I glance at Finn, then at the others slowly forming a semi-circle around us, and the realization clicks.
“You think you’re already part of the pack,” I say, my voice a little breathless.
Finn shrugs, completely unbothered. “You accepted me last night. I knew you would. Things take time, but I’m patient. And I didn’t know there was a formal application process.”
Carson snorts. “He’s got a point. Dude skipped the paperwork and just showed up to orientation as though he belonged.”
“I do belong,” Finn says simply, gaze flicking to each of them. “And you all know it.”
Hunter arches a brow but doesn’t challenge him. Graham doesn’t blink. Even Landon just nods, tight but respectful.
“I was gonna talk to you,” I say to Finn, a little dazed. “I hadn’t?—”
“You didn’t have to,” he cuts in, gentler now. “I knew.”
Carson claps his hands once. “Great. So that’s two new members. Who’s keeping track of the bites? Do we need a spreadsheet?”
Graham mutters, “You are not making a pack spreadsheet.”
“Oh, come on,” Carson grins, bumping my shoulder. “Little columns for marked, kissed, slept next to?—”
“I will throw your phone in the Hudson when we get home,” I say, narrowing my eyes at Carson.
He just smirks.
But I’m smiling too, even as my heart kicks hard against my ribs. I glance around—at them, at him, at us—and something inside me glows.
It’s real.
It’s mine.
“Let’s go,” I say softly.
And they follow.
Because I don’t need to say the rest.
They’re mine.
And I’m finally theirs.
When we make it back to the hotel, no one says anything—we just drift toward my room like it’s the most natural thing in the world. No hesitation. No question.
I swipe the key card and push open the door, but Carson’s the one who steps in first, checking the space with practiced ease. Hunter moves without hesitation, tugging the curtains shut and adjusting the thermostat.
Landon hovers in the doorway until I reach back and lace my fingers through his, tugging him inside. Finn follows. Hiscamera’s still around his neck, but he doesn’t lift it. He just watches me.
Graham’s the last to enter, closing the door behind us and sliding the security latch with a soft click.
My feet ache. I finally glance down and let out a soft, tired laugh. “Why am I still in heels?”
“Good question,” Carson says, already dropping to one knee in front of me like I’m some glittery Cinderella at the end of a very long ball. “Permission to remove the weapons from your feet?”
I nod, and he slips one off with exaggerated care, wincing dramatically. “Jesus, these could kill a man.”
The second heel joins the first, and I breathe out, swaying a little now that I’m flat-footed.
Landon steadies me, his hand curling around my waist, warm and gentle. “Bed.”
