Soon, I would belong to them completely. Soon, they would belong to me. Soon, we would be bonded — tied together in a way that nothing could break.
But first, we had to survive.
First, we had to fight.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
ASTER
The stable was quiet in the golden light of late afternoon, dust motes floating through the sunbeams that streamed through the high windows like tiny stars caught in amber. I'd come looking for Nolan after the tension of the day — Easton's visit, the fear that still lingered in my chest like a bruise, the weight of decisions made and promises spoken. I needed the calm of his presence, the steadiness that always seemed to radiate from him like warmth from a hearth.
I found him exactly where I'd expected — in Hope's stall, running a soft brush over the young mare's gleaming coat. She wasn't a filly anymore, I realized with a start. She'd grown tall and strong over the months I'd been here, her legs sturdy, her eyes bright and intelligent. Just like me, she'd transformed from something fragile into something whole.
"Hey." My voice came out soft, not wanting to startle either of them, my hands finding the top of the stall door as I leaned against it, drinking in the sight of him — his sandy hair falling across his forehead, his sleeves rolled up to reveal strongforearms, his hazel eyes focused with that gentle intensity he brought to everything.
Nolan turned, his expression shifting from concentration to warmth the moment they found me, his pine scent wrapping around me like a familiar embrace, his lips curving into that gentle smile that always made my heart flutter. "Hey yourself. I was hoping you'd find me."
"You were?" I tilted my head, studying him in the soft light, noting the tension still lingering in his shoulders from the confrontation with Easton, the worry lines around his eyes that hadn't quite faded, the way his hands stilled on Hope's coat like he'd been waiting for something.
"Always." He set down the brush and crossed to me, his movements unhurried, deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek, calloused and warm. "How are you doing? After everything today?"
"I'm okay." I leaned into his touch, letting my eyes close for a moment, breathing in his scent — pine and herbs and something uniquely Nolan, clean and comforting, like forest after rain. "Better now."
He made a soft sound, somewhere between a hum and a purr, and I felt it vibrate through his chest as he stepped closer, his hands finding my waist, pulling me gently against him until I could feel his heartbeat against my own.
"Come inside." His voice was low, intimate, his breath warm against my temple as he pressed a kiss there, his lips soft and lingering. "There's something I want to show you."
He led me into the stable proper, his hand warm in mine, past the other stalls where horses watched us with curious eyes, to a corner I'd never really noticed before. Someone — Nolan, I realized — had arranged a nest of sorts. Thick blankets layered over clean hay, soft pillows scattered across them in shades ofcream and sage, a lantern waiting to be lit when the sun finished setting. It was tucked away from the main aisle, private and warm, surrounded by the sweet smell of hay and horse and leather. A bottle of water and some folded towels sat nearby — ever the healer, thinking of aftercare before anything had begun.
"When did you do this?" I breathed, turning to look at him with wonder in my eyes, my heart swelling at the thoughtfulness of it, at the care he put into everything.
"Over the past few weeks." His cheeks flushed slightly, that endearing pink that always made me want to kiss him, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, his hazel eyes dropping like he was embarrassed by the tenderness of his own gesture. "I kept thinking about this place. About what it means. Where it all started."
I looked around the stable with new eyes, remembering. Not my first night on the ranch — that had been the bunkhouse, the cook's stew, Hank's gruff kindness. But this stable... this was where everything changed. Where I'd first seen Nolan, crouched beside a pregnant mare named Bella, his hands gentle on her neck, his voice a low murmur of comfort. Where his scent had washed over me — pine and honey — and something in my brain had gone quiet for the first time in years. Where he'd looked at me with those patient eyes and given me space to breathe instead of demanding anything.
"This is where I first saw you." The words came out thick with emotion, my eyes burning as I turned back to face him, my hand reaching out to press against his chest, feeling his heart beat steady and strong beneath my palm. "With Bella. You were so gentle with her. And then you looked at me, and you didn't... you didn't push. You just gave me room."
"I remember." His voice was rough, his hand coming up to cover mine, pressing it tighter against his heart, his hazel eyes shimmering with emotion in the fading light. "You werestanding in the shadows, ready to bolt. This tiny, fierce, half-starved Omega with pale green eyes, watching me like I might attack at any moment." A soft laugh escaped him, fond and wondering. "And then you growled at me. Actually growled. Like you could take me in a fight."
A wet laugh escaped me, tears spilling down my cheeks, my free hand coming up to swipe at them uselessly. "I probably couldn't have."
"Probably not." His smile was tender, his free hand coming up to cup my face, his thumb brushing away the tears with infinite gentleness, his touch reverent. "But I loved you for trying. For being so fierce even when you were terrified. I think I loved you from that first moment, even if I didn't know it yet."
"Nolan..." His name came out as a whisper, my voice breaking on the single syllable, my heart so full it ached against my ribs.
"This is where Hope was born." He continued, his voice soft with memory, his thumb still tracing gentle patterns on my cheek. "Where you stayed up all night with Bella, even though no one asked you to. Where you named a filly after something you'd spent years trying not to feel." His eyes found mine, bright with unshed tears. "Where I watched you start to believe that maybe — just maybe — you deserved good things."
"I've wanted this for so long." He stepped closer, both hands cradling my face now, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath mingling with mine in the small space between us, his scent wrapping around me like a blanket. "Wanted you. Not just physically — though God knows I've wanted that too." A small, self-deprecating laugh escaped him, his cheeks flushing darker, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "But I wanted all of you. Your fierceness and your fear. Your strength and your softness. Every part of you that you've let me see, and all the parts you're still learning to show."
"I want you too." I tilted my face up, my lips brushing against his as I spoke, my hands fisting in the soft fabric of his shirt, feeling his heart race beneath my knuckles. "I want all of you, Nolan. Tonight. Right here, where it all began."
He kissed me then, soft and searching, his lips gentle against mine like he was savoring every moment, committing every sensation to memory. His hands slid from my face to my shoulders, down my arms, raising goosebumps in their wake, finding my hands and intertwining our fingers. I could feel him trembling — this steady, calm Alpha, trembling because of me.
"Are you sure?" He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his hazel gaze searching mine for any hesitation, any doubt, his voice rough with want but still careful, still checking. "We don't have to?—"
"I'm sure." I squeezed his hands, then released them to slide my arms around his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space between us, until I could feel every line of his body against mine. "I've never been more sure of anything."
He made a sound low in his throat — relief and desire and love all tangled together — and then he was kissing me again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against mine as his hands found my waist, my hips, the hem of my shirt. He tasted like mint tea and something sweeter, something that was just him, and I drank him in like I'd been dying of thirst.
