Page 70 of Alpha Charmed

“Selfish.” Her voice is soft, almost amused. “You’ve never been selfish a day in your life.”

“I’m learning.”

The streets of The Hollow are mostly empty—word of the council confrontation has spread, and most of Mistvale is apparently processing from the safety of their homes. We pass The Crescent Cup, where Marcus and Thalia watch from the window with expressions of vampire inscrutability. Marcus raises a coffee cup in silent acknowledgment.

We pass Moonpetal Bakery, where Sunny waves enthusiastically while Biscuit the toad maintains his air of dignified disapproval. A sign in the window already reads: “Congratulations to our community leaders! Celebratory cookies available tomorrow!”

“That was fast,” Anouk observes.

“Sunny’s gossip network is legendary.”

We pass Thornwick Books, where Berry presses her face against the glass with obvious delight. Her quill is still smoking from the earlier interview session. Tomorrow’s historical record is writing itself, apparently.

“Everyone is watching.”

“Let them watch.” I keep walking, not slowing. “I’ve wanted to carry you off somewhere since the moment we met. They can document the occasion.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means pack territory. My cabin. A fire, a bed, and absolutely no one who needs a single request from either of us until morning.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“You sound tired.”

“I am tired.” She yawns against my shoulder. “But I’m also yours. And apparently being carried through town like a very dignified sack of potatoes.”

“The most elegant sack of potatoes I’ve ever carried.”

We reach the edge of pack territory as the sun begins to set. The forest rises around us, ancient trees creating a canopy that filters the golden light into something soft and welcoming. The path is well-worn—generations of wolves have walked it before me, and generations will walk it after.

But tonight, it’s just us. Just me and my mate, heading home.

“Caius?” Her voice is sleepy, muffled against my shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For coming for me. For never giving up. For waiting all those years even when I gave you every reason to walk away.”

“I was never going to walk away.” I press a kiss to her hair. “You were always worth waiting for.”

“Even when I was being impossible?”

“Especially then.”

Something deep and certain settles in my chest—the compass finding true north, the awareness of her steady and unbreakable where it lives behind my ribs.

She laughs—tired, genuine, perfect—and lets herself relax fully against me.

I carry her the rest of the way in comfortable silence. The ritual failed. The Preservers lost. And the woman I’ve loved for years is, finally, truly mine.

NINETEEN

ANOUK

The cabin is larger than I expected.

Set slightly elevated on the hillside, it overlooks the pack center below—a sprawl of homes and gathering spaces connected by well-worn paths. The massive stone fireplace is visible through the windows, warm light spilling out into the evening darkness. Comfortable furniture arranged for someone who might be human or wolf at any moment. A kitchen designed for crowds.