He held my gaze for a moment longer, understanding passing between us that didn't need words. Then he turned backto the water, and we stood there in comfortable silence, watching the sun sink toward the tree line.
Gumbo surfaced one more time, his yellow eyes finding us on the dock. He stared for a long moment—at me, then at Silas, then back again.
Then he slow-blinked at both of us and disappeared beneath the surface.
Silas made a sound that might have been a laugh, low and rusty like he didn't use it often. "Think we passed."
"Think so." I felt a knot loosen in my chest—one that had been tight for a long time. "Come on. Artemis probably has dinner ready. And if Remy's out of the shower by now, he'll eat everything before we get there."
We gathered our tools and headed up the bank toward the cabin, our footsteps falling into an easy rhythm. Behind us, the new dock stood solid and straight, ready to weather whatever storms came next.
Pack territory. Pack work. Pack home.
For the first time in four years, I didn't feel like I was building alone.
Chapter Thirty-One
Artemis
They showed up at my door Saturday evening looking like they were about to face a firing squad. All three of them, standing on my porch in a row—Harper in the middle, Remy to his left, Silas to his right. Harper was holding a wooden box I didn't recognize. Remy had his guitar case. Silas had something tucked under his arm, wrapped in brown paper.
"Okay." I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest. "You all look like you're about to tell me someone died. What's going on?" Harper cleared his throat. Then cleared it again. His ears were turning red, and he couldn't quite meet my gaze.
Remy nudged him with an elbow, his usual grin tempered with encouragement. "Go on, mon ami. We talked about this."
"I know what we talked about." Harper's voice came out rougher than usual, his massive hands tightening on the wooden box. "I'm getting there."
Silas said nothing. Just waited, patient as stone, his pale gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder. I bit the inside of mycheek to keep from smiling. Whatever this was, they'd clearly rehearsed it, and it was falling apart spectacularly.
"Harper." I gentled my tone, taking pity on him. "Just tell me."
He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders like he was preparing for battle, and finally looked at me. "We want to court you. Officially. All three of us." The words came out stilted, formal, nothing like his usual quiet rumble. "Not just... dating. Courting. Toward a pack bond. If you'll have us."
My heart stuttered in my chest. I'd known this was coming—had felt it building since the storm, since they'd declared themselves pack, since they'd spent the night in my nest. But hearing it said out loud, in Harper's rough voice with his ears burning red and his grip white-knuckled on that box...
"Keep going." The words came out softer than I intended, my heart beating hard against my ribs. "I'm listening."
Harper glanced at Remy, who gave him an encouraging nod.
"We talked about it. The three of us." Harper's jaw worked like he was chewing on words that didn't want to come out. "About how this would work. Three Alphas, one Omega—it's not traditional. But we want to do this right." He paused, swallowed hard. "I'd be Head Alpha. If that's... if you're okay with that. Remy and Silas agreed. Someone has to lead, and they..." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
"They trust you." I finished for him, watching the surprise flicker across his face. "So do I."
Something shifted in Harper's expression—a crack in that stoic armor he wore like a second skin. "You'd be Pack Center. The heart of it. Everything we build, we build around you." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "That's how it should be. That's how we want it."
Remy stepped forward, his usual charm softened into honesty. "We're not perfect, chère. We're going to stumble.Fight. Make mistakes." His amber eyes were serious for once, no trace of his usual playful glint. "But we'll do it together. All four of us. That's what pack means."
Silas spoke for the first time, the words low and certain. "You won't be alone. Not anymore. Whatever comes—Crescent Holdings, heats, anything—we face it together."
I looked at them—these three men who had walked into my life one storm at a time and refused to leave. Harper, who spoke in rumbles and protected with his whole body. Remy, who hid his wounds behind laughter and charm. Silas, who'd lost everything and still found the courage to try again.
My Alphas. My pack.
"Court me properly, gentlemen." I let a slow smile curve my lips, watching the tension drain from their shoulders. "I expect to be impressed." Harper's exhale was shaky with relief. Remy let out a whoop that startled a heron from the cypress trees. Even Silas's mouth curved into that almost-smile that meant he was genuinely happy.
"We brought gifts." Harper stepped forward, holding out the wooden box with fingers that trembled slightly. "Courting gifts. Traditional."
I took the box, running my fingers over the aged wood. It was old—decades old, maybe more. The hinges were brass, tarnished with time, and someone had carved initials into the corner: J.F. + M.F.
