Page 26 of Nick (The Moonstone Pack #4)

NICK GLANCED AROUND THE Sunburst Mesa. Now all that mattered was finding Sarah and Javi.

Sarah emerged from behind the massive rock where Karla had disappeared. Her dark hair blew wild in the wind. But it wasn’t just her presence that commanded his attention—it was the sight of her hand firmly clasping Javi’s.

“Javi!” Nick’s voice bounced off the rocks.

Sarah glanced up, meeting Nick’s gaze. She was covered in blood, a chilling crimson stain splattered across her clothes.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

The betrayal that had once poisoned his bond with Sarah dissolved in the face of the undeniable truth—she had saved their son.

Nick’s legs propelled him across the rocky terrain.

“Are you both okay?” he called out, voice edged with the remnants of fear, even as relief flooded through him.

Sarah’s weary nod was all he needed. He reached them, dropping to his knees to envelop Javi in his arms. His hands roamed over Javi, searching for injuries but finding none.

“I’m okay,” Sarah said. “No new injuries, anyway.”

“Thank goodness,” Nick murmured.

With a gentle motion, he lifted Javi into his arms. Javi’s arms wrapped around Nick’s neck with a trust and affection that tightened something deep within Nick’s chest.

“Gotcha, buddy,” Nick whispered, pressing his lips to Javi’s hair.

Sarah’s voice broke through the silence. “Karla won’t hurt anyone again. I made sure of it.”

“Mama fought the mean lady,” Javi piped up, his small voice filled with a mix of awe and gravity. “She saved me.”

“Your mama is very brave,” Nick said, his voice steady despite the swell of emotions threatening to break through his composure. “Just like you.”

“Mama’s really strong too,” Javi murmured, his voice muffled against Nick’s shoulder.

“Strongest person I know,” Nick agreed, his words for both his son and the woman before him.

Sarah took a tentative step forward, her hand reaching out. Nick reached back with his free hand, tangling his fingers with hers, pulling her closer.

The distance between them vanished in an instant, and as he held Javi with one arm, Nick wrapped his other around Sarah, drawing her into his embrace.

She fit against him perfectly, the missing piece he’d been longing for.

His lips found hers in a long kiss.

Nick tasted victory on Sarah’s lips, sweet and heady. Finally, he pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against Sarah’s, and whispered, “We did it.”

Javi giggled softly between them. Nick felt his heart swell, knowing that this, right here, was what true strength looked like.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

Then Sarah winced in pain.

“I thought you said you weren’t hurt.”

“Nothing new. Oh. But I still hurt from earlier,” she gasped.

His gaze swept over her, taking in the bruises and cuts that marred her skin.

“We do have to get Javi home,” Sarah said.

Nick knew Sarah’s concern for Javier eclipsed even her own pain, a maternal instinct as fierce as any protective drive he felt. “We’ll get you cleaned up too.”

Sarah nodded, relief shining in her gaze.

“Quickly,” she urged, a shiver passing through her frame.

He paused long enough to take Percy’s keys from Vincent’s pocket. “No one else will be needing these,” he said. “I think the cars belong to the pack now.”

“I think they’re yours, if you want them,” Sarah said. “And you can be the new alpha too—if you want to be.”

“God, no,” he said. “I hate politics. Let’s leave that to someone else.”

“As long as it’s someone good,” Sarah said. Then she gasped again, clutching her side in pain.

He didn’t waste another moment before steering them back down toward the car.

In the gravel parking lot, Bronx materialized from the shadows like a specter. He handed over a small bottle of pain meds without a word, his deep-set eyes meeting Nick’s for just a moment. Then he disappeared again.

Back at Sarah’s trailer, Nick carried Javi as he guided Sarah inside. Her steps faltered, her strength waning.

Inside, he handed Javi over to Una. “Could you get him to bed?”

Una held the boy close. “Of course.” She disappeared down the hallway, murmuring to the child as he began telling her about the battle.

“Take these,” Nick instructed Sarah quietly, pressing the bottle of painkillers into her hand. The pills would dull the pain, at least temporarily, until her shifter healing could do the rest.

Sarah hesitated, a flicker of resistance in her expressive brown eyes before she relented, tipping two pills into her palm and swallowing them dry. She winced, and Nick felt the echo of her pain like a phantom ache in his own chest.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, a gesture meant to steady rather than confine, and led her to the bathroom, where he turned the shower on, waiting for the water to heat up before he urged her into the space.

She stood under the spray, shoulders hunched, the water tracing rivulets down her bruised and broken skin. She glanced at him through the mist, a flicker of a spark lighting her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas, Reagan,” she teased, a shadow of a smile flirting with her lips. “I’m not up for shower sex.”

“Wasn’t thinking it,” Nick lied, stepping into the heat of the water.

He reached for the soap, his movements deliberate, avoiding the more tender areas marred by dark purples and reds. Gently, he ran a cloth along her arm, the muscles beneath flinching at the contact.

“Sorry,” he muttered each time she tensed, feeling the sting as if it was his own flesh.

“Stop apologizing,” she said. “It’s not your fault.”

But it was. Every bruise was a word unspoken, every cut a path he hadn’t taken. He trailed his fingers with care, cleaning away blood and grime, wishing he could do the same for the past.

“Does that hurt?” The steady drumming of the water almost drowned out his voice.

“Less than losing you did,” she said, her voice cracking with truth that neither of them could escape.

Nick’s hands stilled, her admission touching something deep inside him. And as they stood there, the water washing away layers of pain and regret, Nick understood that no matter how far they had strayed, their paths were forever intertwined.

In her room, Sarah moved gingerly through the dim light, her steps cautious and laden with pain.

“Easy,” he murmured, his voice carrying all the protective ferocity of his wolf. His hands hovered at her back, ready to support her. She eased onto the mattress, the simple act a battle against the cuts and bruises.

“Thank you,” she whispered, the words wrapped in the exhaustion that seemed to sink into her bones. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Nick remained standing, his body coiled tight.

As if she felt his stare, Sarah’s eyes opened once more. “Nick,” she began, her voice barely above a breath, “I need you to know—I love you.”

He froze in place.

“I never stopped,” she continued, her words trailing off as her eyes drifted shut again and her breathing slowed.

Something fierce and tender unfurled within him, an acknowledgment of the bond that no betrayal, no distance could sever. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand finding hers beneath the covers. Their fingers intertwined.

“Rest now,” he said, his voice a growl softened by the depth of his own emotion. “I’ve got you.”

“Nick…” She grasped his hand tighter.

“Shh, you need to rest,” he murmured.

“No. I have to tell you…” Sarah’s voice was strained and urgent. “Back then… I couldn’t let you be tortured because of me.”

The words hit Nick like a claw swipe across his gut.

His jaw clenched as images of that dark time surged in his mind—the suspicion, the betrayal, the raw fear.

He’d been a breath away from torture at Vincent’s hands—a cruel game for the alpha’s twisted satisfaction—and he’d never known it.

“You did what you thought you had to do.”

“And Vincent would have destroyed Javi too—I couldn’t let that monster touch what we created.”

The protective instincts that always simmered within him flared hot and fierce. Their child. The reality of it sank its teeth into him, the idea that something so precious had been threatened because of Vincent’s cruelty. “He’ll never touch anything of ours again.”

Sarah’s gaze held his, a silent plea for understanding, for forgiveness. In that moment, Nick felt their shared history, the love and loss, coil tight around his heart.

“Rest now,” he repeated, softer this time, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand.

And as Sarah’s breaths deepened into the rhythms of sleep, Nick finally admitted what he had always known: Sarah was, and always would be, his.