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She shows me an image from a long time ago—the day I showed her the garden I made for us and told her I didn’t care where she’d been.
This is where I wanted to go, she tells me. And you got me here.
Two years ago, shaking hands with three-hundred graduates would have been my own personal version of hell.
This year, I volunteered.
I had to, for one very important reason: I truly couldn’t picture anyone else handing Serena her diploma.
She looks lovely in her cap and gown, the white fabric setting off her luminous eyes and the golden shimmer of her skin. I watch her out of the corner of my eye for the entire ceremony, my instincts pacing inside of me.
Making peace with them has been a process. Still, it’s no longer a shock when my Alpha’s voice rises from the place where we’re connected.
Mine.
Ours, I correct. You possessive bastard.
He almost seems to shrug, conceding. His pride blends into mine as I look around, noting how many more omegas Serena’s class has than previous grades.
I know that’s partially due to my brother. His law protecting omegas’ rights in the workplace passed nearly eighteen months ago and, ever since, we’ve had a huge influx of omega students, staff, and applicants.
Sending this thought to him through the bond, I add, Good work, Tris.
He nods at Serena, whose row stands to file up to the stage. Back at you.
I wish I could take even a crumb of credit for our omega’s brilliance, but it’s truly all her. She’s blown me away, taking on enormous course-loads and leaping through her school work with flying colors. Next fall, she’ll start her doctorate, which will make us colleagues, of sorts.
I catch the flash of her grin as she lines up along the side of the platform, thinking, You’ll always be my Professor, Mr. Thorne.
Those words still have me grinning after twenty-six more handshakes. Until finally—finally—our omega sweeps across the stage.
The dean announces her name, and I hear our family cheer, inside our bond and out loud for the whole assembly to hear. Serena’s bright sweetness swells between us as she steps in front of me, her smile beaming from her beautiful face.
The black diamond on her ring finger sparkles as she reaches for the diploma I hand her, curling my other hand around her free fingers. “Congratulations, Mrs. Thorne,” I say out loud.
And, inside, where no one else can hear, the words I’ve been thinking all day. My best student. My wife. My mate. I didn’t know I could love anything as much as I adore you, darling.
Serena squeezes my palm and leans up to kiss my cheek, not caring who sees. “I love you, too,” she whispers, her eyes warm, even as her lips quirk into my favorite, smart smirk. “Professor.”
After six months of renovations, the hinges on the back door still creak.
I frown at them as I push out of the house, stepping down into the grand backyard. I have no idea how she managed to spot the house with the biggest lawn in the whole damn city, but I’m beginning to think my omega can do just about anything.
Here’s hoping I’m still alive to enjoy that fact once she figures out what I’ve been up to.
Keeping secrets from her is next-to impossible. For one, our whole pack likes to keep our bond as open as possible. But, moreover, Serena is exceptionally perceptive.
She’ll make the most amazing counselor, just as she’s made an incredible student.
Pride lingers in my chest despite the fact that her graduation ceremony ended hours ago. In accordance with the plan the guys and I came up with, they all went with Serena and the Pierson Pack to a celebratory dinner while I pretended to get an urgent call.
Really, I’ve been here.
At our new house.
It’s the one I saw her staring at the night I took her out on our first date—a sprawling, modern-Gothic estate with an old-fashioned greenhouse tucked behind the imposing black home.
The truth is, I tried to procure it for her right after the end of her first heat with our pack, but it took nearly eighteen months and a hell of a lot of negotiating to get the previous owners to give it up.
