"Well?" Remy sat up straight, practically vibrating with impatience, his amber eyes wide in the darkness. "What did she say? Allez, cher, don't leave us hanging—I'm dying over here!"
"They want to settle." My voice came out barely above a whisper, the words feeling surreal on my tongue, like a foreign language I'd only just learned to speak. "Tomorrow morning. Courthouse. Both sides, face to face, with lawyers."
Silence fell over the room like a held breath.
Then Harper's arms tightened around me, crushing me against his chest hard enough that I could feel his heart pounding against my cheek. Silas's hand found mine in the darkness, his fingers lacing through my own with a gentleness that made my eyes sting. Remy let out a whoop that probably scared every night bird within a mile radius, throwing his arms around all of us and squeezing until I couldn't tell where I ended and they began.
"Tomorrow." Harper's voice was rough with something that might have been hope—fragile and fierce all at once, like a flame cupped in careful hands against the wind. "Tomorrow we end this. For good."
I nodded against his chest, feeling the bonds humming in my veins like three separate heartbeats all pounding in perfect time with mine.
Tomorrow.
One way or another, it would all be over.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Artemis
I'd never been inside the courthouse before. It was an old building, all weathered brick and tall windows that let in the morning light in dusty golden shafts. The kind of building that had seen generations of disputes settled within its walls. It smelled like old paper and floor polish and something that might have been justice, if justice had a scent.
Or maybe that was just my nerves talking.
"You're going to wear a hole in those floorboards, cher." Remy's voice was warm with amusement as he caught my hand, stopping my pacing mid-step. His amber eyes sparkled in the morning light streaming through the windows, though I could see the tension lurking beneath the easy smile. "And those are some nice floorboards. Historic, probably. The parish would be very upset."
"I can't help it." I squeezed his fingers, drawing strength from the contact, my free hand pressing against my churning stomach. "What if something goes wrong? What if they change their minds? What if?—"
"Nothing's going to go wrong." Harper's hand settled on my lower back, warm and steady, grounding me the way he always did. He'd worn his nicest button-down shirt for the occasion, dark blue that made his eyes look almost black, and he'd actually combed his hair. It was strangely endearing. "We've got them cornered, sweetheart. They know it. We know it. This is just the formality."
Silas stood by the window, watching the parking lot with those pale, predator eyes of his. He hadn't said much this morning but his presence was a comfort all its own. He'd dressed in black, as always, the scars on his face stark in the morning light, and something about the set of his shoulders told me he was coiled tight as a spring beneath that calm exterior.
The door to the conference room swung open, and Delphine LeBlanc strode in like she owned the place. Her natural hair was pulled back in a sleek twist, and she wore a tailored charcoal suit that probably cost more than my truck but somehow didn't look pretentious on her. She moved with the easy confidence of an Alpha who knew exactly how good she was and didn't need to prove it to anyone.
"Ms. Devereaux." Her smile was warm but professional as she extended her hand, her grip firm and sure when I shook it. "It's good to finally meet you in person. I've heard so much about you from my sources, I feel like we're already old friends."
"Your sources?" I blinked, caught off guard by the phrasing.
Delphine's eyes flicked to Remy, and something knowing passed between them—a shared look that made my stomach tighten with sudden uncertainty. "I think I'll let Mr. Thibodaux explain that one. After we've won, of course." She winked, actually winked, and turned to survey my three Alphas with an assessing gaze. "Gentlemen. I trust you're all prepared to look intimidating and say nothing unless absolutely necessary?"
"That's pretty much my default setting." Silas's voice was dry as dust, his scarred arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the window frame. A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth—the closest thing to humor he typically allowed himself.
Delphine let out a surprised laugh that transformed her whole face from professional to genuinely delighted, her dark eyes crinkling with genuine mirth.
"Oh, I like you." She pointed at him with one manicured finger. "You, I like. Now—" She turned back to me, all business again. "Here's how this is going to go. Crescent Holdings' lawyers are going to come in here with their tails between their legs, but they're still going to try to salvage something from this disaster. They'll lowball us on the settlement. They'll try to include clauses that protect them from future litigation. They'll attempt to make this go away as quietly as possible."
She set her briefcase on the conference table and popped it open with a decisive click. "We're not going to let them. We have documentation of every dirty trick they've pulled, every law they've broken, every palm they've greased. We have witness statements from half the parish. And we have—" She pulled out a thick folder and set it on the table with a satisfying thump. "—financial records that would make a federal prosecutor weep with joy."
My eyes went to Remy again, and this time he had the grace to look slightly sheepish, his dimples appearing as he shrugged one shoulder. "Told you I'd been digging, cher."
"Digging is an understatement." Delphine's voice held a note of genuine admiration. "Your Alpha has contacts I would kill for. The kind of contacts that can get into places most people don't even know exist." She paused, tilting her head. "Your father has quite the network, Mr. Thibodaux. Please give him my regards—and my thanks. Without his help, this case would have taken months longer to build."
I turned to stare at Remy, my heart doing something complicated in my chest. "Your father helped with the case?" I blinked, processing. I knew Remy had called his father, knew they'd had that emotional conversation that had left him wrecked and hopeful in equal measure. He'd told me afterward, curled up in my arms on the dock, about the years of misunderstanding finally cleared away. I hadn't realized just how much his father had done behind the scenes. "I knew you called him, but you never said he was involved in all this?—"
"Didn't want to make a big thing of it." Remy rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking more vulnerable than I'd ever seen him. The easy charm was still there, but underneath it was something softer, something almost nervous. His eyes dropped to the floor, then rose again to meet mine. "When I told him what Crescent Holdings was trying to do to you, to your land—he offered to help. Made some calls. Called in some favors. Got me access to information I never could have found on my own." He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly. "He's a lawyer, cher. A powerful one. He knows people who've dealt with companies like this before."
"Remy." My voice came out thick with emotion, my chest aching with a sudden fierce tenderness. I'd known about the phone call, known about the reconciliation—but this was something else entirely. His father had gone to battle for me without ever meeting me. For his son's sake. For our pack.
"You know my family, cher. Old money, old connections." His smile was crooked, almost shy, a far cry from his usual confident grin. "My father might not have approved of all my choices over the years, but when I told him about you—about us, about our pack—" He took a breath, his amber eyes bright with something I couldn't quite name, something that looked likehope and healing all tangled together. "He wanted to help. Said any woman who could wrangle three Alphas and an alligator was someone worth fighting for."
