“That you’re the pack Luna, and that you belong to me.
She nestles closer to me and I put my arm around her shoulders. .
She's still flushed when we walk back into the clearing, warmth in her cheeks and her hair loose, the cloak hangingfrom her shoulders over the dress. The bonfire is lower, the feast moved to its comfortable middle stage.
Then someone in the outer ring howls.
It spreads quickly, the whole pack taking it up, voices layering into the single sustained sound that is the pack speaking with one intention.
Cassidy looks at me.
I take both her hands, turn toward the clearing, and kiss her in front of all of them, because there is no version of this that shouldn't be witnessed.
When I raise my head the pack is still.
"No outside force," I say, loud enough to carry to the tree line, "will fracture this pack again." I look along the tree line. "What we are is what we choose to be. And what we choose is this." I look at Cassidy. "Together."
The howl that answers is unanimous and complete, rising off the mountain and into the cold night sky, and the bonfire snaps and throws sparks upward. Cassidy Ellis stands in my Alpha cloak with the Luna sigil warm on her shoulder and looks at the pack that is now also hers.
I squeeze her hands once.
She squeezes back.
39
CASSIDY
Iwatch the site crew from the tree line with my coffee in a Styrofoam cup, marking the staked perimeter against my terrain map. The location is good—neutral ground between Blackmoore territory and the county road, close enough to the forest edge to justify the wildlife focus, far enough from any pack patrol route that a researcher with a camera won't accidentally document anything they shouldn't.
I picked the site myself, which means I've also already documented every sight line, every access path, and every camera angle that could become a problem if someone enthusiastic points their equipment in the wrong direction.
Alden finds me there watching the construction.
"You're going to stand here all day," he says.
"Probably not all day," I say. "Most of it."
He looks at the foundation work. "You trust the placement?"
"I picked it." I hand him my terrain map. "Pack patrol routes run south and west. There's a natural terrain break between them that makes the separation plausible without engineering it."
He studies the map for a quick moment. "And the cameras on the hunter trails?"
"They’ll be installed next week," I say. "Ciaran has the equipment list. We're running feed to a monitor in the sheriff's station and a secondary monitor in the war room. Any vehicle on the access roads gets logged automatically." I take the map back. "Graves is enthusiastic about the poaching deterrent angle. He can justify the camera network to the county as a wildlife protection measure, which it is."
Alden looks at me. "You have a contact you want to bring in for the station?"
"Dr. Layla Nair," I say. "We were in the same doctoral cohort. She's been trying to get a long-term mountain carnivore study funded for three years and keeps getting outbid on prime sites." I look at him. "She's rigorous, she's not a sensationalist, and she owes me a favor from a data-sharing arrangement." I pause. "She'll follow the study corridor design I give her without questioning it."
"And she won't look where she shouldn't look?" Alden confirms.
"She'll look exactly where the data tells her to look," I say. "That's what makes her good, and that's what makes her safe." I hold his gaze. "I'll contact her this week."
He nods once. "Do it."
To formalizethe tentative arrangement with the town, Alden and I ask the sheriff to a ceremonial ribbon cutting.
Graves brings two deputies, but no media. The gesture is symbolic, not meant to draw attention. He shakes Alden's hand first, then mine.
