And Boone found her archery gear.
She hadn’t meant to keep it secret, it just hadn’t come up.
He’d opened the spare closet to find four bows, nearly a dozen sets of arrows, and all her carefully organized accessories — gloves, string wax, arm guards, a backup stabilizer, and her digital and old-school rangefinders. He stared at it like he’d just discovered she spoke fluent Klingon.
“The fuck is all this?”
“Archery,” she said, suddenly shy. “I used to compete. I enjoy it. It’s… I don’t know. Relaxing.”
He didn’t tease, just said, “We’ll set up targets.”
For so long, she’d measured safety by self-reliance, and by always having an escape plan, an exit strategy. Now, locking her empty apartment for the last time, a final goodbye, she didn’t feel trapped.
Handing her key over in the management office was freeing, and then she handed her SUV key to Kenny, who’d be driving it home.
She followed in her car and was overwhelmed when she drove down the long driveway and parked beside her SUV with the late-afternoon sun low on the horizon.
She’d had no idea how much it would mean to have both of her cars parked outside Kenny’s house.
Now her house.
She’d never had both cars here at the same time before. Never had both cars at James’s house simultaneously, either.
She stepped out and just stood there, staring at the two cars. Her life was here now, echoed in front of her in metaland rubber. No escape routes. No more keeping her foot in two worlds.
She’d burned the last bridge behind her and was walking into the future without a map, but she wasn’t lost. For the first time in her life, she didn’t need a plan full of bullet lists and contingencies — just the path in front of her and the men who’d taught her what commitment and purpose truly mean.
This was home, and it was suddenly real. For the first time in her adult life, she’d brought her whole self into a relationship. No hedging. No contingencies.
She took a breath.
And now it was time for the big event.
While the three had worked together, they’d talked about the blood bond. They’d been looking for something from her to show them she was ready, and apparently, giving up her apartment qualified.
They had no idea how big this was.
Or maybe they did. Silas was renting his house to a pack member, and Boone had moved from the apartment he’d shared with two pack members. They’d jumped right in.
So, for better or for worse, they were doing this, an ancient rite of magic and permanence, where every last wall came down. She’d moved in, she’d burned her bridges, and now she was about to help them etch that truth into her body and soul. No escape clauses. No off-ramps.
The realization settled into her chest like a second heartbeat. Every time they’d backed off, every time they’d given her space, this is what they’d been waiting for — a signal that she was ready to stop straddling two lives and finally step into one.
“Everyone into the shower,” Kenny said, and he took off toward the house at a run, calling back, “Last one to the playroom has to clean the gutters!”
Silas muttered, “Fuck that,” and took off, with Boone a few steps behind to start, but managed to make it into the door first.
Willow dashed inside and up the steps behind them. She was in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, and she stripped out of them at her armoire, dumping everything into the dirty clothes bin. She stripped her shoes off, tossed her socks in the bin, closed the armoire, ran into her room, and put her shoes away.
Anything out of place in her room displeased Kenny, and it’s never good to displease Kenny.
Hawks don’t hate heights the way wolves do, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend a day on a ladder pulling rotting leaves out of the gutters. And why didn’t the owner of a construction company have gutter guards?
When she raced out of the bathroom mostly dry after a fast but thorough shower, Kenny and Boone were in the playroom, but not Silas. She sprinted to the red medallion and was standing on it when Silas came in and stepped into the playroom.
“That doesn’t count!” A beat. “Sirs! That doesn’t count!”
Silas smirked, but Kenny said, “She’s right. Ten seconds and you’d have beat her.”
