Goddess, she’s impossible. Brave, reckless, and stubborn as hell.
I run a hand through my hair and mutter, “You sound like Ryder.”
She smirks. “That’s high praise.”
Despite everything, the corner of my mouth twitches into a smile. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
“I’ll put it in writing,” she teases softly, but the moment fades quickly as she looks back toward the trees. “We need to tell the others.”
“I already did. Ryder’s deciding how much to share with the pack. We like to keep them informed, but there’s only so much threat they can handle before they start to leave.”
Paige nods, her shoulders squaring. I can smell her fear, but she’s still standing. Pride swells in my chest. A weaker woman would have run already, but not our mate. I sense that same quiet power radiating from her that I felt earlier.
“What’s happening to you, Paige?” I ask.
She gives me a small smile and shrugs. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
I want to. I need to. But all I know is that whatever she’s becoming, it’s connected to something ancient and strong-something the rest of us barely understand.
I brush my thumb over her knuckles. “Is it hurting you?”
“No, just… different. I feel more aware. Stronger.”
My chest tightens. “Good. Keep it that way.”
A sudden clatter inside the cabin makes us both jump. Paige laughs softly, hand resting over her heart.
“Come on, we should help with dinner before those two destroy the kitchen,” she says, holding out her hand.
I pause, looking at her outstretched hand before taking it and letting her lead me inside. If our time together is limited, I’ll make sure to spend every moment I can with the people I love.
Paige pulls me into the kitchen, where chaos reigns. Jaxon sits perched on the counter, proudly stirring a bowl, while Callen tries-and fails-to keep things under control. Sauce smudges his cheek, and his face is a portrait of exasperation.
Paige’s laughter rings out, bright and light, as she swoops in to save dinner from disaster. I lean against the doorframe for a moment, just watching them. The fading sunlight streams through the window, catching in her hair, lighting up Jaxon’s grin, softening Callen’s gaze when he looks at her. Something inside me eases.
I could have died out there. Could have left them behind. But standing here now, with the scent of garlic and herbs filling the air and laughter echoing through the house, I can’t imagine not being part of this.
I catch Callen’s eye, and there’s something unspoken there-something deep. I don’t know what I want from him anymore, but right now, that doesn’t matter.
Right now, I just want to be here. Alive. Loved.
I push off the wall and step fully into the room, ruffling Jax’s hair and stealing a piece of bread from the counter. He yelps in protest, and Paige swats me with a wooden spoon, laughing again. It’s messy, loud, and perfect.
I look at them and make a silent promise to myself: whatever comes next, I will fight for this. For them. For us.
**Ryder’s Perspective**
Dinner tonight carries a semblance of normalcy. The kitchen buzzes softly with laughter, the comforting warmth wrapping around us like a familiar blanket. Paige’s smile, gentle and unwavering, makes the weight of everything else a little easier to bear. For a fleeting moment, we all pretend that life is steady, unshaken. Yet, beneath my laughter at Jaxon’s painfully bad joke, a part of me remains vigilant, scanning the edges of the room and the shadows beyond. The faint but unmistakable scent of worry clings to Remy, subtle yet persistent. Callen senses it too-I see it in the way his jaw tightens involuntarily, in the nervous glances he casts toward the window.
By the time our plates are cleared and the last crumbs swept away, the sun has slipped behind the trees, leaving the sky a deepening shade of twilight. The evening air outside has grown cooler, crisp against our skin. We move quickly, tidying the kitchen with practiced efficiency. Jaxon pitches in, stacking dishes while Callen scrolls through his phone, waiting anxiously for an update from Jake on the water tests. When the message finally arrives, Callen exhales sharply, relief flooding his features.
“Clear,” he announces quietly. “No sign of the toxin this time.”
A collective breath seems to release from the room, as if we’ve all been holding it without realizing.
“That’s something,” Paige murmurs with a soft smile, brushing a damp curl away from her cheek.
“It’s good news,” I say, though the knot of tension in my chest refuses to loosen fully. “But we can’t afford to let our guard down.”
Callen nods in agreement. “Jake’s going to keep testing twice a day, just to be safe. He’s confident we’ll be able to detect the poison by scent alone if it shows up again.”
“Good,” I reply firmly. “We’ll update the pack tonight.”
Shortly after, we head out together. The night air is sharp and cool, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth as we make our way toward the pack center. I carry Jaxon in my arms, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing against my chest. Paige walks beside me, her hand brushing mine every few steps-a quiet but powerful reminder of everything I’m fighting for. Behind us, Remy walks with Callen and Parker, their voices low and serious as they discuss the upcoming patrol schedule.
When we arrive at the healer’s cabin, Jaxon is already drifting toward sleep, his head resting heavily on my shoulder. Before we even have a chance to knock, Poppy opens the door, her eyes lighting up with warmth as they settle on Jaxon.
“Rough day?” she asks softly.
“When is it not these days?” Paige replies with a tired laugh.
Poppy gently takes Jaxon from my arms, and he barely stirs. “He’ll be safe here,” she assures us.
“I know,” Paige says quietly, pausing to run a hand through our son’s hair before stepping back. “Be good for Aunty Pop’s, sweetheart. We’ll be back soon.”
Jaxon wraps his little arms around Poppy’s neck, snuggling close as he mumbles something about wanting a story.
We thank Poppy and then make our way toward the clearing at the center of the pack grounds. The meeting hall glows warmly beside our usual gathering spot, soft light spilling out into the night. Even before we reach the doors, the murmur of voices inside is unmistakable-the pack is already assembling, their anxious energy palpable. I hope we can offer them the reassurance they desperately need.
Tonight, we’ve chosen to hold the meeting indoors. With extra enforcers patrolling and families keeping their children close at home, the crowd is small enough to manage safely. The tension in the air is thick, a quiet unease that has lingered since the poisoning incident. It gnaws at me, knowing they’re scared, even though there’s little I can do to erase their fears completely.
Those who cannot be here in person have already been briefed or have someone present to relay information through the mind-link. The mind-link is an invaluable gift, but it can never replace the comfort of being together in the same space.
We could have conducted the entire meeting through the mind-link, but it wouldn’t feel right. Seeing the pack’s faces, watching them realize we’re not hiding or turning away, that we are confronting this head-on-it matters. It shows them we are present, alert, and ready to protect every mate, every child, every wolf under our care.
I glance at Callen, Paige, Parker, and Remy. They all feel it-the weight of responsibility, the burden of knowing the pack’s safety rests in our hands. But together, we are strong. We will get through this.
Inside, the atmosphere is heavy with tension. Every head turns toward us as we enter. Callen and I move to the front, the others taking their places beside us. Paige stands tall, her chin lifted with quiet strength, and her presence steadies me.
As the low murmurs die down, I step forward.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” I begin. “I know the past few days have been difficult, and fear has been running high. That’s understandable-we’ve faced dangers none of us expected. But we are not powerless, and we are not alone.”
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