The physical scars had healed, much like the ones that marked Liam's body—still visible but no longer raw.
Our footsteps echoed against the new hardwood flooring, the sound oddly intimate in the predawn quiet. Most of the club was still sleeping, giving us this rare moment of solitude. I'd planned it that way, wanting no distractions when I revealed what I'd created for him.
"Close your eyes," I said when we reached our bedroom door.
Liam hesitated, that instinctive wariness still surfacing occasionally despite the trust we'd built. Then his eyes fluttered closed, a small act of faith that still humbled me after all these months.
I moved behind him, covering his closed eyes with my large hands, feeling the warmth of his skin against my palms. "I've got you," I assured him, gently guiding him forward into our room. "Just a few more steps."
I navigated him carefully through the doorway, acutely aware of his smaller frame as I directed him across our bedroom. The standard furnishings were familiar—the king-sized bed where we'd spent countless nights talking, the dresser that still held more of my clothes than his, the nightstand with Percy's notebook resting on top.
Nothing here would surprise him.
"Ready?" I asked, positioning him to face the far wall.
I felt him nod beneath my hands. Taking a deep breath, I lowered my palms from his eyes, letting them rest on his shoulders instead. "Open your eyes, baby boy."
I watched as his eyes opened, blinking as they adjusted to the soft morning light filtering through our bedroom blinds. His gaze swept the room, confusion flickering across his features as he noted nothing unusual. Then I turned him slightly, directing his attention to what had once been a solid wall.
"There," I said softly, pointing to the glass door that now stood where blank drywall had been before.
Liam's head tilted in that curious way that reminded me of his lynx nature, his eyes narrowing as he studied the new addition. I could feel the subtle tension in his shoulders beneath my hands, not fear, but intense curiosity.
"Go on," I encouraged, giving him a gentle nudge forward. "Open it."
He crossed the room with those silent, graceful steps that still amazed me, reaching for the handle with cautious fingers. The door slid open with a whisper of sound, revealing what lay beyond.
I held my breath as Liam froze in the doorway, his body going utterly still with shock.
Beyond the glass door stretched a space that couldn't possibly exist in the middle of a motorcycle club compound—a private open-air atrium connected directly to our bedroom.
Natural earth replaced concrete, covered in lush grass that would be soft under bare feet. Small trees grew from carefully placed mounds, their branches reaching toward a ceiling of reinforced glass panels that allowed sunlight to stream through while protecting from rain and snow. Flowering bushes created secluded corners, their blooms selected for year-round color and the butterflies they would attract in warmer months.
At the far end, a small waterfall trickled over carefully arranged stones into a clear pool, the gentle sound of flowing water filling the space with soothing white noise. The entire area was enclosed—secure, private, yet open to the sky through the glass ceiling that would let Liam see the stars at night without leaving our room.
Liam took a hesitant step forward, then another, moving as if in a trance. I remained in the doorway, giving him space to explore what I'd created. His fingers trailed over a smooth river rock, touched the soft petal of a purple coneflower, dipped into the cool water of the pool. He moved with increasing confidence through the space, his golden eyes wide with wonder.
When he reached the center, he slipped off his shoes and socks, pressing his bare feet against the grass. I saw his eyes close, his head tilt back slightly as he connected with the earth beneath him.
I knew what he was doing—communing with the plants in that mysterious way he'd described, but I could never fully understand. The way that had kept him alive for fifteen years when everyone else around him died.
After a long moment, he opened his eyes and looked back at me. My breath caught at the sight of tears streaming freely down his scarred face—not tears of pain or fear, but something else entirely. Something I'd glimpsed only in our closest moments.
Joy. Pure, unguarded joy.
I crossed the threshold then, unable to stay away any longer. "Do you like it?" I asked, my voice rougher than I'd intended.
Liam moved toward me with purpose, closing the distance between us in three quick strides. Then his arms were around me, holding me with a fierceness that took me by surprise. His face pressed against my chest, his tears dampening my shirt as his body trembled against mine.
I wrapped my arms around him, one hand cradling the back of his head. "I wanted you to have a safe place," I murmured into his hair. "Somewhere you could shift without fear. Somewhere you could commune with nature, but still be safely inside our home. Somewhere that felt like freedom, but was still protected."
He nodded against my chest, his fingers gripping my shirt so tightly his knuckles turned white. When he finally pulled back, his golden eyes were red-rimmed, but blazing with emotion.
He reached for the notepad he always kept in his pocket, the one Percy had given him months ago. His hands were steady as he wrote, the pencil moving with confident strokes across the page.
When he turned it for me to see, the simple message made my heart stutter:"I'm ready to cement our bond."
I stared at the words, hardly daring to believe what I was reading. We'd discussed the mate bond, of course—the claiming bite that would link us forever, the permanent commitment itrepresented. I'd promised to wait until he was ready, never wanting to rush him into something so irrevocable.
