Page 33 of Talk Howly to Me

But it wasn't just Sloane's reaction that stole Kozue's breath.

The triad bond blazed to life with a powerful intensity that made his wolf surge toward the surface. For the first time since that night in the lodge lobby, he felt the complete connection—not just his bond with Sloane, not just his brotherhood with Ronan, but the three of them linked in perfect, inevitable unity.

This is what it's supposed to feel like, he realized with stunning clarity. Not competition or sacrifice or stepping aside. Just the three of us as one unit.

Ronan's eyes met his over Sloane's head, and Kozue saw his own revelation reflected there. The Alpha's usual composed mask had slipped entirely, revealing raw wonder and something that looked remarkably like relief. For twenty-seven years, they'd shared everything—childhood, tragedy, responsibility, dreams. Now they understood they were meant to share this too.

Sloane cleared her throat. "Thank you," she managed, but her voice came out breathless and shaken.

Both men pulled their hands back, the sudden absence of contact leaving all three of them bereft. Kozue's palm still tingled where he'd touched her soft skin, and his wolf whined at the loss of connection.

He fumbled in his pocket and produced a napkin, offering it to her with fingers that weren't entirely steady. "S'mores are notorious for their lack of structural engineering," he said, proud that his voice sounded almost normal.

She accepted the napkin and wiped her mouth, but her eyes remained dark with desire and something that looked remarkably like hope. When she looked between him and Ronan, Kozue caught his breath at the possibility he saw there—as if she was finally allowing herself to imagine that maybe, impossibly, this could work.

THIRTEEN

SLOANE

Sloane's eyes opened to golden morning sunlight flooding through the large windows of her suite, painting warm rectangles across her bed. For the first time since arriving at Hale Lodge, she felt completely rested—not just physically, but emotionally. The crushing weight of confusion and fear that had pressed against her chest for the past day and a half had lifted, replaced by something that felt dangerously close to hope.

Last night changed everything.

She stretched beneath the luxurious sheets, her muscles pleasantly loose from hours of genuine laughter and conversation around the bonfire. The memory of sitting between Ronan and Kozue, trading childhood stories and learning the intricate art of s'more construction, brought a smile to her lips that she couldn't suppress.

But it was the other memory that made her pulse race and her skin flush with remembered heat.

The moment when both men had touched her simultaneously—Ronan's thumb catching chocolate from her chin while Kozue wiped marshmallow from her lips—her entire world had shifted on its axis. The sensation had been unlike anything she'd ever experienced, as if every nerve ending in her body had suddenly awakened and recognized something fundamental and undeniable.

That's what the triad mate bond feels like.

The realization should have terrified her. Instead, it filled her with a fierce certainty that made her wolf-shifter revelation seem almost mundane by comparison. Her body had known what her mind was still struggling to accept: these two powerful, protective men belonged to her just as surely as she belonged to them.

No wonder I've been attracted to both of them since the moment I arrived. It wasn't confusion or desperation—it was recognition.

Sloane threw back the covers and padded across the cool hardwood floor to her duffel bag, energy thrumming through her system like electricity. For the first time in days, she had something productive to contribute. Ronan had asked her last night to assist with his workout class and specifically requested that she teach some self-defense techniques.

Finally, something I'm actually good at in this impossible new world.

She pulled out her black leggings and a sports bra, grateful that her limited wardrobe included at least one outfit appropriate for physical activity. The familiar weight of athletic wear felt like putting on armor—not the emotional kind she usually wore, but the practical protection of someone who understood her own capabilities.

After securing her long hair in a high ponytail, she caught her reflection in the dresser mirror. The woman staring back looked different somehow—less guarded, more alive. There was color in her cheeks and a brightness in her hazel eyes that had been missing for longer than she cared to admit.

When was the last time I looked forward to anything this much?

She glanced down at her bare feet and considered her limited footwear options. Her combat boots were hardly appropriate for a fitness class, and she didn't own sneakers. The memory of the attack at the general store flickered through her mind, along with the sobering reminder that someone was still hunting her. Going back to town for proper athletic shoes wasn't just inconvenient—it was potentially dangerous.

Maybe Ronan stopped the threat when he and Bob took down those three wolves. Maybe I'm finally safe.

The thought felt too good to be true, but she pushed aside her instinctive skepticism. She'd spent enough time expecting the worst. Today, she was choosing to believe that the danger had passed and that Hale Lodge truly could be the sanctuary it appeared to be.

Sloane made her way through the lodge's corridors, navigating the path she'd memorized during her brief tenure as Ronan and Kozue's personal assistant. The building hummed with quiet morning activity—the distant sound of Emerson's voice greeting early-rising guests, the gentle clatter of breakfast preparation in the kitchen, and the soft murmur of conversation from the dining area.

This place feels like a living thing, she realized as she walked.

She finally found the gym tucked into the lodge's eastern wing, and the moment she stepped inside, her breath caught in genuine appreciation.

The space was nothing short of spectacular. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered breathtaking views of the mountain landscape, while state-of-the-art equipment was arranged with both functionality and aesthetics in mind. Free weights, resistance machines, cardio equipment, and an open area with mats for floor exercises created distinct zones without feeling cramped or cluttered. Everything gleamed with the kind of maintenance that spoke to serious investment and genuine care.