He didn’t speak for a long time. Just held me, letting the silence stretch, letting the sweat dry on our skin and the mess soak into the sheets. His hand drifted lower, fingers tracing the curve of my ass, thumb dipping into the slick between my cheeks. He pressed a kiss to my temple, then another to my jaw, his mouth gentle now, all the hunger banked down into something softer.
“You know what that does to me?” he whispered, voice rough, lips ghosting over my skin. “Seeing you like that. Seeing what we do to each other. Makes me want to keep you like this forever—ruined and full, so no one else can even look at you without knowing you’re mine.”
I shivered, loving the possessive edge in his voice, the way he never tried to hide how much he cared. I reached up, brushing the sweat-damp hair from his forehead, tracing the strong line of his jaw, the softness in his eyes.
“Guess you’re stuck with me,” I teased, voice low and tired. “Once you breed me like that, you can’t just let me go.”
He laughed, soft and unguarded, then pulled me tighter. “Not planning to. Not ever. You belong right here.”
He tucked me under his arm, rolling us so I was half on top, my head pillowed against his chest, heart finally slowing to match his. I felt the mess between my legs, his come still leaking out, still sticky and wet against my skin, but I didn’t care. I wanted to stay like this—claimed, owned, safe, and so deeply satisfied I could barely keep my eyes open.
Evan stroked my back, lazy and content, fingers tracing patterns that promised more—always more, always us. Outside, Hollow Pines was silent, the world shrinking down to just this room, just this bed, just the two of us tangled together in sweat and sex and something that felt a lot like forever.
And as I drifted, I let myself believe it. Let myself want it. Let myself be his—ruined and adored, exactly where I was meant to be.
PART III
WANING MOON
24
SHADOWS AT THE GATE
EVAN
Nate perched on the workbench beside me, camera dangling from his neck, fingers dancing over the lens cap in that restless way he had when his brain was chewing on things too big for words.
“I used to think the weirdest thing about this town was how everyone knew everyone else's business but pretended they didn't,” Nate said.
I snorted, tossing the rag onto the tool cart with more force than necessary. “Oh, you sweet summer child. You haven't even scratched the surface of Hollow Pines weird.”
“Yeah, well, finding out your boyfriend turns into a wolf tends to recalibrate your scale of strange pretty fucking quickly.”
The word boyfriend still made something flutter behind my ribs, dangerous and beautiful and terrifying in ways that had nothing to do with claws or fangs. Three weeks since he'd witnessed my pack's run, since he'd seen me shift and accepted it with the kind of matter-of-fact courage that belonged in fairytales, and I was still adjusting to the reality of someone who knew what I was and stayed anyway.
“Any regrets?” I asked, because some part of me would always be waiting for the moment he realized what loving a monster really meant.
Nate's eyes found mine, steady and sure and holding just enough heat to make my wolf preen under my skin. “Only that it took me so long to come home.”
The honesty in his voice made my chest tight with something that felt dangerously close to hope. Before I could overthink it, before the rational part of my brain could remind me of all the reasons this was complicated, I reached for him.
He met me halfway, lips warm and soft against mine in a kiss that tasted like coffee and dreams. It was different from the desperate collision under the moon—gentler, sweeter, carrying the weight of choice rather than revelation. This was Nate choosing me in the quiet moments, in the ordinary spaces where love lived between the dramatic declarations.
When we broke apart, his forehead rested against mine, breath warm against my skin. “I meant what I said,” he whispered. “About coming home. About this being where I want to be.”
My wolf practically purred with satisfaction, pack bonds humming with contentment that felt like puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. This was what I'd been missing without knowing it—this sense of rightness, of being exactly where I belonged.
Before I could find words for the way his answer settled warm in my chest, my phone buzzed against my hip. The sound cut through our comfortable quiet like a knife through silk, and every instinct I'd inherited from generations of Alphas started screaming warnings.
Dad's name lit up the screen, and my stomach dropped before I even read the message.
Dad
Wards breached. Meet at clearing. Bring no one.
The wards were the only thing keeping Hollow Pines safe from predators that hunted in shadows, invisible barriers that marked our territory as defended, claimed, protected by forces older than the trees.
If they were breached, if something had broken through defenses that had held for generations, then we were dealing with threats that played by rules I didn't understand.
