Jonah was first. “What about Daniel? He's still pack?”
“Always,” Evan said without hesitation. “He stepped down from Alpha, not from family. His experience, his knowledge—we need that. I'm just the one making the final calls now.”
Sienna spoke next. “And Gideon?”
The name fell into silence like a stone into still water. Two weeks since the revelation, and the pack was still processing thefact that the witch who'd protected them for decades was son to the monster trying to destroy them.
“Gideon stays,” Evan said, and his voice went hard. “He stays because we need every advantage we can get, and his magic is one of them. Anyone who has a problem with that can bring it to me directly.”
No one spoke. The answer wasn't what everyone wanted, but it was honest. Real. The kind of leadership that acknowledged complicated truths instead of pretending everything was simple.
“Good,” Evan said. “Then let's get back to work. We've got wards to reinforce and patrol schedules to maintain. Dismissed.”
The pack dispersed slowly, some moving to congratulate Evan, others drifting toward me with expressions that said they didn't know what to feel. I let them come, accepted their confusion and concern, and felt the strange lightness that came from no longer being the one who had to have all the answers.
Michael appeared at my side, and when his hand found mine the touch was grounding. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I squeezed his fingers, felt calluses from construction work and the faint hum of moon magic under his skin. “Better than I've been in years.”
“That was brave. Stepping down.”
“Or reckless. Time will tell.” I looked at him, at the man who'd survived corrupted wolves and ritual circles and Silas's cosmic horror through nothing but stubborn determination. “But I meant what I said. I'm tired of carrying everything alone.”
“Good.” His smile was small but genuine. “Because I've got something that's going to make you even more tired.”
Wolves sprawledin the common areas, some playing cards, others just existing in each other's space with the kind of casual intimacy that came from surviving horror together.
I stood at the front of the room with Michael beside me, and when I cleared my throat the pack's attention focused immediately. Old habits died hard—even if Evan was Alpha now, I was still the one who'd led them for two decades.
“One more thing,” I said. “Michael and I—we're mates.”
Silence. Then Jonah grinned. “Yeah, we know. Have known for weeks. You're not subtle, Alpha.”
“Former Alpha,” I corrected. “And I'm making it official. Announcing it to pack. Because—” I looked at Michael, at the way moonlight seemed to cling to him even indoors, at eyes that had seen too much and still chose to stay. “Because I almost lost him, and I'm done pretending I'm not terrified of that. Done waiting for the right time or perfect moment. This is the moment. He's mine, I'm his, and the pack needs to know it.”
Michael's hand found mine, squeezed tight. “What he said. Minus the possessive Alpha posturing.”
“It's not posturing if it's true.”
“It's still posturing.”
The pack laughed, tension breaking, and I felt acceptance ripple through pack bonds that still connected me even if I wasn't Alpha anymore. Not everyone was thrilled—I could see skepticism in some expressions, concern in others. But no one challenged it. No one questioned whether a human could truly be mate to a wolf.
Because Michael wasn't just human anymore. The moon had marked him, had woken magic that ran in his blood, and the pack felt it even if they didn't understand it.
“There's more,” I said, and pulled the small box from my pocket.
Michael's eyes went wide. “Daniel?—”
“Shut up and let me do this.” I opened the box, showed him the simple silver band inside. Nothing fancy. Just solid metal that would last and mean something. “Michael Harrington. You're stubborn, reckless, and you have a habit of getting yourself nearly killed. You also make me want to be better than I am. Make me remember what it feels like to hope for things beyond just survival. And I refuse to wait another day pretending I don't want forever with you.”
“That's the worst proposal I've ever heard,” he said, but his voice was rough and his eyes were bright.
“It's honest.”
“It's terrible.”
“Michael.” I held his gaze, let him see everything I felt. “Marry me. Please.”
