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It was mostly green with some brown that made it look like the forest, like the trunks and leaves of the trees.

Then right there near the feet of the woods was a gray body of a wolf standing there, his head tilted up in a howl at the moon I’d placed further up by the corner.

“Baby…” he said, gaze slipping up from the blanket, a smile spreading across his face.

“I know it’s a little rough. I have a lot to learn. But, I…”

“Nope. Stop. It’s fucking perfect,” he told me, coming closer, reaching for my face with both hands, and pulling me in for a kiss.

Long, deep.

Then we climbed in under the quilt in the cabin that I’d driven to like a last hope.

And what did I find?

Everything.

I found myself, my roots, my future, Way.

I found everything.

Things I hadn’t even known I’d been searching for.

I wouldn’t pretend to know what the future held. What I would do for work. What it would be like to get through the winter in the cabin, to start working the land in the spring, to connect with Way’s pack and find my place within it.

But I did know that I had Way.

A connection deeper than soul-level.

I had a love that couldn’t die.

Everything else, well, it would fall into place.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Waylon - 2 months

I knew the pack would be a bit intense at first, each of them having that marrow-deep urge to find their own, and wanting to know what was it about Maribelle that made her my True Mate.

The problem was, it wasn’t that Maribelle had something about her intrinsically that made her mine. She was just… the right person. And she finally stumbled upon me.

I had faith that the others would find their mates. In due time. When it was right.

Until then, everyone seemed to be enjoying having her around, a little softness, someone who made soup when someone was under the weather, made them each a quilt for Christmas based on their favorite colors and interests.

“You know how fucking lucky you are, I hope,” Elden said as we sat by the lake, watching Maribelle cuddled up next to a mid-afternoon fire under four blankets, scribbling at the notepad she’d been working endlessly on for several weeks.

Working on her own version of one of those spicy paranormal romances she liked to read. Because, “I have a lot of personal experience on the topic now.”

She’d finally quit her job about a month before, knowing she wouldn’t need to have her soul sucked endlessly because the pack worked as a collective. We pooled and separated the money. She had no more financial concerns.

Free to do anything she wanted to do, what did she do?

She read.

She wrote.

She made quilts.

She hung with the pack.

And she loved me.

Elden’s gaze was intense as he looked at my woman.

As the alpha, I understood that his drive was probably even stronger than the rest of us. He needed his mate, his children, his legacy.

“I do,” I agreed, watching Maribelle as something she wrote in her notebook made her giggle. “You’ll find yours. I’m quite a bit older than you, remember,” I added, clamping him on the shoulder as I got to my feet.

“Fuck, hope I don’t have to be an old bastard before I find mine,” he shot back as I was walking over toward my woman.

“Making me look good, I hope?” I asked, scooting in behind her.

“Oh, didn’t you know? I’m writing about hot horned demons,” she said, laughing when I tugged her hair.

“How’s it going?”

“Amazing. I mean, I’ve always known I liked getting lost in books. I guess I just never realized I could enjoy writing them until I tried. Have I mentioned how glad I am that I came back here?” she asked, leaning into me, turning her face into my neck.

“Not in the past, say, hour or so.”

“Well, I am so glad I came back here. Because I found not only myself and my passion for writing, but you, and our future.”

“Never been so fucking thankful you came back, baby.”

“I think it’s been an hour or so since I told you I loved you too.”

“Well, that can’t stand.”

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you back,” I told her, giving her body a squeeze as I pressed a kiss to her head. “For-fucking-ever,” I added, reaching for the ring I’d picked up a week or so back once the special order came in, then slipping it onto her finger.

Then there it was.

A simple band with a moonstone in the center. Not traditional, but with meaning for us.

“Yes,” she said, turning to look up at me. “A million times yes.”


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Tags: Jessica Gadziala Paranormal