Page 120 of Pistols & Peonies

“And,” he adds, almost as an afterthought, “I pretty much raised Whit after our parents died. Don’t think I did a great job of it.”

I huff a soft laugh, nudging his arm with my heel. “I highly doubt that. You’ve got stern, overprotective dad written all over you.”

He scoffs a quiet laugh.

“You’d be fine,” I add, my smile fading. “Me, not so much. Given my track record of life in general, it’s pretty much a guarantee that I’d screw it up.”

His hands tighten around my foot. “You wouldn’t,” he replies firmly.

I roll my eyes, not fully convinced but not arguing, either.

“Well,” I say, letting a smirk creep back in, “I’m fine with being the only one who gets to call you Daddy.”

His hands go still, something dark and heated flickering behind his gaze. That reaction sends a little thrill through me every damn time.

“Keep talking like that and you know what’ll happen,” he warns, voice low.

I laugh, waving him off. “Just make sure you pull out. Char’s right, the full moon’s coming fast.”

He nods, understanding the implication. She-wolves ovulate with the full moon, so since we’re on the same page about not having pups, we shouldn’t take any chances tempting fate.

It’s quiet for a beat, then Kane reaches for the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. “So, what are we watching?” he asks, grabbing a handful like we didn’t just have a whole life conversation sandwiched between trash TV and foot rubs.

“We were binging Real Housewives,” I tell him, shrugging. “But you can change it.”

He glances at the screen. “Is this the same one we watched before, with the women who pretend to be friends and talk shit behind each other’s backs?”

“Mhmm,” I confirm.

He leans back into the couch, tossing an arm up over the cushions. “Leave it on. I’ve been wondering how things panned out after that blonde skipped her friend’s baby shower to get lip fillers.”

I grin, something warm settling in my chest as I curl into him a little more, letting his presence and scent wrap around me. It should scare me how good this feels, how natural and in sync we’ve become. Instead, I just relax and enjoy it. Because this place– this man– feels more like home than anywhere I’ve ever been.

CHAPTER 38

Kane

Loose gravel crunches beneath the tires of my SUV as I pull into a parking spot at Forest Glen preserve, shifting the gear and cutting the engine. The silence that follows feels oppressive. Loaded, like the stillness before a storm.

My gaze lifts, tracking the dark line of trees beyond the parking lot, shadows pressing thick beneath the canopy. The leaves flutter, waving as though they’re beckoning us in, like this place remembers us from the last time we were here.

I can practically feel the tension radiating off Violet from the passenger seat. Her knee is bouncing, jaw set in that stubborn line she gets when she’s bracing for impact, and I don’t blame her. Last full moon, this place was the staging ground for the quarterly spectacle of the Pairing. Neither of us entered willingly, and both of us left forever changed.

I still vividly remember standing at Alpha’s side in the clearing as he rattled off the pairs he assigned to be mated. I was completely detached, controlled, and unaffected.

Or at least that’s what I told myself, until he called my name.

“Derek Kane.”

The sound of it raked like claws down my spine as the pack held their breath in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the announcement of who I’d be paired with. Alpha drew out the moment for maximum impact, milking it for all it was worth, then–

“Paired with Violet Slayter.”

Everything shifted when he called her name. I remember looking at her, seeing the way the color instantly drained from her face. The way her eyes went wide– not with awe or excitement, but with abject horror.

My jaw tightens at the memory, something raw and ugly twisting in my chest.

At the time, it felt like a cruel joke. She was too young, too beautiful– all fire and defiance, even standing there on the edge of having her freedom ripped away. And me? I was the one holding the blade.