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"We have time," she reminds me, but her smile tells me she's already considering possibilities.

That night, I hold her close as we drift toward sleep, my hand resting protectively over the slight curve of her stomach that's just becoming noticeable.

She fits against me perfectly, as if her body was designed to align with mine.

My wolf rumbles with contentment, finally at peace with its mate and offspring safely in our den.

"Nic?" Luna's voice is soft in the darkness.

"Hmm?"

"I don't want to wait anymore. For the mating ceremony."

I blink fully awake, propping myself up on one elbow to see her face in the moonlight filtering through the window. "Are you sure? There's no rush."

She turns to face me, her expression serious but certain. "I'm sure. We're already building a life together. I want it to be official—not just for the pack or the baby, but for us."

Something tightens in my chest—hope and happiness and disbelief that this extraordinary woman has chosen to forgive my past failures, to build a future with me.

"Then we'll talk to Victoria tomorrow," I say, brushing her hair back from her face. "Start the preparations."

She nods, then hesitates. "But I want some changes to the traditional ceremony. To incorporate both sides of our heritage. Both sides of our child's heritage."

"Whatever you want," I promise, meaning it completely. "This is our ceremony, our beginning. We make the rules."

Her smile in the darkness is worth every battle, every scar, every difficult choice that led us here.

One month after the Cheslem attack, Silvercreek has found a new normal.

The dead have been honored, the wounded have largely recovered, and the pack has settled into a cautious peace.

The boundary wards, strengthened by Luna's magic and my blood, pulse with steady energy that keeps corruption at bay. For now, at least.

Reports of strange occurrences still come in near the eastern valley. Thomas has organized a research expedition with representatives from three allied packs, scheduled to depart next week. Whatever malevolent force created the Cheslem corruption remains a threat, but a distant one for the moment.

In the meantime, life continues. Luna has become an integral part of pack leadership, her unique perspective valued rather than scorned.

The mating ceremony is planned for the next full moon, with modifications that honor both shifter tradition and her mother’s witch heritage.

Our quarters have become a true home, filled with books and plants and the subtle magic that accompanies Luna everywhere.

Tonight, I have a surprise for her. As twilight settles over Silvercreek, I lead her along a familiar path toward Shadow Creek, our fingers intertwined.

"Where are we going?" she asks, curious but trusting.

"You'll see."

The path winds through pine forest until the sound of rushing water reaches our ears. Luna's pace quickens slightly—this place holds memories for both of us, sweet and painful in equal measure. As we emerge from the trees into the small clearing beside the creek, I watch her face carefully.

Her eyes widen as she sees what waits there. Where once we met in secret, hidden by willows and moonlight, now stands a small cabin. Simple but sturdy, with a covered porch facing the water and windows that will catch the morning sun.

"What is this?" Luna asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"Ours," I answer simply. "Somewhere that's just for us, when we need space from pack business. A sanctuary."

I lead her up the steps, pushing open the unlocked door.

Inside is simple but comfortable—a main room with a stone fireplace, a small kitchen area, a bedroom visible through a partially open door.

Luna moves through the space slowly, trailing her fingers over surfaces, looking out windows at the creek that holds so much of our history.

"You built this for us?" She turns to me, eyes bright with emotion.

"With help," I admit. "James, Thomas, some of the others. We wanted it to be ready before the ceremony."

She completes a circuit of the main room, ending in front of me. "It's perfect."

"There's something else," I say, taking her hand and leading her to a small side room I've kept closed until now.

Soft light spills out when I open the door, illuminating a smaller space with a window overlooking the creek. Shelves line one wall, a comfortable chair sits in the corner, and a beautiful wooden table stands in the center—a nursery in progress, waiting for our child to complete it.

Luna's breath catches. She steps into the room, touching the smooth wood of the table, the soft fabric of the chair. When she turns back to me, tears shine on her cheeks.

"I thought we could get a crib together," I say, suddenly uncertain in the face of her emotion. "I didn't want to choose that part without you."

She crosses the room to me in two quick steps, rising on tiptoes to press her lips to mine.

The kiss deepens immediately, her body fitting against mine with familiar perfection.

Her scent —lavender and sage and that rich undertone of pregnancy—fills my senses, awakening hunger that never stays dormant for long where she's concerned.

When we finally break apart, both breathless, she takes my hand and begins leading me from the nursery, through the main room, toward the bedroom door.

"Luna?" I question, though my body has no confusion about where this is heading.

She looks back at me, her expression a mixture of tenderness and desire that makes my heart race.

"I think," she says softly, "that we should properly christen our new home, don't you?"

As she pulls me through the bedroom doorway, into a space that will hold countless nights of our future together, I send up silent gratitude to whatever fates or forces brought her back to Silvercreek. Back to me.

The door closes behind us, and the rest of the world falls away.