Page 21 of Ethan (Pecan Pines #7)

Dean

“I’ll call Cooper,” Griffin offered.

I didn’t envy him. Our alpha would want answers and fast. But I was glad Griffin volunteered. I didn’t have it in me to relive everything out loud just yet.

By the time we reached the clinic, dawn was breaking. I helped Ethan ease Micah inside while Griffin carried Maurice over the threshold.

The air inside the clinic was crisp, smelling of herbs and clean linens, familiar and calming. Ethan moved into motion the second we were through the door.

Whatever fear he’d carried in the woods melted away, replaced by quiet efficiency and that same focused calm that always showed up when someone was hurting.

“Put Maurice on the cot,” Ethan murmured to Griffin, already reaching for supplies. “Micah, here. Shift if you can, bud.”

Micah looked up at him with tired eyes but did as asked. A moment later, a pale boy stood where the wolf had been, shaky and still wearing bruises on his ribs.

Ethan wrapped him in a blanket without a word and guided him toward the second cot.

I leaned against the wall, watching as Ethan worked. My shoulder throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and I was pretty sure I had at least two cracked ribs, but I didn’t move.

I just needed a minute.

Griffin stepped over, quiet as ever. “I’ll stay with Maurice and Micah.”

“You good?” I asked.

He nodded. “Cooper’s on his way. Said to tell you thank you. And to not bleed all over the floor.”

I snorted softly, which made my ribs scream in protest. “I’ll try.”

Griffin gave me a brief nod and turned back toward the cots.

Ethan approached me then, a first aid kit in his arms. He gave me a look that was way too assessing for my taste. “Sit.”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically.

“You’re not.”

“I’ve had worse,” I said.

Ethan arched a brow. “And that means I should ignore this?”

“No,” I muttered. “Just… don’t fuss.”

“I never fuss,” he said, deadpan, guiding me gently toward the padded exam table anyway.

I grumbled under my breath but sat. He pulled on gloves and grabbed a bottle of saline and a stack of gauze. “Shirt off.”

“You could say please,” I said.

He leveled me with a look. “Dean.”

“Fine, fine,” I muttered.

Peeling the shirt off hurt like hell. The blood had dried, sticking the fabric to the gash on my shoulder, and I hissed as it came free.

Ethan winced, but said nothing, just stepped closer and started cleaning the wound.

His touch was firm but careful. Clinical. Still, I caught the flicker of emotion behind his eyes when I flinched. The silence stretched as he worked.

I watched the curve of his brow, the set of his jaw. The little crease that always showed up when he was concentrating. I wanted to reach out, to touch his wrist or rest my hand on his knee, but I didn’t.

Not yet.

Ethan pressed a fresh bandage to my shoulder, then wrapped it tightly. “Hold still.”

When he was done with the shoulder, he crouched beside me to check the slash across my ribs. His fingers brushed my side, gentle even through the gloves.

“I think one’s cracked,” he said quietly.

“I’ve had worse.”

Ethan gave me a look, something between exasperation and fondness. “You keep saying that like it’s a badge of honor.”

“It’s survival,” I said simply. “Back in Thornebane?—”

I faltered because I was no longer in Thornebane. I thought of myself as a Pecan Pines wolf these days.

Ethan kept working. He cleaned the wound, then grabbed a rib wrap and stood behind me to help secure it. His arms circled me, just briefly, as he pulled the band tight.

For a second, his chest was warm against my back, and I closed my eyes, letting myself lean into it.

“You should know by now that it’s not like that here,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to keep proving you’re okay when you’re not.”

I opened my eyes, staring at the floor. “Old habits.”

“You’ve got new people now,” he pointed out.

I didn’t say anything for a moment. Just let the weight of that settle between us. Warm and steady.

“You scared me,” I admitted. “When I realized you’d gone after Maurice and Micah alone.”

His expression softened. “You scared me too.”

“I can’t lose you,” I said before I could stop myself. “Not before I even get to have you as my mate.”

Ethan blinked, lips parting.

“I mean it,” I said. “I need to know you’re not gonna throw yourself into danger without backup again.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” he said. “I just knew they needed help. I couldn’t sit by and do nothing.”

“I know,” I said softly, cupping his face. “You always do the right thing, even if it drives me crazy.”

His throat worked, like he was holding back something, and for a moment I thought he might protest.

Then he leaned in, slow and careful, and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth. Not a full kiss. Just enough to make my chest tighten and my lungs forget how to work.

“Get some rest,” he whispered.

I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Stay with me?”

He nodded. “I will.”

By the time Cooper arrived, most of the blood had been scrubbed off the floor and Ethan had bullied me into drinking half a protein shake and lying on one of the clinic’s cots.

He sat beside me, still in healer mode, though the worry in his eyes had dulled now that everyone was safe.

Griffin met our alpha at the door with his usual calm efficiency, filling him in on the broad strokes of what happened at Maurice’s cabin.

Cooper took it all in, face carved from stone, his jaw ticking with barely contained anger. Not at us, I knew. But at the situation. At what could’ve gone wrong.

He stepped into the room, the scent of pine and power rolling off him in waves. Everyone in the room straightened up instinctively, even Ethan.

Cooper’s sharp gaze scanned each of us. Griffin standing at attention, Maurice resting on a cot with a light blanket pulled over him, Micah sitting nearby, bandaged and pale but alert. Then his eyes landed on me.

“Dean,” Cooper began.

“Alpha,” I said, shifting upright despite the ache in my side.

He frowned at the movement but didn’t comment.

Instead, his gaze flicked to Ethan. “And you.”

Ethan blinked. “Yes?”

Cooper crossed his arms. “You want to tell me why I got a call at dawn saying my healer wandered into the woods alone after two missing wolves without backup?”

Ethan winced. “I didn’t exactly wander…”

“No backup,” Cooper repeated. “You took off without alerting a single soul.”

“I told Cathy. And I left a text message and a few missed calls,” Ethan mumbled.

“You left a text?” Cooper’s tone was flat. “What are you, sixteen?”

Ethan flushed hard, the pink blooming all the way to his ears. “I just wanted to make sure Maurice and Micah were okay.”

“You’re not an enforcer, Ethan. You don’t chase leads into the woods alone.” Cooper’s voice had dropped, calm but steely. “You’re one of the only two healers in this pack. You don’t get to be reckless.”

Ethan ducked his head. “I already got a lecture,” he muttered.

Cooper arched a brow. “From who?”

Ethan jerked a thumb toward me. “My mate.”

There was a beat of stunned silence.

I froze. Ethan seemed to realize what he’d said a second too late, because his eyes widened slightly, like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Like it’d slipped out before he could stop it.

I smiled before I could stop myself. Something warm and smug bloomed in my chest.

Mate.

Cooper turned to me slowly, one brow still raised. “Your mate, huh?”

I didn’t back down. “Yeah. Mine,” I said, puffing my chest.

Ethan groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god.”

I leaned back against the pillow with a low hum of satisfaction. “Didn’t say it first, for the record.”

Ethan threw a gauze packet at me.

Cooper chuckled once, the sound brief but genuine, before the weight of the moment returned to his face. He turned to the rest of us and scanned the room again, more thoughtfully this time.

His voice shifted, low and steady. “You all did good. You brought everyone back. No fatalities. No infections. Minimal injuries. That’s the outcome we hope for when things go sideways.”

Maurice nodded weakly from his cot. “Could’ve been worse.”

“Yeah,” Cooper agreed. “It could’ve. That wild wolf could’ve killed Micah. Could’ve taken down Ethan before backup arrived. But none of that happened. Because Griffin and Dean got there in time.”

I sat up a little straighter.

Cooper met my eyes. “You tracked them. Took down a feral wolf. Got everyone out alive. That’s the job of an enforcer, Dean. Not a trainee.”

My heart thudded once, hard.

“You’ve earned your place,” Cooper said. “Effective immediately, you’re no longer in training. You’re an enforcer of the Pecan Pines pack.”

The room was quiet for a beat, and then Griffin clapped me on the shoulder, surprisingly gentle for a guy who once wrestled a black bear out of a dumpster.

“About time,” he said with a nod.

Micah grinned and gave me a thumbs up. I swallowed hard. My chest felt too big for my ribs, like the weight of those words had filled me up to the brim.

Enforcer.

I’d wanted that title more than I’d let on. Not because I cared about rank or recognition, but because it meant something here. It meant I’d earned trust. Respect. A place. A home.

“Thank you, Alpha,” I said, voice rougher than I meant it to be.

Cooper nodded. “You earned it.”

Then he looked to Ethan again, not unkindly. “You’re lucky Dean got there when he did.”

“I know,” Ethan murmured.

“And you’re lucky your mate didn’t decide to drag you back to the clinic by the scruff,” Cooper pointed out.

Ethan gave him a look. “Don’t give him ideas.”

“I don’t need ideas,” I said, smirking. “I have instincts.”

Ethan rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath about bossy wolves. Cooper gave us a brief smile, then turned more serious as he addressed the room again.

“This situation reminded me just how important each of you is to this pack. We don’t leave people behind.

We don’t send anyone into danger alone. From now on, I want a tighter communication net.

If someone goes missing, it gets reported.

If someone heads into the woods, they check in. Clear?” Cooper demanded.

Everyone nodded. He let out a slow breath. “Good. We’ll talk more at the evening meeting. But for now, rest. Heal. You did right today.”

He gave me a final nod, one full of quiet approval, then stepped out, Griffin following in his wake. The room settled into silence again.

Ethan sat back down beside me, picking at the cuff of his sleeve. “So. Mate, huh.”

I looked over at him. “That wasn’t a slip?”

His cheeks were still pink. “I meant it.”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I don’t… throw that word around.”

“Neither do I,” I lied. After this, I was going to brag to anyone who would listen that Ethan finally acknowledged me as his mate.

He glanced over, eyes warm. “So we’re good?”

I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his. “We’re good.”

He leaned into me, shoulder brushing mine. “Also, I’m still technically your superior when you’re injured, so don’t even think about walking around like a smug bastard.”

I kissed his temple. “Too late. I’m your smug bastard now.”

Ethan groaned again but didn’t pull away.