Page 23

SAbrINA

I woke to an unfamiliar silence, the world outside muffled by thick layers of snow. Stretching, my hand brushed against Logan’s bare chest, warm and solid beneath my fingertips.

The blizzard had raged through the night, battering the windows and piling snow against the doors. Now Angel Spring lay buried under a pristine white blanket, transformed into something ethereal.

Logan stirred beside me, his arm tightening around my waist with possessive instinct even before his eyes opened.

“Morning, sunshine,” he grumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning, grumpy,” I whispered, tracing the line of his jaw with my finger.

The rough stubble beneath my fingertip sent tiny shivers of awareness through me, a tactile reminder of the night we’d shared. His scent enveloped me, familiar now in a way that filled me with contentment.

“Sleep okay?” he asked.

I nodded against his chest, listening to the strong, steady thump of his heart. “Better than I have in years,” I admitted, surprising myself with the honesty.

Logan’s fingertips traced lazy patterns on my bare shoulder, circling his mark, making my skin burn with his touch. Outside, the world was frozen in stillness, but here, in the cocoon of his arms, I felt nothing but belonging.

His answering hum rumbled half a growl as he pulled me closer, lips brushing my temple. The simple gesture sent warmth flooding through me, different from the blazing heat of passion the night before. This was comfort, connection, belonging.

We navigated the mansion in comfortable silence, sharing space as if we’d been doing it for years. Logan started the coffee while I rebuilt the fire, adding logs and kindling until flames licked upward. The bubbling sound of brewing coffee mingled with crackling wood.

I watched Logan move through the kitchen, his tall frame relaxed in a way I was still learning to cherish. Gone was the rigid tension that had defined him when I’d first arrived in Angel Spring. In its place was something looser, more natural. He was a wolf at ease in his territory.

He set a plate of eggs and toast in front of me. The domesticity made my heart squeeze. Then he slid a rolled-up blueprint across the table, his eyes suddenly intent on my face.

“What’s this?” I asked around a bite of toast.

“For the medical center,” he said, tone casual, but a muscle ticked in his jaw, revealing his nervousness. “It’s state-of-the-art. Solar panels, even a greenhouse for your medicinal plants.”

I unrolled the thick paper, securing the corners with my coffee mug and plate.

My breath caught as I took in the detailed architectural plans.

The sketch detailed a two-story building with clean modern lines, examination rooms, specialized treatment areas, a laboratory, a greenhouse, and even patient recovery suites.

“Logan…”

“Figured you’d want to design it yourself,” he said gruffly. Pride lurked beneath his attempt at nonchalance. “The foundation work can start as soon as the snow clears.”

My fingers traced the precision-drawn lines, taking in details that showed how much thought he’d already put into this. Tears pricked behind my eyes.

“You would build this for me?”

My voice broke, emotion making it impossible to say more.

The blueprints showed more than just a building.

They showed that Logan had been listening to every casual comment I’d made, every wish I’d expressed.

The greenhouse was positioned to catch the morning light, just as I’d mentioned once in passing.

The recovery rooms with large windows facing the mountains, another preference I’d shared one night without thinking he’d remember.

“I won’t just build it,” Logan said, his voice low and intimate. “I designed it for the way you work, the way you move. Watched how you handled patients, what frustrated you about the old clinic setup.”

Ideas flowed faster than I could articulate them, my finger tracing potential modifications. “We can add a pharmacy space here,” I said, pointing to a section of the blueprint. “We’ll need specialized medications for shifters.”

Logan watched me, arms crossed, a small but genuine smile playing at his lips. “It’s your canvas, Doc. Whatever you want.”

I stood, rounding the table to kiss him. My hands framed his face, thumbs stroking his stubbled cheeks as our lips met.

“You named it after me,” I whispered against his mouth, having noticed the bold lettering at the top of the plans: The Sabrina Wu Medical Center .

He pulled me onto his lap, strong hands warm against my back. “It’s your legacy,” he murmured. “Your chance to heal this town the way you healed me.”

With the roads buried under feet of snow, we spent the rest of the day at home. As night fell, we were curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace when Logan checked his phone.

“Tanner’s flight had to divert south,” he said, setting the device aside. “The blizzard’s grounded all incoming flights for at least three days.”

I set down my tea, considering the implications. “Good,” I said finally. When he sees what we’ve built here, he’ll know this town isn’t just surviving. It’s thriving."

As the clock ticked toward midnight, peace settled over me. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. We still had negotiations with Tanner, the continuing recovery of the town’s sick, and the long process of environmental remediation. But with Logan by my side, I was ready for whatever came next.

I closed my eyes, his heartbeat steady under my ear. For now, everything was perfect. It was just us, the fire, and the promise of a future neither of us had imagined possible weeks ago.

Logan’s breathing deepened, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that lulled me toward sleep.

His body radiated heat like a furnace, warming me from the outside in as our bond warmed me from the inside out.

My last conscious thought before sleep claimed me was how perfectly we fit together, not just physically, but in all the ways that mattered.

Two lone wolves who had found their pack in each other.

As sleep claimed us both, I dreamed not of buildings or equipment, but of the lives we would touch.

Children who had been pale with illness running through town with rosy cheeks and bright laughter.

Elderly shifters regaining their strength, standing tall once more.

Miners and farmers receiving care they never could afford before, their relieved faces as I told them, “No charge.” Pregnant mothers safely delivering their babies without traveling hours away to the nearest city.

The whole town, thriving and healthy, gathering at community health workshops.

The billionaire’s gift wasn’t just steel and concrete. It was Logan’s way of showing he believed in my vision of healing this community that had become our home.