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After I broke my neck, my life changed, maybe not in the dramatic way people might expect, but it was still a turning point. I had to learn to navigate the world differently, both physically and mentally.

During those long months of recovery, I had to let go of parts of myself I had always before counted on to carry me through. The driven competitor, singularly focused on the next win. The proud alpha, determined to provide and protect. The stubborn man, resistant to showing any weakness.

Lying in that hospital bed, I was forced to be still.

To accept help. To let others see me at my lowest point.

It was humbling and terrifying, especially in the beginning.

Thorne, my inner bear, had gone dead silent after the accident.

For months. My whole life, I’d always felt him just under the surface—grumbling, pacing, protective.

But when I was laid up in a hospital bed, tubes in my arm and pain meds dulling my instincts, he’d retreated.

I thought I’d lost him, too. It wasn’t until one night, somewhere between physical therapy hell and my fifth meltdown, that he came back.

Get up, he’d growled . You’re not dead. You're just pissed about the detour.

It was a transformative moment; too bad it came a couple of months too late.

By then, I had lost the most important thing to me, and stubbornly, I refused to ask for her forgiveness.

I did not want to cripple her life with well, a cripple.

Instead, I walked away, vowing to refocus my life and find a new purpose, a way to channel my energy and ambition into something meaningful.

A purpose I found, years later, in Cedar Hollow.

Today, as I walked through the bustling construction site, filled with pride, I couldn’t help but smile at the progress we'd made.

The community center was nearly complete, its large windows reflecting the surrounding forest. Homes in various stages of construction dotted the landscape, each one designed to blend seamlessly with the natural environment.

I paused to chat with a few of the workers, their laughter and easy camaraderie a testament to the inclusive atmosphere we'd cultivated. This was more than just a housing development; it was a safe haven for those who often felt like outsiders in the human world.

My phone buzzed, and I glanced down to see a message from Carol.

Carol

Don't forget, big meeting at 2 pm. Wear that blue button-down I got you for Christmas. It brings out your eyes.

Me: Yes, Mother!

I chuckled, shaking my head at her not-so-subtle style advice. Carol was my best friend, my rock through everything, always ready with a sarcastic quip or a shoulder to lean on. She saved my life. I don't know what I would've done without her friendship.

Unfortunately, I had to drive into the city for this meeting, something I avoided like the plague.

Moodily, I made my way to the office trailer that served as our temporary headquarters to grab my keys.

I couldn't shake the feeling that Carol was up to something. Her idea to open a top-notch restaurant in Cedar Hollow was a good one, but she was being unusually insistent about it. She’d even taken me to a place called Salt her irreverent humor had been a welcome respite from the pitying looks and awkward silences I'd grown accustomed to. She never treated me differently, never acted like I was broken or fragile. To her, I was still just Patrick, her goofy, overprotective best friend. Even Thorne looked forward to her visits—though he’d never admit it. She brought donuts and didn’t flinch when he snarled through me.

That earned her permanent honorary pack status in his eyes.

The drive into the city was always a bit jarring, the dense trees giving way to towering skyscrapers and congested streets.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, feeling out of place amidst the chaos.

Give me the tranquility of the forest any day.

Thorne growled low in my chest. Too many walls.

Too much noise. No escape routes. This place is a trap.

For some reason, that made me think of my dead football career and my brother Gabe.

Both of our dreams had been that one day we would be the Football Brothers.

Two brothers making it into the big league, getting rich by doing what we loved, and chasing women.

Well, at least the dream came true for one of us.

I didn’t know how many times I had bemoaned the loss of my football career over the years. Too many to count. How many years had I wasted, not begrudging Gabe’s football career, but feeling envious of it? Envious of the dream that died after that fateful game.

But today, driving into the city and realizing that cities like this would have been my future, not wild rivers, forests, and mountains, it struck me differently.

I slowed the truck to take in the cement jungle spread out ahead of me and, for the first time, really thought about it.

Really considered how I would have never known the joy of walking or running down an overgrown path, or waking up in the morning to the smell of cedars and rain instead of smog.

I probably wouldn’t have known what I was missing, but now, knowing the choices, I realized that I didn’t want Gabe’s life anymore.

I liked mine. I liked building something different, being out in nature.

I pulled up inside a dreary parking garage, drove up all the way to the top floor to find a spot, and gave thanks that I was the lucky one.

The meeting Carol had set up with Chef E was set to start in ten minutes.

I took the elevator down the parking garage and walked the two blocks to the bistro where we’d agreed to meet.

I had no idea why Carol was being this cryptic about the whole thing.

Chef E ? Had this not been Carol, I would have wondered if I was being set up for a kidnapping.

I didn’t have a physical description; I didn’t even know if Chef E was a man or a woman.

I scanned over the large crowd inside the bistro, having no clue what or who I was looking for, when a set of wild blond curls caught my attention and set my heart into jackhammer mode.

I hadn’t seen Ella in ten years, but this was unmistakably her.

She didn’t look like she had changed one bit.

My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sight of her.

Ella was just as beautiful as I remembered; her wild, untamable, golden curls framed her delicate face, falling over green eyes that sparkled with the same fierce intelligence and determination that had first drawn me to her all those years ago.

She was dressed smartly in a white blouse, keeping just the right balance between business and sexy.

She was busy, scrunching up her nose while scrutinizing her phone as if it were giving her a state exam.

I stood ramrod still. She hadn’t noticed me yet, giving me a chance to fully take her in.

To fully experience the pain of losing her all over again.

Years ago, when I pushed her out of my life, I hadn’t realized how bad it would hurt.

For a few months, it had been okay. My mind had refused to acknowledge that she was really gone.

But when it finally did, it had hit me with an intensity that had robbed me of my breath. Kind of like right now.

Ah, hell no! I told you it was a trap. Abort, abort, abort! Thorne reared inside me so hard, I nearly lost my footing.

As if sensing my gaze, she turned. Our eyes locked across the crowded bistro.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still, and the noise of the restaurant faded away until it was just the two of us.

I saw the flicker of surprise in her expression, followed by a myriad of emotions I couldn't quite decipher, followed by one lone escaping tear.

Impatiently and with an annoyed huff, she wiped it away.

She got up so abruptly, the chair scraped across the floor, but she didn’t even notice it. Her hand flew to her chest like she was trying to keep her heart inside. Her head shook slightly from left to right as if in denial of who she was seeing. She looked ready to flee.

That realization got me into motion. I strode forward, ignoring the slight limp that was now a permanent part of my life, to stop her from running away.

“Ella,” I said when I was close enough to box her in.