I kissed him again, softer this time, slower, pouring everything I couldn't say into the press of my lips against his. His purr intensified until I could feel it in my bones, until the whole truck seemed to vibrate with his happiness.
When I finally pulled back, his eyes were wet, his smile trembling at the edges, his expression so full of love it made my chest ache.
"I love you." He said it again, like he couldn't help himself, like the words were being pulled out of him, his voice rough and raw. "I love you, Aster. So much it scares me."
"It scares me too." I admitted, my thumb tracing his lower lip, feeling it tremble beneath my touch. "But the good kind of scared. The kind that means something matters."
"You matter." His voice was fierce, certain, his amber eyes blazing. "You matter so much."
I settled against his chest, my head tucked under his chin, listening to his heartbeat and his purr blend into one steady rhythm. The sunset painted everything gold, and for a moment, the world was perfect. We drove the rest of the way home in comfortable silence, my hand on his thigh, his purr a constant presence beneath the rumble of the engine. The bag of books sat between us, the keychain warm in my pocket, the taste of honey lavender still lingering on my tongue.
When we pulled up to the ranch, the main house was lit up warm and welcoming, shadows moving behind the windows. Home, I thought, and the word didn't feel foreign anymore. Kol turned off the engine but didn't move to get out, his hands still on the steering wheel, his amber eyes distant, his expression soft.
"Thank you." His voice came out rough, quiet, thick with emotion. "For today. For letting me show you things. For not thinking I was too much." I leaned over and kissed his cheek, lingering, breathing in his scent — honey and orange blossoms, warm and happy and utterly content.
"You're never too much." I murmured against his skin, feeling him shiver at my words. "You're exactly right." His purr intensified, rumbling through the truck, through me, through everything, and when he turned to meet my eyes, his smile was the brightest thing I'd ever seen.
"Yours." The word came out soft, reverent, a promise and a prayer, his amber eyes shining with everything he felt. "I'm yours, Aster. Completely, totally, forever yours." Sitting there in his truck, surrounded by his scent, my hand on his thigh and his heart in his eyes, I believed him.
Completely.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ASTER
A week after Kol's date, I found myself walking into Thornwood with a lightness in my step that still surprised me. The town had become familiar in a way I hadn't expected — the brick storefronts, the little diner where Rosie always had coffee waiting, the hardware store where the old Beta behind the counter had finally stopped eyeing me with suspicion. I knew the streets now, knew the shortcuts, knew which cracks in the sidewalk to avoid.
It felt like belonging. Like home.
Marley's shop was my destination, the same as it had been every week since she'd started teaching me to sew. The bell over the door chimed as I pushed inside, and the familiar smell of fabric and thread wrapped around me like a hug.
"You're late." Marley's voice came from somewhere behind a rack of half-finished dresses, gruff but not unkind, her sharp brown eyes appearing a moment later as she peered around the fabric, her gray-streaked hair escaping from its practical bun. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."
"Never." I smiled, setting down my bag and moving toward the back room where she kept her sewing machines, warmth spreading through my chest at her familiar gruffness. "I got distracted helping Nolan with one of the horses. She threw a shoe and was not happy about having it replaced."
"Mmm." Marley emerged fully, wiping her hands on the apron she always wore, her weathered face creasing as she studied me, her nostrils flaring slightly as she took in my scent. "You smell happy. Settled." She paused, a wry smile tugging at her thin lips, something knowing crossing her sharp features. "You smell like four different Alphas, too. Things progressing well with those boys of yours?"
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, but I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face, my hands fidgeting with the strap of my bag. "Yeah. Things are... things are good, Marley. Really good."
"Good." She nodded once, decisive, her lips twitching into something that might have been a smile on anyone else, approval warming her sharp brown eyes. "You deserve good. Now come on — I've got some new fabric I want to show you, and that quilt you're working on isn't going to finish itself."
We spent the next two hours in comfortable companionship, Marley guiding my hands as I worked on the quilt I'd started weeks ago — a patchwork of fabrics in blues and greens and soft browns, colors that reminded me of each of my Alphas. She corrected my stitching with sharp words and gentle touches, praised my progress in her gruff, roundabout way, and shared stories about her own bonding with Trent that made me laugh until my sides ached.
"You're getting better." Marley stepped back to examine my work, her arms crossed over her chest, her head tilted critically, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she ran herfingers along the seams. "Still a bit uneven on the corners, but better. You might actually be a passable seamstress someday."
"High praise coming from you." I grinned, stretching my back and rolling out the stiffness in my shoulders, warmth blooming in my chest at her grudging approval.
"Don't let it go to your head." But there was warmth underneath her gruffness, a fondness she tried to hide and failed, her brown eyes softening for just a moment before she turned away. "Same time next week?"
"Same time next week." I packed up my things, tucking the quilt carefully into my bag, already looking forward to showing the others my progress. "Thanks, Marley. For everything."
"Get out of here." She waved a hand dismissively, but I caught the softness in her eyes before she turned away, her voice going gruff to hide the affection underneath. "Go home to those Alphas of yours. Tell them I said to feed you more — you're still too skinny."
I laughed as I pushed through the door, the bell chiming behind me, the afternoon sun warm on my face. The street was quiet — it usually was this time of day, most people either at work or taking advantage of the afternoon lull to rest. I turned toward the road that led back to Longhorn, my mind already drifting to what might be waiting for me there.
That's when I felt it. A prickle at the back of my neck. A wrongness that made my Omega instincts snap to attention, my whole body going tense before my conscious mind caught up.
Someone was watching me.
