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My throat tightens, and I blink fast, but more tears come anyway.

“Hey there! Casey? Are you okay?” Penny asks, her expression going from welcoming to concerned in the span of a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, brushing at my cheeks. “I just. I’ve never expected all of you.”

“What? You mean no one’s ever wrangled a posse to take out the fuckers hunting you down before?” Arliss asks, and for some reason, the pretty woman is grinning.

“No worries, Cas. That’s old hat here,” Jezebel says, a wide grin on her face as Emmet nuzzles her neck.

Avery steps forward first and wraps me in a hug.

“We’ve all had our trials, honey,” she assures me. “But let me be the first to say welcome to the Crew, Casey!”

Penny joins her. Then Jez. Then Arliss.

Suddenly I’m surrounded, enveloped in the soft scent of sugar cookies and good intentions.

“I know I’m not one of you,” I whisper, “not really. But I’ll keep your secrets. I swear. Because you’re important to Zeke. And he’s,” I begin and look toward him, my heart doing that fluttery, ridiculous thing it always does around him. “He’s important to me.”

“You’re already one of us,” Jez says firmly, dabbing at her eyes.

“Yeah,” Arliss sniffles. “You just made it official.”

“I—I want that,” I admit. “I want to belong here. To belong with all of you. If you’ll have me.”

Max stands then, tall and commanding, but there’s a smile tugging at his scarred face as he walks over and claps a hand on Zeke’s shoulder.

“There’s nowhere else you belong,” Max says. “You and Zeke. You're both part of the Crew. And we protect our own.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, and I mean it so damn much.

“Now, how about you both sit down and tell us what we’re up against,” Max commands.

Zeke’s jaw clenches, and his eyes gleam with emotion as he pulls me into his arms, tucking me close like I’m the most precious thing in his world.

And maybe to him, well, maybe I am.

“Okay, I’ll start at the beginning.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE-ZEKE

The room goes quiet.

Not the awkward kind.

This is a silence born of respect.

Of protection.

Of the unspoken promise that every person sitting here will go to war for the woman currently pouring her soul out in the center of Max's living room.

Casey.

My mate.

She's sitting on the edge of the big armchair Penny insisted she take, hands clasped tight in her lap, knuckles white.

But her voice doesn't shake. Not once.