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The implication of the suitcase in Marty’s hand doesn’t land until she says, “That’s all, boys,” to Garrett and Jakob, then walks past Sascha and Avery. Petra immediately goes to her side, and they embrace tightly.

Sascha is too scared to make an assumption, even though the visual is clear, but Avery picks up what he’s unable to grasp.

He turns to Marty with a smile. “Welcome to our pack. I’m Avery, Sascha’s mate and co-alpha. What’s your name?”

Without hesitation, Marty smiles back. “You can call me Aunt Marty.”

Sascha’s brow furrows. “Aunt Marty, what are you doing? Dad won’t let you come back if you leave like this.”

She sniffs. “I refuse to follow an alpha who’d disown his own child over who he loves, so I need somewhere else to go. Conveniently, you’ll be needing someone to keep an eye on your nutritional intake, so I’m asserting my authority upfront.”

Avery, the traitor, laughs outright and doesn’t look a bit sorry, even when Sascha elbows him. “So you’re the one who makes him eat vegetables! Double welcome, then.”

“Let’s just go,” Sascha grumbles, flicking him in the ear, then doing it again when he only laughs louder.

Petra breaks away to call out to the twins, who haven’t moved despite being dismissed. “Jakob, remind Samuel not to forget our agreement. He doesn’t get to renege on account of an entirely unrelated decision.”

“I’ll mention it,” Jakob says. “Goodbye, Petra. And good luck.”

Scoffing, Petra turns on her heel. “We’ve got one more place to go before we can get out of here,” she informs the pack, reaching to link one arm with Marty’s and the other with Beryl’s. “And then, I think, things will get a lot easier for us.”

“I sure hope so,” Avery says with a smile. This time, when Avery tugs Sascha’s hand, it’s a signal to leave.

Sascha walks away from the Madison pack lands, leaving behind his name and history, along with any wistfulness for the future he was never going to see. He’s found—and fought for—the promise of a much better one.

“Petra, what the fuck.”

Sascha has heard Petra cackle more today than he has all his previous years under her care. She does so now, just as full-bellied as when they were on the boat and she was taunting them by denying them knowledge of their mate bond. “I told you Samuel promised to replace my car.”

“This isn’t a car,” Sascha says, as if she doesn’t know. “This is a goddamn motorhome.”

“If it drives, it’s a car. Anyway, how else do you propose we get nine people out of here?”

“Does anyone actually know how todriveone of these things?” Avery asks, sounding curious rather than exasperated, unlike Sascha.

Zuhr raises her hand. “I used to be a trucker, before…”

“Yeah,” Sascha says quickly because no one needs to think of Celeste, her abusive leadership, or the way her shattered skull leaked gore down her vacant features while she hung like a white flag of surrender. “Okay, fine. Zuhr can drive the… vehicle.”

Avery snickers.

Sascha ignores him, continuing: “I still want to know how you found it in the first place.”

Petra unlocks the door, then tosses the keys to Zuhr. “It’s a wild story, but not a long one. A man whose sister mated into the pack and brought him along, he had a human girlfriend. They got in a fight, and she shot him right through the leg. While he was in the clinic getting patched up, he started sniveling about how she was selling the motorhome they had planned to move in together after they got married. That’s what they were yelling about, apparently. Anyway, I went to see if it was still in her possession. Then I sent Samuel a gentle suggestion about the replacement car I’d like. He must be feeling guilty because even used this cost twice what a new car would have.”

“Oh my god,” Charlie says as he climbs into the obscenelylarge vehicle that is, Sascha is forced to acknowledge, their new temporary home. “This thing is a piece of shit.”

“Charlesh!” Zuhr snaps, rushing up the stairs after him.

“Even this will be cramped for nine people,” Avery murmurs, watching the other pack members filter inside.

Sascha sucks in a long, deep inhale, then squeezes the back of Avery’s neck, tugging at those long, bleached curls. “This is what we chose.”

“Yeah.” Avery knocks his hip into Sascha’s thigh. “It’s gonna be great.”

“Sharing a single tiny bathroom between nine people isnotgoing to be great.”

“Too late to change your mind now!” Then Avery smacks Sascha’s ass and takes off like a firecracker, attempting to climb into the motorhome only to collide with Beryl on their way out.