I reached for the next package, handing it to Sawyer. He unwrapped it with less ceremony than Reid, tearing the paper aside with impatient fingers, his pale eyes sharp with curiosity. Inside lay another pouch, this one with a pattern of mountains embroidered in grays and deep purples, peaks rising across the fabric like the horizon.
"Mountains." I watched his face, trying to read his expression beneath the scars and the stoic mask he wore, suddenly worried I'd gotten it wrong. "For strength. For someone who's solid and steady, who weathers every storm." I bit my lip. "For someone who came from hard places but didn't let them break him."
He went very still, his scarred fingers tracing the embroidered peaks, something flickering behind his pale eyes that looked almost like pain. Then he pulled me into a fierce kiss, his hand tangling in my hair, his lips hungry and grateful against mine, his earth and leather scent flooding my senses. When he pulled back, his pale eyes were burning with an intensity that stole my breath, his jaw tight, his chest heaving.
"Mountains." His voice was gravel and smoke, rough with emotion he rarely let himself show. "Yeah. That's... yeah." He pressed his forehead to mine, breathing hard. "Thank you."
Nolan's package was next — another pouch, this one embroidered with delicate pine trees in shades of green, their branches reaching toward an unseen sky.
"Pine trees." I pointed to the careful stitching, my voice picking up speed with nervousness, remembering all the times I'd had to redo this one until the branches looked right. "For healing. For someone who's always taking care of everyone else, who makes everything feel safe and calm." I met his hazel eyes. "For someone whose scent smells like coming home."
Nolan took the pouch with trembling hands, his fingers tracing the pine trees with such gentleness, like he was afraid they might disappear if he touched them too hard. His hazel eyes were bright with unshed tears that caught the afternoon light.
"You made this." His voice was soft, wondering, almost reverent. "You noticed... you paid attention to..." He couldn't finish, just leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine, his breath warm on my face, his pine scent wrapping around me like a blanket. "Do you have any idea how much this means? How much you mean?"
The last small package went to Kol, who had been practically vibrating with anticipation, his golden eyes fixed on the remaining bundle like a child on Christmas morning, his whole body straining toward it. He tore into the paper with abandon, shredding it without care, revealing a pouch embroidered with bright sunflowers in shades of gold and yellow and warm amber, their petals seeming to glow even in the afternoon light.
"Sunflowers." My voice was barely a whisper now, emotion clogging my throat. "For sunshine. For someone who makes even the darkest days brighter, who loves so openly and so completely that it's impossible not to feel it." I reached out to touch his cheek. "For someone who taught me how to laugh again."
Kol made a broken sound and launched himself at me, wrapping me in a hug so tight I could barely breathe, the pouch clutched in his fist, his tears hot against my neck, his whole body shaking with sobs.
"I love you." He was saying it over and over, the words tumbling out between broken breaths, his arms crushing me against his chest, his sunshine scent blazing with joy and love and something desperate. "I love you, I love you, I love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to us, wildflower. The best thing."
I held him while he cried, while they all pressed close around me, while the afternoon sun painted everything gold.
"There's one more." I pulled back from Kol's embrace, reaching for the larger bundle I'd set aside — the quilt I'd finally finished just days before Easton took me, the one Marley had helped me bind and back. I unfolded it across my lap, revealing the patchwork design, and heard all four of them inhale sharply.
The quilt was made of soft fabrics in blues and greens and browns, but worked into the pattern were four distinct squares — one with antlers, one with mountains, one with pine trees, one with sunflowers. The same designs from their pouches, brought together into something whole.
"This is for all of us." I smoothed my hand across the squares, my voice thick with emotion. "For the nest. So when we're together, we're wrapped in something that has all of you in it. All of us." I traced the antlers, then the mountains, the pines, the sunflowers. "Pack. Family. Home."
The silence was heavy with emotion, all four of them staring at the quilt like it was the most precious thing they'd ever seen.
"There's one more thing." I reached into the pocket of my sundress, pulling out a small bundle of fabric — emerald green silk, the same bolt I'd been picking up from Marley's the day Easton took me. The same fabric that had been trampled in the dirt, stained with my blood, left behind when he dragged me into his truck.
"Marley saved what she could." I unfolded the fabric to reveal four ribbon-length strips, each one carefully hemmed, each one just long enough to wrap around a wrist, the silk smooth and cool between my fingers. "She said most of it was ruined, but there was enough left for these."
I tied the first ribbon around Reid's wrist, watching the emerald green stand out against his tan skin, watching his throat work as he swallowed hard, his dark eyes fixed on my hands.
"To remember." My voice was steady now, certain, filled with a strength I hadn't known I possessed. "To remember that he tried to take everything from me, and he failed. That I chose to come back. That I chose you."
I tied ribbons around Sawyer's wrist, then Nolan's, then Kol's. Four strips of green silk, the color of hope, the color of new growth, the color of the future we were about to claim together.
"We didn't get you anything." Kol's voice was thick with tears, his fingers tracing the ribbon on his wrist, his golden eyes swimming with guilt. "We should have thought of gifts, we should have?—"
"You're giving me everything." I cupped his face in my hands, making him meet my eyes, feeling the warmth of his skin against my palms. "In a few hours, I'll have four marks. Four claims. Four promises that I'll never be alone again." I looked around at all of them — my pack, my family, my future. "That's the only gift I need."
The silence that followed was charged with anticipation, with want, with the knowledge of what came next.
"We should start while there's still daylight." Reid's voice was rough, his hand finding mine, his thumb stroking over my knuckles in slow circles, his dark eyes burning with barely contained need.
"How does it work?" I'd asked before, but suddenly the reality of it was pressing in on me, making my heart race with nervousness and excitement intertwined, my pulse pounding in my throat. "The order, the..."
"One at a time." Nolan's voice was calm, steady, the healer in him taking over, his hazel eyes soft with reassurance. "A bite is intense — physically, emotionally, hormonally. Doing all four at once would overwhelm your system." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle and reassuring, his pine scentsteady and grounding. "So we take turns. Give you time to adjust between each one. Make sure you're okay."
"Who goes first?" The question came out breathless, my eyes darting between them, my heart hammering against my ribs.
A look passed between the four Alphas — some silent conversation I wasn't privy to, some decision being made without words.
