Now?
I’m sitting at a worn wooden table in the back room of my bookstore—mybookstore—while Delilah and Brooke casually explain things like pack dynamics, territorial instincts, and why I apparently shouldn’t wander too far past the eastern trail without telling someone first.
My life has officially gone off the rails. And somehow… I’m still here. Still listening.
Still trying to understand.
“Okay,” I say, holding up a hand as Brooke launches into what feels like her third explanation of patrol rotations. “Let me make sure I have this straight.”
Brooke grins. “This should be good.”
I point between them. “There’s no official ‘alpha’ in Redwood Crossing, but Archer is basically the guy everyone listens to when things get serious.”
“Correct,” Delilah says, nodding approvingly.
“And Magnus is like… the wise elder who pretends he’s not in charge but definitely is.”
Brooke snorts. “Also correct.”
“And everyone else just sort of… falls into place depending on skills and relationships?”
“More or less,” Delilah says. “It’s less rigid than a traditional pack, but the instincts are still there.”
I lean back in my chair, processing that.
“So it’s like a community built on vibes and survival instincts,” I summarize.
Brooke laughs. “I’m going to start using that description.”
“You’re welcome.”
I blow out a breath, glancing around the bookstore. The shelves are still lined with books I chose. The counter still holds the same little jar of bookmarks I set out opening day.
It looks normal. It feels anything but.
“Where do I fit into all of that?” I ask quietly.
The question hangs there longer than I expect. Delilah and Brooke exchange a glance. And suddenly, I’m very aware that this isn’t just casual conversation anymore.
“You’re… important,” Delilah says carefully.
I arch a brow. “That sounds ominous.”
“It’s not meant to,” she assures me. “But being Archer’s mate?—”
“Claimed mate,” Brooke adds, not even trying to hide the smirk in her voice.
I shoot her a look. “Yes, thank you for the reminder.”
She grins wider.
Delilah continues, more serious. “It changes how people see you. Not just because of him, but because of what the bond represents.”
“Which is…?” I prompt.
“Stability,” she says. “Strength. Continuity.”
I blink.
