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Jaslyn’s just watching me, practically daring me to say something, anything. She’s shivering, dripping wet, and absolutely furious—and all I can think about is how gorgeous she looks. How alive. How much I want to wrap her in my arms and never let her go.

But what do I say to someone who just told me they love me? To someone who stormed back into danger not for herself, not for duty, but for me?

I run a hand through my wet hair, buying a few seconds as my wolf snarls at me to stop being a coward. My throat feels tight, and the words don’t come easily.

“I—” My voice falters, and I clear my throat, trying again. “Jaslyn, you don’t have to—”

“Don’t,” she snaps, cutting me off. “Don’t you dare tell me what I don’t have to do. Not after everything.”

Nearby, I can hear Theo and Isadora moving, their low voices just audible over the water lapping at the shore. They’re giving us space, though I know Theo is still on high alert. Good. He can deal with any surprise attacks while I try to fix the mess I’ve made of this conversation.

“You’re freezing,” I say, reaching for her, but she steps back, shaking her head.

“Stop deflecting, Gray. I want an answer.”

For a moment, I want to fight her. To argue, to push her away so she doesn’t see how much I need her. But I’m tired. Tired of lying to her. Tired of lying to myself.

“I’m not good at this,” I admit finally. “I don’t know how to say what I’m feeling. Hell, I don’t even know how to make sense of it half the time.”

“Then stop overthinking and just say it.”

The words are simple, but the challenge in her eyes hits me like a lightning strike. There’s no point in hiding anymore. Not from her.

“I love you.” The confession falls from my lips before I can stop it, and the weight of it makes my chest ache. “I love you, Jaslyn. I’ve been trying not to, but it doesn’t matter. You’re under my skin. You’re in every damn thought I have. And I know I’ve been a fool to push you away, but—”

“But what?” she presses. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Everything. I’m afraid of losing you. Of not being enough for you. Of ruining the only good thing I’ve ever had.”

“Gray, do you honestly think I don’t know what I’m getting into? You’ve been an ass, sure, but I’ve seen you. The real you. The one who would throw himself in front of a demon without a second thought. The one who would dive into a lake to save me, even when he’s terrified of letting someone get too close.”

I don’t respond right away. How can I? She’s right. I’ve spent so much time keeping people at arm’s length, trying to protect them from me. Or maybe it was the other way around.

“Gray, I stayed here because I see you,” she continues. “The you who feels like he has to carry everything on his shoulders, like he has to be perfect because the pack depends on him. But you don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be real.”

I close my eyes for a moment. She doesn’t know the half of it. She doesn’t know how long I’ve carried the weight of my parents’ deaths, the guilt that gnaws at me every time I look at the pack. The belief that if I falter, they’ll fall apart.

“When my mother died,” I say quietly, “it wasn’t in a fight. It wasn’t some noble, heroic sacrifice. It was an ambush. She was caught alone by hunters while she was out gathering supplies for the pack. I was twelve. She didn’t even make it back to say goodbye.”

Jaslyn sucks in a breath, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“And my father—” My voice breaks, and I shake my head, struggling to find the words. “My father was the strongest man I knew, but after my mother… something in him broke. He tried to keep going, for me, for the pack, but the weight of it was too much. He made mistakes. And one of those mistakes got him killed.” I swallow hard. “I was nineteen when I took over as alpha. I wasn’t ready, but I didn’t have a choice. Everyone was looking to me to fix things, to hold the pack together. And I tried. God, I tried. But I always felt like I was one wrong move away from losing everything.”

“Gray,” she whispers, “you can’t blame yourself for that.”

“Can’t I?” I let out a bitter laugh. “If I’d been stronger, smarter, maybe my father wouldn’t have felt like he had to shoulder everything alone. Maybe he’d still be here.”

“You were a kid. You did the best you could.”

“It wasn’t enough. And it’s why I’ve been so scared with you. Because if I let you in, if I love you the way I want to, and I lose you…” My voice breaks again, and I shake my head. “I don’t know if I’d survive that.”

Her hand slides up to cup my cheek, forcing me to meet her gaze. “You’ve already lost so much, Gray. Don’t lose this, too. Don’t lose us.”

I close my eyes, leaning into her touch, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The fear, the guilt, the weight of the past—it all takes a backseat to the woman standing in front of me, the woman who stayed for me despite everything.

“You’ve always had it easier,” she says softly, and I open my eyes, startled by her words. “The pack accepted you from the start. You were the future alpha, the golden boy. Me? I was the outcast. The one they whispered about behind my back, the one they only tolerated because I didn’t have a choice.”

“Jaslyn—”

“I don’t say that to make you feel guilty,” she interrupts. “I say it because I need you to understand something. You made me feel like I mattered, Gray. Like I wasn’t just a burden or a problem to be solved. You gave me a place to belong, even when I didn’t think I deserved one. I’ve spent my whole life fighting to prove I’m worth something. And with you, I don’t have to fight anymore. With you, I can just be me.”

Her words shatter something inside me, and the walls I’ve spent years building come crashing down. I reach for her, pulling her against me. She comes willingly, her arms wrapping around my neck.

“I love you,” she whispers. “And I’m not going anywhere, Gray. Not unless you tell me to.”

The finality in her words leaves me breathless. For the first time in years, the weight on my chest feels lighter, and I realize that maybe I don’t have to carry it alone anymore.

We barely make it back to the packhouse before the call comes in—a sharp knock on the door and Theo’s voice muffled on the other side.

“Alpha Gray, you and Jaslyn are needed in the main hall. Emergency meeting.”

Jaslyn glances at me, knitting her brows together. She’s still dripping from the lake with her hair plastered to her face. Her green eyes are wary. I know she’s waiting for me to say something, maybe to groan about another crisis or order her to sit this one out, but I can’t summon the energy to care about pack politics right now. Not when the memory of her almost drowning is still burned into my mind.

“I’ll be right there,” I say, my tone clipped.

Theo knows better than to argue. His footsteps fade down the hall, and Jaslyn crosses her arms, leaning back against the wall. “Are you really going to make me sit through one of these meetings right now?”

“I wish we didn’t have to,” I acknowledge.

Once we’re dried off and changed, she follows me to the main hall without another word. The room is already full when we arrive—alphas from neighboring packs, their betas, and the witches who’ve been assisting with the demon threat. The air hums with tension as voices overlap, some loud and accusatory, others quieter but no less intense. Everyone’s arguing, but no one’s solving anything.

Damien, alpha of Starfire Hollow, stands at the center of the room with his arms flailing in the air as he speaks. “We need to know how many of those things came through before the portal was closed. If even one slipped past us into the wider territory—”

“We’d know,” Alec, the East Hills alpha, interrupts. He leans against the back of his chair, scowling. “The energy they bring is impossible to miss. If there were more, our witches would’ve felt it.”

Jade, standing beside him with her hands clasped, shakes her head. “It’s not that simple. Closing the portal cut off their access, but it didn’t erase the magic already here. That lingering energy could mask any weaker demons that might’ve gotten through. We have to be vigilant.”

Isadora nods in agreement, her expression grim. “The pull from that portal was enormous. I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that something slipped past while we were focused on the big ones.”

The room buzzes with uneasy murmurs. Theo, standing to my left, leans in to whisper, “You’re going to let them talk us in circles all night?”

I glance at him, considering, but I’m too restless to focus. My eyes shift to Jaslyn, who’s standing beside me with her arms crossed. Her expression is calm, almost bored, but I can feel the tension radiating from her—the same tension I’ve carried since pulling her from the lake. She’s exhausted, but she’s here. She wouldn’t let herself be anywhere else.

Damien’s voice rises above the chatter, drawing my attention. “The question isn’t just whether more demons got through. It’s how to make sure they don’t come back.”

“Sealing the portal was the best we could do,” Jade responds. “But those rifts are like cracks in a dam. If the magic that created them is strong enough, it could reopen. Or create another somewhere else.”

“And what do we do then?” Damien demands. “We can’t keep reacting to this after the fact. We need a way to prevent it.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Isadora replies, her tone measured but firm. “The kind of magic needed to stabilize an area this size—”

“Would take more power than we have access to,” Jade finishes. “Even with every witch in the region working together, we wouldn’t be able to maintain it indefinitely.”

“So what’s the plan, then?” Alec asks, his gaze sweeping over the room. “Do we just wait for the next portal to open and hope we’re ready?”

The question hangs heavy in the air. No one wants to say it, but the answer is obvious: we don’t know. We can prepare. We can train. But the truth is, no one here can guarantee it won’t happen again.

Jaslyn speaks up, her voice cutting through the noise. “We don’t have to guarantee it won’t happen. We have to make sure we’re ready if it does.”

All eyes turn to her, and she steps forward, her shoulders squared despite the weariness in her movements. “We closed the portal tonight. That’s a win. But this isn’t over, and pretending we can control every possibility is a waste of time. We need to focus on what we can control—training, resources, communication between the packs. If another portal opens, we’ll face it. Together.”

Alec tilts his head, studying her. “Practical. I like it.”

Damien doesn’t look as convinced. “That’s easy to say now, while we’re all in one place. What happens when everyone goes back to their territories? Coordination isn’t exactly a strong suit between the packs.”

“We’ll make it one,” I interject, my voice sharper than I intend. “This isn’t a single-pack issue. We’ve all seen what happens when we’re not prepared for something like this. If we don’t stay unified, we’re as good as inviting another disaster.”

Damien’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he shifts his gaze to Theo. “What about your warriors? How quickly could they mobilize if another portal opened nearby?”

Theo straightens, his expression all business. “Quickly enough. We’ve already started refining our response times after the first attack. And with the witches’ help, we’ve learned how to contain demon energy more efficiently.”

The discussion continues, moving from strategies to logistics, and the restlessness in my chest only grows. They’re saying all the right things, making all the right plans, but it’s not enough. Not tonight.

“Gray,” Theo says quietly, leaning in again, “you good?”

“No,” I mutter, stepping back. I’ve heard enough. It’s not that I don’t care—I care too much—but every instinct in me is pulling me toward something else. Someone else.

I catch Jaslyn’s eye, and she arches a brow. “You’re usually the one lecturing people about responsibility,” she murmurs.

“Not tonight.” My voice is low, but there’s no mistaking the edge in it. “I’m done.”

I turn to the room, clearing my throat loud enough to draw their attention. “You’ve got this handled,” I say to Theo, ignoring the startled looks from the others. “Jaslyn and I are leaving.”

Before anyone can argue, I grab Jaslyn’s hand and lead her out of the room. She follows without protest, though I can feel her gaze burning into the side of my face.

Once we’re outside, she finally speaks. “Are you going to tell me what that was about?”

I stop, turning to face her. The moonlight catches in her eyes, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. “I just needed to get you out of there.”

“Why?”

“Because,” I say, stepping closer, “I want to get you alone.”

Her lips part in surprise, and I take another step, closing the distance between us. “Gray—”

“I want to show you how much I love you,” I interrupt. “And I can’t do that in a room full of people. Not with a thousand other things hanging over our heads. Just us.”

At that, she smiles. A soft, genuine smile that sends warmth flooding through my chest.

“Then what are we waiting for?” she whispers.