“I’m retiring,” he explains.
Seth just stares at him.
“The circuit,” his father continues, watching Seth closely. “It’s yours now. Legally, officially, completely. You and your pack run it however you see fit.”
Seth opens the envelope with hands that don’t shake, but they’re not steady either. He scans the paperwork once, then again, gaze moving faster the second time, as if he’s trying to find the catch hidden in the fine print. I watch his expression shift in real time: disbelief, shock.
“You’re… giving it to me?” he asks, voice rough.
“I’m acknowledging what’s been true for a long time. You’ve had the vision for this circuit for years. I dug my heels in because for too long I wanted it done my way. That stubbornness cost you time.”
Seth swallows, blinking hard once. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” His father gestures toward the ranch around us. “Make this place the home base. Bring riders here. Change the schedule and build a circuit that doesn’t swallow your whole life. You’ve got a pack now.” His gaze flicks to me, then returns to Seth. “You’ve got a family. It’s time you stop living out of bags and motel rooms just because I did.”
Carter and Kai exchange a look, both of them processing what this means in practical terms, not just emotionally. A life that doesn’t require constant running.
Seth glances up from the papers, and for a second, he appears younger than I’ve ever seen him, caught off guard in a way that strips the armor right off. “Thank you,” he manages. “Dad… I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.” His father’s mouth twitches. “Just don’t screw it up.” Silence. “I’m proud of you, son. I should’ve said that more.”
The quiet that follows isn’t awkward but heavy in a different way. Decades of tension shifting, not fixed, not erased, but finally acknowledged.
His father claps Seth on the shoulder and turns toward the house. “Now. Do I get to see your new place?”
Seth takes my hand, and we all step up onto the porch, where his dad says, “And don’t take too long giving me grandkids. I’m not getting any younger. I’m not too far away in Colorado if you need me.”
“Come on,” he says, offering me a loving smile. “Let’s go inside. We’ve got it ready.”
I let them guide me through the front door, still dazed and emotional. Is this real life?
The inside of the house is stunning, just as I remember it from when I came to take photographs for the sale. High ceilings, exposed beams, huge windows that let in floods of natural light. But it’s the living room that gets me every time.
Only it’s already set up, as if we aren’t the first people to ever set foot in here.
There’s a bar cart stocked and ready, bottles lined up, glasses polished, a hand-lettered sign that squeezes my chest. Platters of food cover every surface, the kind of spread you throw when you want people to stay awhile. Decorations in soft colors that somehow perfectly embody me, not generic party-store nonsense, but chosen specifically for this party.
And the walls are covered in framed photos of me with my three Alphas, like we’ve been living our lives here for months instead of minutes. Me pressed between them in front of the pyramids, perched on someone’s knee with a Scottish castle looming behind us, Kai throwing a grin at the camera with the Eiffel Tower over his shoulder, Carter looking annoyingly perfect beside some ancient ruin, Seth riding a horse, as he’s been superimposed on all the photos.
Then I finally notice the people.
“SURPRISE!”
I jolt, then laugh, because it’s too much and perfect and I don’t know what else to do with the swell in my chest. I clutchat all three of my Alphas, overwhelmed and grateful and so impossibly happy that my eyes sting again.
I stare around properly, and my brain scrambles to catch up. Sophia is there with her three cowboys, all of them grinning as if they’ve been in on this for weeks. Hazel is near the drinks, pink sunglasses pushed up in her hair, looking smug enough to be arrested for it. I spot the women from the book club, beaming and waving, and a handful of familiar faces from the town shops, plus neighbors I’ve lived beside for years, people who have watched me build a life here with scraped knees and stubborn pride.
There are so many of them who matter.
I turn back to Seth, still half convinced I’m going to blink and wake up.
He leans in close, one hand firm at my waist. “Everyone you love is here,” he says, quiet but sure. “Everyone you care about. We wanted them with us for this.” His gaze holds mine, steadying me. “To celebrate our home, and the start of what comes next.”
My throat tightens. I nod, because words won’t work, and Kai kisses my temple as Carter presses a hand to my back, keeping me upright while my heart tries to spill out of my chest in every direction at once.
I laugh, clinging to all three of them, overwhelmed and grateful and so incredibly, impossibly happy.
The party flows around us. People hugging me, congratulating us, marveling at the house and the property and the future stretching out before us. I float through it in a daze, accepting drinks and food and well wishes, constantly finding my way back to my Alphas.
