He caressed her cheek. “It’s not just a record of obedience. It’s a record of becoming.”
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, and he held her tight.
Silas and Boone stayed quiet while she pulled herself back together, but their presence grounded her just the same.
When she finally pulled away, her voice was thick but sure. “I love it. I love you. Thank you, Sir.”
Kenny smiled. “Most of the time, you really are my good girl.”
She let out a watery laugh. “Almost always, Sir.”
“Close enough,” he said, and kissed her forehead. “Now, come on. Two more gifts.”
He helped her stand, and they led her to the back door. When she opened it and stepped out onto the porch, her breath caught again, and not from the cold.
The new armoire stood just outside the door, easily four times the size of her current one, but narrow enough to fit in the hall. The dark wood gleamed under the porch light, the hardware subtle and sleek.
“You wanted more space,” Boone said, rubbing the back of his neck like he hadn’t just given her the best gift of all. “Drawers on the bottom and sides. Hanging rods in layers. The saleslady said over thirty outfits, easy.”
“Plenty to choose from,” Silas added. “So you can express your style for the day.”
“Within the rules,” Kenny said.
Tears welled again, but this time she didn’t try to stop them. “It’s perfect, Sirs.”
“Let’s get it inside, so the moisture in the air doesn’t mess with it,” Kenny said.
And her three strong wolves carried it into the house and up the stairs like it was doll furniture.
“One last thing. Back to the tree.” Kenny said.
Once she was seated again, Kenny handed her a package wrapped in bright red paper with white polka dots. “This one’s for the playroom.”
That got all three men grinning.
She narrowed her eyes. “Should I be scared?”
“Not scared,” Kenny said. “Just… prepared.”
She opened it and burst out laughing.
A heavy-duty water bottle, the kind with a built-in straw, and across the front in big block letters:
I FEEL VIOLATED. And then beneath it, in elegant, flowing script:Do it again.
Silas grinned. “Well?”
She giggled. “I totally deserve this, Sirs. It’s perfectly horrible, so of course it belongs in the playroom.”
She held the bottle up in both hands like it was sacred. “Best. Christmas. Ever.”
Kenny turned to the window, and the rest followed his gaze.
The snow was thicker now. Real flakes. She could barely see across the yard.
Boone opened the door, and Willow stepped out first in her white fuzzy slippers, off the porch and onto the sidewalk, laughing as the flakes dusted her outstretched arms. The men followed, barefoot and bare-chested, jeans catching snow.
She spun in a slow circle and then looked at them. “Can we shift, Sirs?”
