“It’s a really, really good idea,” Logan adds softly. “Not only are you helping yourself, but you’re also helping others by providing them support.”
I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.
This is the answer I’ve been hoping for. This is the tool I can use to get me through those moments where it seems like the world is ending.
By helping others, I can help myself.
I can sense the pride in the room from the Alphas. They bloom in the air, and I sigh contentedly against Logan’s chest, the relief in my soul palpable.
Their support makes me brave.
“I think I want to try moving to your packhouse for a bit,” I say slowly. “I think it’s a good idea. I only changed my mind out of fear, and I don’t want that to be the reason. I trust the three of you.”
“I would like that,” Logan says, his voice hoarse. “Very much.”
And suddenly, a weight is lifted from my chest.
I know I’m making the right decision.
26
LOGAN
My packhouse isn’t clean enough.
“I haven’t vacuumed in two days,” I warn everyone, to which Fang mock gasps.
“Uh oh. I don’t know if we can stay here, then,” he says, grinning at Stella as she perches on her tower. She eyes him quizzically but then flops onto her back and shows off a magnificent belly.
“I forgot how nice this place is,” Maeve chirps. “Are your ceilings high enough?” she cranes her neck up. “Imagine how big of cat tree you could put here.”
“The acoustics are insane, too,” Fang adds.
They’ve been here before, but I would still like their approval—if this is the place we’re all going to live, I want it to be as appealing as possible.
I love Maeve. She’s my scent match, but Fang and Ivan are also my packmates and friends.
The new pack bed is installed, and it’s fitted with nesting blankets, throw blankets, and enough pillows for all of us.
I hope Maeve likes it.
It’s only been a day since Maeve left work, terrified of what happened to Alvin—but her scent is back to how it originally was, no longer that terrible, charred note in it.
I can still see the occasional tension flicker across her face, though.
I stay closer to her than usual, take her hand more freely than I used to—I want her to know that she’s not alone in whatever goes on in her head.
“Where’s Trooper?” she asks, placing her suitcase down and heading past the living room.
“If he’s not there, he’s usually?—”
“Found him!”
Ivan, Fang and I follow her voice to the main bedroom, where the pack bed has been set up.
“Holy shit, Logan!” Fang exclaims. “How much did you drop on this thing?”
“Uh…” I rub the back of my neck. “I don’t remember.”
