Page 69 of Howl Lotta Love

The pack gathered at the Alpha Lodge three weeks after the bridge, a celebration weeks in the making finally allowed to happen, and Jace stood at the head of the great room with Emma’s hand in his—a sapphire catching the lamplight at her finger, the same stone Gerri had chosen for her weeks before either of them would admit the engagement might turn real—and the entire community watching.

“Most of you already know her.” His voice carried easily across the packed room, steady in a way that had nothing to do with performance and everything to do with certainty. He kept one arm banded around her waist, unwilling to leave more than a few inches of space between them even for a speech. “Some of you watched the engagement announcement happen before either of us fully understood what it meant. I’m not introducing a fiancée today. I’m introducing my mate, my equal, and the future Alpha Female of this pack—not because tradition demands it, but because she has already proven, a dozen times over, exactly who she is.”

The room erupted. Emma, blinking back tears for what had to be the hundredth time that month, squeezed his hand and found her own voice once the noise settled.

“I want to add one thing.” She scanned the crowd, finding Gerri, finding the directors of half a dozen charities who’d flown in for this exact reason. “The theft that nearly destroyed this community happened because nobody was watching closely enough, for long enough, in the right places. That ends today. I’m establishing a permanent financial oversight council, funded and staffed to make sure no one ever does what Kane and the Chairman did again. It’s named for Nina Alvarez, the compliance analyst who died getting us the evidence that started all of this. She doesn’t get to be a footnote in somebody else’s case file. Not in mine.”

The applause that followed nearly took the roof off.

The celebration afterward was loud, chaotic, and utterly unlike anything either of them had experienced side by side before—music, barbecue, and a level of teasing that started the moment the formal speeches ended and showed no sign of stopping.

Roman presented Jace with a ceramic mug the moment he found a quiet corner, grinning ear to ear, clearly having waited months for exactly this opportunity.

“For the office. I had it custom made.” The mug read, in bold cheerful letters, WORLD’S SOFTEST ALPHA. “I want to see this on your desk every single day for the rest of your natural life, so every visiting alpha who comes to negotiate with you understands exactly who they’re dealing with.”

“I will throw this in the lake.”

“You’ll display it prominently, because deep down you know it’s accurate, and also because Emma’s standing right there and you’re not going to embarrass her by throwing a gift in front of company.”

Emma, standing right there, did nothing to discourage the mug’s survival, and kissed Jace’s cheek, which made the decision for him.

Milo materialized at Jace’s other elbow, a moment later, hand out, entirely unfazed by the interruption. “The betting pool has closed. You both owe me considerably more than pride now.” He caught Jace’s look and softened it, just slightly. “We shut it down the second she went missing, for the record. Didn’t feel right running odds on somebody while we were busy praying she was okay. Started it back up the moment Tucker found that spreadsheet, because at that point it felt more like a celebration than a bet.”

When Jace only stared at him, Milo elaborated, patient as ever. “I called the week, down to the day, four years ago, when Roman opened the first pool. Nobody ever believes me, and I win every single time regardless.” He pocketed the bills Roman produced with a groan of profound betrayal, and wandered off toward the barbecue, matter closed.

Claire found Emma by the dessert table not long after, two plates of cake balanced with the easy competence of a woman who’d apparently decided that showing up for her sister’s entire supernatural life meant showing up all the way. “Your future mother-in-law already asked me three questions about my dating life and one about my blood pressure,” she said, handing over a plate. “I like her. I’m terrified of her. Both things.”

“Welcome to the club.” Emma bumped her shoulder against Claire’s, warm all the way through. “Thank you for coming. I know this is a lot.”

“It’s a lot. It’s also the first time in your entire life you’ve looked like this.” Claire nodded at the room, at Jace visible across it, laughing at something Roman had said. “I’ll take a lot if this is what’s on the other side of it.”

Jace’s mother found them twenty minutes later, flushed with celebration and totally without any filter left to speak of, and asked her question loud enough for half the lodge to hear.

“So. When can I expect grandchildren? I’m not asking for a timeline. I’m asking for an intention.”

Emma went scarlet. Jace, for the first time in the entire evening, matched her exactly, and the synchronized mortification lasted long enough for Roman to capture it on his phone for what he promised would be permanent blackmail material.

Nora appeared at Emma’s elbow moments later, drink in hand, utterly delighted with the entire scene. “I’m claiming full credit for this relationship, by the way. All of it. The engagement, the mate bond, the grandchildren conversation you’re currently recovering from.”

“You didn’t do anything, Nora.”

“I introduced emotional accountability into your life at exactly the moment you needed it, and I will be accepting that credit at every future family gathering, thank you.” She nodded toward the far corner, where Milo was very obviously failing to win a flirtation contest neither of them had officially declared. “Also, I’m seeing someone. You may have noticed.”

“I noticed weeks ago.”

“Good. I wanted witnesses.”

Emma found Jace alone for a rare quiet moment near the edge of the lodge’s porch, watching the party from a small distance with an expression she hadn’t seen on him—unguarded and a little lost, entirely at odds with the celebration behind him. She came up beside him, leaning her weight into his side, and laced her fingers through his where his hand hung loose at the railing.

“Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere. Everywhere.” He turned to face her, hands settling at her hips. “I spent years believing leadership meant never needing anyone. That the whole job was carrying everything alone so nobody else had to. I built an entire company on that idea, and I never once let myself notice how lonely the version of me who believed it genuinely was, because noticing would have meant admitting the plan wasn’t working.”

“And now?”

“Now I have a mate who argues with me about tactical decisions, a team that teases me mercilessly, and a woman who taught me that needing someone isn’t weakness.” He kissed her, slow and grateful. “You didn’t only complete a bond, Emma. You completed a piece of me I didn’t know was unfinished.”

“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve said to a porch railing all night.”