"Penne is a vehicle," Malcolm says. "Rigatoni is an experience."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"It means everything."
"Alex, tell him."
"I'm not getting involved in pasta discourse," Alex says.
"Rhys?"
Rhys's purr doesn't change. "I don't have opinions about pasta."
"Everyone has opinions about pasta," Malcolm says.
"I don't."
"That's an opinion."
I'm smiling into Rhys's shoulder. My pack is arguing about pasta shapes in a blanket nest on the floor while a movie nobody is watching plays in the background. Alex's hand is warm on my hip. Malcolm's fingers are still resting on my ankle. Finn's voice is rising in pitch the way it does when he's genuinely invested in being right.
This is it. This is what I was waiting for without knowing I was waiting for it.
The argument eventually dies down. The movie keeps playing. The room gets quieter. Finn's breathing evens out first, because Finn falls asleep faster than anyone I've ever met. Malcolm goes next, mid-sentence, which Finn would find hilarious if he were awake to witness it.
Rhys is still awake. He's always the last one. The sentinel thing, the need to make sure everyone is safe before he lets himself rest. I reach up and touch his jaw. The scar tissue under my fingers. He turns his head slightly and presses his mouth to my palm.
"Sleep," I whisper.
He closes his eyes. His purr keeps going. I don't think he can turn it off tonight.
Alex is still awake too. I can tell from his breathing.
"Hey," I say.
"Hey."
"Thank you. For everything."
He's quiet. Then his arm tightens around me. "You don't have to thank me."
"I know. I'm doing it anyway."
The cabin is quiet except for the movie's low murmur and the sounds of four people breathing around me. Rhys's stuttering purr. Malcolm's occasional sleep-mumble. Finn curled at the edge of the nest with his mouth slightly open.
I think about tomorrow. About the paperwork and the pack bond rebuilding and the house they keep talking about with the big kitchen and the land. About the garden I'll plant. About the life we're building, one ordinary day at a time.
Then I stop thinking about tomorrow.
Because I'm here. Right now. In this nest, with these people, with Alex's claiming mark still tender on my neck and the bond humming warm and new between us. This room full of people who chose me and who I chose back.
Whatever comes next will be good.
I know that now.
I close my eyes and let my pack carry me into sleep.
Epilogue
