by Callie Rose
My entire future exists in this family we’ve made together.
In the men who have become like brothers to me. In this woman who’s stolen my heart. And in the baby growing inside her.
30
Sable
I bend over the table set up in the middle of the street and point at an empty lot on the outskirts of the blueprints’ dark lines. “Couldn’t we fit another house here? A small family home. There’s plenty of space.”
Ridge squints at the plans, then raises his gaze to the row of old East Pack homes. “Yeah, you know, I think we could. Maybe even two. What do you think?” He glances at Archer. “You know this land better than I do. Is it stable?”
“It’s stable,” Archer agrees thoughtfully. “Rock and dirt. Maybe not great for growing crops, but good for building. But they’d have to be small houses. Really small.”
“I think small houses would be nice for new families,” I offer. “Rather than having to live in the apartments with all the bachelors. Kids deserve a yard to play in, even if it’s tiny.” My hand drifts to my abdomen. Even though the baby isn’t starting to show yet, I’m vividly aware of the little life growing inside me, and how I want to raise our child and provide for it. He or she will have a yard to play in, toys to play with, and friends all around.
A life much, much different from the one I had growing up.
Construction’s already started on the other side of the village, and it’s moving swiftly. The apartment building is a shell with a roof, ready for drywall and carpet, and there are twelve new cabins built down near the meeting house. We’re finalizing plans for the second phase of building, and I still feel like the newly renamed Montana Pack village needs more homes.
We aren’t exactly small anymore.
Amora leans over and points to another place on the blueprints, her dark hair swinging forward in her face. “Here too. There’s plenty of room between the last row of houses and the trees to add another street.” She looks up at me and winks. “They just need fresh eyes, don’t they?”
I return her grin with one of my own. “Too worried about aesthetics to worry about the fact we need to house way more people. Should we walk over there and do some looking around?”
Trystan grabs my arm and shakes his head sternly. “You’ve done enough walking for the day. You need to go put your feet up. For the baby. I’ll make you some lunch while these guys go check out the land.”
“You’re just trying to get her alone,” Dare accuses with a smirk. “I would much rather ‘make lunch’ than walk in the weeds.”
“I’m thinking of the baby,” Trystan shoots back with mock disgust. “Camilla said for her not to overdo it.”
I roll my eyes, and my gaze lands on Amora, who’s holding back laughter.
“Do you see what I have to deal with?” I shake my head in mock indignation. “The minute Camilla confirmed the pregnancy, I lost all free will. They’d carry me around on a cushion if I let them.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” Archer says as he rolls up the blueprints and slides the sheets back into the plastic tube for safekeeping. Then he hesitates, grinning slightly. “But I do think Trystan’s right. Go sit down and eat lunch. Don’t forget to take your vitamins when you’re done eating.”
I gesture toward my mates and look exasperatedly back at Amora. “See? Exhibit A. They’re even dictating what foods I eat. It’s like they think I can’t take care of myself!”
“We’re just thinking of the—”
“Yes, the baby, I know.” I sigh and wag my finger playfully at Archer. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid. I can help with building and plans, and I’m definitely capable of walking farther than the distance from the couch to the kitchen.”
Ridge leans over and kisses my forehead. “We know. But you don’t have to do those things when you have us to do them for you.”
Amora shakes her head with an amused chuckle. “Good luck with all this overly macho, protective alpha nonsense. If you feel the urge to punch one or all of them, I fully encourage it.”
All four of my men start in on Amora, who returns their banter with rapid fire precision like always. But I’m not paying attention—I can sense Gwen coming down the road behind me.
I turn and seek her out. It’s a beautiful day, so half the shifters on this street are outside, mowing lawns, kids playing in the small front yards, neighbors chatting together on the sidewalks. It’s idyllic—just the kind of place I can’t wait to raise my child in.
Gwen is a block away, greeting one of the village elders with a kind smile and a handshake. They exchange a few words before she nods at him, then continues her journey toward us. Her green gaze meets mine, and she lifts her chin a little in greeting.
She’s been here ever since the battle, staying with us while she helps secure the new borders around pack lands. With Cleo gone, the witch threat is essentially over, but it wouldn’t do to let our guard down, in case some other psychopath decides to pick up where Cleo left off. So she and I have redone all the wards and come up with a plan for ensuring they remain active and viable for years to come. I certainly don’t expect the same kind of concentrated attacks driven by Cleo, but in this world, you just never know.
“Alphas,” Gwen greets the men with a polite nod. “Sorry for interrupting, but I was hoping I might have a word with you all.”
“Of course.” I nod. “Is everything okay?”
Gwen takes a deep breath, then lets it out. She hesitates for a moment, then says, “You know I’ve loved my time here.”
“We’ve loved having you here,” I assure her, and it’s the truth.
Since she’s been staying here, Gwen’s presence, even more than mine, has helped the pack as a whole learn that not all witches are evil. I was sort of hoping she’d become a permanent resident of the village, but something about the tone of her voice tells me I’m going to be sad to hear what she says next.
“And several weeks have passed since the battle without incident,” she goes on. “I think it’s safe to say you shouldn’t anticipate any witch attacks going forward. That being said, I think it’s time for me to return home.”
My heart clenches, and I do my best to keep the disappointment from my expression. I’ve loved having another witch around to practice with.
“My time here has been peaceful, and I truly love this pack.” Gwen’s expression softens even as she shakes her head. “But I never intended to live among wolf shifters.”
“And we wouldn’t expect that of you,” Ridge offers. “You’ve done more for us than we can ever repay.”
Archer speaks up. “What will you do now?”
“I think I’ll go home to my cabin for a while. Take time for solitude and to recuperate. Going from total silence and peace to the chaos of this place was exhausting.” She laughs, and her gaze moves over the mountains. “Then I might begin to build my own coven. One based on empathy and compassion for everyone and everything. I imagine there are at least a few like-minded witches out there who want a place to call home.”
I clear my throat, trying to shove down my raging emotions, since they’re amplified by the pregnancy hormones. “Well, just so you know, you’ll always have a family here too.”
Gwen smiles and offers me her hand. “I know. And I’m sure we’ll see each other again someday.”
Her palm is cool and soft in mine, and I can feel the barest hint of power beneath her skin. “Good luck,” I tell her. “And thank you.”
Gwen makes the rounds, shaking the alphas’ hands and exchanging farewells with them. But when she gets to Amora, she hesitates, staring at the shifter as a look of uncertainty passes over her face.
Then, instead of taking Amora’s offered hand, Gwen steps closer and whispers something in her ear. I strain to hear what’s being said, unable to help myself even though it’s nosy as hell. But after weeks of being around shifters and their heightened senses, Gwen knows how to speak just low enough that I can’t hear her words.
“Keep in touch,” she says. Then she heads back down the street, presumably to get her things and start the long journey back to her mountain.
Amora hasn’t moved. She’s still in the same position she was in, hand held out in mid-air and a strange look on her face. I’m dying to know what Gwen told her, but if the witch worked that hard to keep us from overhearing it, then I can’t help but think it’s none of my business.
As Gwen turns out of sight down the road, Amora shakes her head and drops her hand back to her side, the startled confusion in her expression giving way to her usual confident, casual demeanor. She glances around at the alphas, who are all wearing nearly identical looks of concern as they gaze at her.
“What are you slackers doing?” She cocks an eyebrow. “Don’t you have some hammering to do? I know they need help putting up drywall down at the complex. I’m going to head there now.”
Then she gives me a wink and tosses an arm around Ridge’s shoulders, steering him and the other alphas down the road toward their next job. The guys are too intrigued by what just happened between Gwen and Amora to protest when I join them, which is nice because I’m ready to get my hands dirty.
I may be pregnant, but I’m fully capable of wielding a hammer just like they are.
And we’ve got a future to build.
Epilogue
Sable
Three Months Later
The room is quiet, and the ceiling fan spins lazily overhead in the afternoon sunlight filtering through the gauzy white curtains I chose for our new bedroom.
Trystan nuzzles his face against my growing belly, feathering tiny kisses down my side. Even though I’ve already been satisfied thoroughly, his lips brushing along my skin send my libido back into overdrive.
My head rests on Ridge’s warm chest, while Dare and Archer cuddle lazily against my body. I can’t recall a time I’ve ever been so happy and content with my life.
“Hey, quit turning her on,” Dare says, shoving Trystan’s face away from my stomach. “I don’t have it in me to go again.”
I laugh, and Ridge’s own chuckle echoes through my ear as he sweeps my hair away from my face and runs his fingers gently through it.
“Your inability to go again isn’t my problem,” Trystan retorts, and his tongue darts out to wet my skin.
The moan that comes out of me makes all of my mates groan in response.
“Fuck. You’re sexy as hell when you’re pregnant.” Trystan nips at my skin again. “Can we have a million babies?”
“Well, let’s start with one and go from there,” I shoot back, laughing as I rub a hand over my belly.
Ridge shifts beneath me, and I can tell he’s glancing over his shoulder at the clock on the bedside stand. “We need to get up anyway. Meeting’s in twenty, and I’m ninety percent certain Sable’s about to tell us she’s hungry.”
I look up at him without lifting my face. “I resent the implication.”
His warm hands cup my face. “Tell me our child isn’t hungry.”
With a sigh, I lever myself into a sitting position and begrudgingly agree. “Yes, our child is hungry.”
I’d spend every moment of the day in bed with my men if I could, but we’ve got a pack to run. So we shower together in the big standing shower my men custom built for our new home, where all four of them demand to be the one to rub soap on my belly. Then we grab a quick snack in the kitchen before we leave for the meeting.
The original East Pack meeting house has been expanded and updated. It’s more like a warehouse now, large enough to fit most of the Montana Pack, as long as some of the kids and grandparents stay home. If we’d gone any larger with the addition, it would have taken over too much of the land we needed for homes.
I follow the alphas to the head of the table, where several of the elders are gathered, chatting. While my men join in the conversation, Elder Jihoon turns to greet me with a nod.
“Hello, Sable,” he says as he reaches to pull out a chair for me. “How do you feel?”
“Exhausted,” I tell him honestly, thanking him with a nod as I sink into the chair.
“I’m sure,” he says. “But Camilla is taking good care of you and the baby, yes?”
“Camilla is wonderful,” I say. Eccentric as all get out, but definitely a great midwife.
“Good, good.” He settles into the seat beside me, then smiles. “If you want, I could use my divining rods to discover the sex of the baby.”
The reminder of our first meeting sends a wave of affection through me. God, that feels like it happened to an entirely different person. That scared little girl, surrounded by wolves, being told she’s not who she thinks she is? I can barely remember being her.
“No, but thank you,” I say, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I think I want it to be a surprise.”
Dare gets the meeting going with an update on the boundary patrol team’s findings. He’s really come into his role as alpha, particularly once the other men decided he was the perfect man to be in charge of the pack’s defenses.
“Our investigative team has found no remnants of the original coven left,” he says, reading from a small notebook that I can see is filled with his chicken scratch. “On our last visit to the coven’s old headquarters, we found most of the dead had been removed and belongings had been taken from living quarters inside. A team sent to Anatoly was also able to get intel that many of those witches who worked for Cleo have left the area.”
“And what of the boundaries?” Elder Patrice asks. She’s on the other side of Elder Jihoon—the two of them can often be found in each other’s company nowadays. Two very different people who clearly care for one another.
I’m glad she asked the question, because if the boundaries have been breached, it’s my job to fix the spells. I hold my breath, hoping for good news.
Dare smiles and nods at the elder. “Our boundaries are still intact. We also found evidence that bears aren’t even approaching our lands due to the magic. We have our own resident witch to thank for that.”
A murmur of pleasure goes through the room, and my cheeks flush hotly. It wasn’t all my doing. I had Gwen’s help, after all.
Dare relinquishes the head seat to Archer, who’s also carrying a notebook of his talking points. “We heard from Gwen this week with an update from the Mountain Coven. She’s taken in five new members in the past two weeks, to bring her new coven up to eleven witches. Every one of them were defectors from Cleo’s toxic coven. Gwen says their bond is already strong, and as a group, they recently voted to begin trading and allying with our pack. They’re planning a visit three weeks from now.”
“Oh good,” Patrice says, smiling at Jihoon. “I liked Gwen. I’ve been wondering if she’d ever return.”
I had to agree with the elder. I’ve been waiting for Gwen’s next visit since she left us months ago. It’s good news to hear she’s coming, and that she’s bringing friends. I can’t wait to be in the presence of other witches—ones who haven’t been warped by someone else’s vindictiveness and cruelty.
Ridge gives an update on village construction, and Trystan briefs us on outreach efforts in building ties with shifters outside of our lands. Then they open the floor for questions from other pack members.
As the meeting wraps up and people begin filtering from the building, I bump and nudge my way to Amora’s side. She’s standing near the door, her gaze noting every shifter who passes. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but she looks… sad.
Luckily, a pregnant woman walking through a crowd is a lot like Moses parting the Red Sea, so I reach her side before long and elbow her gently in the ribs.
“Hey. You coming for dinner Friday?” I ask. “I’m thinking steaks on the grill.”
Since she’s one of Ridge’s oldest friends, and since she and I have become close, she eats with us at least once a week. But recently, she’s seemed kind of
distant.
“That baby likes its rare meat,” Amora teases.
“You know it. Baby wolf in the making.” I rub my hand over my belly. “So… you’re coming, right?”
“I don’t think I can this time,” Amora says carefully, glancing over with an expression on her face that makes my brows pull together.
I blink, shaking my head as a prickle of worry passes through me. “Why not? What’s going on?”
She straightens and draws her shoulders back, some of the shadows in her expression clearing as certainty takes their place. “I’m leaving the pack lands.”
My jaw drops open. I’m so shocked that I can’t even think what to say. I cycle through a dozen responses, none of them good enough.
But we need you here.
You help run this pack.
You’re my best friend.
We love you.
Before I can settle on what to tell her, Amora goes on. “There’s something I have to do, and it means leaving you guys—at least for now. Trust me, I don’t want to, Sable. I want to be here for…” She trails off and places her palms on either side of my stomach, her forehead wrinkling as if she’s fighting off her emotions. Then she withdraws her hands and looks me in the eye. “I have to leave for a little while.”
Something niggles at my subconscious, a memory resurfacing. Mention of Gwen at the meeting is just fresh enough in my mind for me to put two and two together.
“Does this have something to do with what Gwen told you before she left us?” I ask.
Amora doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t need to. I can see the answer in her eyes.
That’s exactly what this is about.
She never told me what Gwen’s words were, and I never asked. I didn’t want to push her, and her silence made it obvious that she wasn’t ready to share it. But whatever the redheaded witch told her, it’s clearly stuck with her.
