"I hate myself for caring. I hate you for making me care. I hate all of it."
Eventually I run out of words. Run out of anger. Or maybe I'm just exhausted. I sink back onto the couch at the far end, as far from him as I can get.
We sit in silence. My chest is tight, my throat raw.
"Where are you going to go now?" I ask finally. Voice hoarse.
"I don't know."
"Stay here until you figure it out."
He looks up at me with confusion in his eyes.
"I'm so angry at you," I say. Each word deliberate. "Angry and hurt and confused. But you still own a piece of my heart. It's small. Smaller than it was, but it counts." I look at him. "I don't want to see you suffer. You didn't just lose me. You lost your pack, your brothers, your scent match. Everything."
His face crumples.
"I don't want to make it worse," I continue. "So stay. Stay safe. Finish healing. Figure out what comes next."
"Vee—"
"That's all I can offer you. Safety. Time. Nothing more."
He nods, solemn yet understanding.
I walk to the door and pause with my hand on the frame.
"For what it's worth—" His voice stops me. "I meant what I said the night I got here. Every word. And I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it right. Even if you never forgive me."
I don't turn around. "I know," I say.
Then I walk out.
Alex and Malcolm are on their feet the second I step onto the porch.
Malcolm starts to say my name and I walk straight into him, straight into his arms, and he catches me and holds on tight. The purr starts immediately, deep and consuming. Alex's hand lands on my back, steady and grounding.
I don't cry. I'm too empty for tears. I just let them hold me, let their scents wrap around me, let myself take comfort not because I need it but because I want it.
The door behind me opens.
Rhys steps out.
He doesn't say anything. He never says much. He just moves to where I'm standing wrapped in Malcolm's arms and Alex's hand on my back, and he sits down on the porch step beside us, close enough that his shoulder presses warm against my hip. His hand finds mine hanging at my side and wraps around it, careful and complete.
His purr starts up. Broken and stuttering and low, like it always is, speaking directly to the parts of me that are in pieces right now.
I look down at him.
He looks up at me.
The look on his face is the simplest thing I've seen all day. No strategy in it, no complexity, no history. Just:I'm here. I've got you. That's all.
I tighten my fingers around his.
Malcolm purrs above me. Alex's hand is steady on my back. Rhys holds my hand from the step below.
I close my eyes.
