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Roark reeled his line in only to discover that Rusty had been spot on. His worm was gone.

That explains that, Rusty muttered. And you don’t have to ask. We’re mated now, there shouldn’t be any secrets between us. You’re long overdue, but if I’m going to tell that story, I only want to tell it once, so let’s table it until Logan is with us and I can mentally prepare to tell it.

I respect that, Roark replied and left it alone, turning his focus back on the fish.

It’s not because of him.

Huh?

Me deciding to tell you now isn’t because we found Logan, Rusty said as he rebaited his line. It’s because Flame couldn’t say the words either when we were sitting on the boulder that night. It dawned on me then that neither one of us had uttered her name since she died. I can’t keep carrying that. Neither can Flame. I’m the older brother, so if anyone is going to touch that subject first, it needs to be me so I can help him finally come to terms with it.

Roark took a moment to let that sink in. You didn’t have to tell me that…but thanks. My thoughts hadn’t swung that way, but they might have at some point down the line and I wouldn’t have wanted to come and ask you.

I know.

Something dawned on him, and he cocked his head, studying Rusty. Look at us, adulting like some serious muthafuckers out here.

Shit…you’re right. When the fuck did that happen?

Dunno, but I like it, Roark admitted.

So do I.

Rusty reached out, and Roark met him halfway, holding hands until he finally got another bite. There were moments in the past they’d shared that felt like a movie or a hazy dream, fading in and out until everything blurred. Their old selves would have scoffed at them right now, content to lead stationary lives instead of chasing leads across the country in the pursuit of justice.

And adventure.

Truth be told, it was the adventure part that came first. When the Howling Devils had first left pack grounds, it was to do what they did best.

Socialize.

Their mission had been to suss out which wolves were genuine in their dealings with others and which were untrustworthy so the pack wouldn’t enter allegiances with the wrong wolves. They were spies in leather instead of suits, able to make friends among the very wolves who would determine whether the pack was friend or foe. In a twisted sort of way, they’d set themselves up as the wolves to hire if other wolves wanted to ensure something got done.

They’d forged alliances, brought peace between packs and opened lines of communication between Comet Lake and other shifter communities. Allowing them to start dismantling the exotic shifter trade from the inside out, canceling both ends of whatever contract had been in play, and eventually having the help and resources to begin working backward to the source.

In a few months, it would all be in the hands of the High Council of Shifters, who had way more reach than the Howling Devils had ever wanted. Being able to enjoy the home they’d fought so hard to protect was one of the best feelings in the world. Friendship. Family. Community.

Pack.

Thinking awfully hard over there, Rusty said, drawing Roark from his thoughts.

Just taking a moment to appreciate what we have and what it took to get here, Roark admitted.

Pretty fucking amazing when you sit and think about it.

Like now.

Exactly.

When we left here, barely grown, stupid as fuck, and cocky as hell, I pictured it all being one long, rolling party, from one pack to the next, Rusty admitted. We’d meet people, hang out, get drunk, toss a few one-liners out, and see if anybody bit in the wrong way. Coolest job ever.

Fucker, if you knew what I was thinking, why’d you ask?

I didn’t, Rusty replied, shrugging. Was just my interpretation of what you said.

Spot on, as usual.

After all these years, I’d be ashamed of myself if I wasn’t.