His thumb brushed the inside of my wrist, where my pulse was unsteady. Not scared—just raw. Open. Still ringing from the Hollow’s pain.
“And the next time?” I asked. “When they come again?”
Wolfe’s jaw flexed. His body was hard and unyielding beside me. “Then we’ll be ready.”
I wanted to believe that. I did. But my chest tightened anyway. He softened, barely, but enough for me to feel it through the bond.
“Princess,” he murmured, leaning closer, his lips brushing mine, “if you crumble now, I crumble with you. So you’re going to bed. And I’m going to be right beside you.”
I exhaled shakily. “You think I’m going to sleep?”
“Not a chance,” he muttered. “But you’ll lie down. You’ll breathe. You’ll let your wolf settle. And then…we figure out how to tear the whole fucking lot of them down and bury them in the ground.”
That pulled a laugh out of me. A weak one, but real.
We started walking again. The house came into view—the lights low, the windows warm. It looked peaceful. Deceivingly so. When we reached the porch, Wolfe paused with his hand on the door.
“We survived today,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Barely.”
“But we did,” he said, meeting my gaze. “And tomorrow, we survive again.”
I nodded, because anything else would break me open. Wolfe pushed the door open, guiding me inside with a hand on the small of my back.
The Hollow pulsed once beneath my feet as I crossed the threshold. Not warning this time. Acknowledgment. Wolfe noticed. Of course he did.
I looked around the living room. We had furniture again. “Who?”
Wolfe sniffed once, testing the air. “Axel…and Adair, I think.”
“I must thank them,” I said, looking away. “They’re both…okay?”
“They are. We lost a dozen, but no more.”
Twelve. Twelve pack gone for other men’s greed. “I miss my father,” I admitted in the warmth of my home. “I feel lost without him here.”
“I know.” Wolfe wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting lightly on top of my head. “But we need to talk about what Lewis said.” I stiffened. “Not tonight, princess,” he assured me, stepping back. “Get in bed,” he prompted softly. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
I didn’t argue, but I also didn’t do what he told me. I needed to feel clean. In the bathroom, I stepped into the shower, letting the heat of the water wash over me. For thefirst time since the attack, I allowed myself to breathe. I let myself feel the exhaustion, anger, and relief. I leaned into the quiet, steady hum of the bond.
We were still standing. And we’d fight again tomorrow and the next day until we won.
When I came out of the bathroom, he was already in bed with the sheet pulled up only to his waist, exposing his bare chest. He looked way too tempting. I was wearing one of his shirts and a pair of panties and felt overdressed.
“We should sleep,” I said, because it was the sensible thing, the adult thing, the thing the druid had practically ordered.
Wolfe’s eyes ran over me, and he made a low sound.
Not agreement.
Not even close.
When his eyes met mine again, there it was—the look. The one that told me he was barely holding himself together. The one that said the Pack Council hadn’t just attacked the Hollow—they’d attacked me. And that his wolf hadn’t forgiven either offense.
“Wolfe,” I warned softly. I got into bed beside him, my breath hitching as he pulled me close and leaned over me, resting on one arm, his movements quick and controlled. The way he moved always fascinated me—how someone so big could move with such grace.
His hand rose, tracing my jaw as his thumb brushed my cheekbone, like he was making sure I was still whole. “We should sleep,” he murmured. “You’re right.”
