Page 47

47

Naomi

T he drive takes most of the day.

Mountains give way to rolling hills, then to dense forest that stretches for miles in every direction. As Wyatt's truck rumbles down the long gravel road leading to the pack compound, my stomach knots with a mix of anticipation and dread.

"You okay?" Wyatt asks, his hand finding mine across the console.

I nod, though we both know it's not entirely true. "Just weird. Coming back."

"We can still turn around." He reminds me. "Say the word."

I squeeze his hand. "No. I need to see this through."

The Northern Ridge territory unfolds before us, its beauty undeniable despite my complicated feelings toward it. Ancient pines tower overhead, their branches creating a natural canopy that dapples the road with shifting patterns of light and shadow. In the distance, the mountains rise like sentinels, their peaks still capped with snow, even in the warmth of late spring.

"It's beautiful," Wyatt murmurs, his eyes taking in the landscape with genuine appreciation. "More rugged than Dean's territory."

"The hunting is better too," I add, remembering the abundant deer and elk that roam these forests. "The pack never lacks for food, even in the harshest winters."

The trees thin, revealing a cluster of cabins and larger buildings arranged in a loose circle around a central green space. It's familiar and foreign, all at once. The same layout I remember, but somehow, everything seems smaller than in my memories. Less imposing.

"Home sweet home," I murmur as Wyatt parks in front of what must be the main house.

For a moment, we just sit here, the engine ticking as it cools. Then Wyatt leans over and kisses me, soft and brief.

"Ready?"

I take a deep breath. "As I'll ever be."

We climb out of the truck, and the effect is immediate. Doors open. Faces appear in windows. Within moments, shifters emerge from various buildings, gathering at a cautious distance.

Their expressions range from curious, to wary, to outright shock, as they take in Wyatt's imposing size and the fact that I'm standing beside him.

"That's him?" I hear someone whisper. "The one who defeated Brad?"

“Oh my god, he’s huge. Brad didn’t stand a chance.”

"And that's Naomi," another voice adds. "I heard she could have won… a real badass"

"Shut up," a third hisses. "They can hear you."

A towering spruce tree stands at the center of the compound, surrounded by carefully tended flower beds that add splashes of color to the otherwise rustic setting.

Aaron steps forward from the group, tall and lean, with sharp features and watchful eyes.

"Alpha," he says, inclining his head to Wyatt. Then, after a brief hesitation, he adds, "Luna. Welcome back."

"Aaron, right?" Wyatt asks, his voice neutral but carrying.

The man nods.

"Thank you for maintaining order in our absence." Wyatt continues, addressing not just Aaron, but also the gathered pack. "We appreciate your patience during the transition. I know this change seems sudden, but from what I gather from the wolves I’ve met at the Games, long overdue."

His calm authority seems to ease some of the tension in the air. A few wolves step closer, their postures becoming less guarded.

An older woman approaches, her silver-streaked hair pulled back in a tight bun. It takes me a moment to place her. Sarah, who used to run the pack kitchens.

"Naomi," she says, her voice warm with what seems like genuine relief. "It's good to see you."

"Sarah," I reply, surprised by the welcome.

She glances at the others, then back at us. "We all... we want to apologize. For what Brad did. For what happened to you and your sister."

Murmurs of agreement ripple through the crowd.

"We didn't know," a younger man adds. "Not all of it. Not until the council representatives came to speak with us."

"How could we not know?" an older man counters, guilt heavy in his voice. "We should have seen something was wrong with your sister. That Rowan was always a piece of work. Finding his fated mate didn’t mean a personality transplant."

A ripple of unease passes through the gathered wolves at the name.

"How is Maddie?" a woman asks hesitantly. "Is she... is she okay?"

I tense slightly. "She's staying with Alpha Reynolds for now, to watch the rest of the Games. She's healing."

"Rowan used to say she wasn't well." Sarah explains, her expression troubled. "That she would hurt herself on purpose when her wolf was sad. That she needed to be locked up, but he didn’t have the heart to do it."

Anger flares in my chest. "That was a lie."

"We know that now," Aaron says with regret.

The pack grows restless, shifting nervously as the conversation touches on painful truths.

I feel Wyatt's aura expand slightly beside me, a subtle wave of calm authority rolling out over the gathered wolves.

"I understand you're concerned," he says, his deep voice carrying easily across the space between us. "You're worried about retribution for following Brad. For not helping Naomi and Maddie when they needed it."

No one denies it.

"We’re more interested in looking forward than back." Wyatt continues. "What matters now is what we build from here."

The relief amongst the pack is palpable.

"We've prepared a welcome for you," Aaron says after a moment. "Nothing elaborate, but... we thought you might like to meet everyone properly."

"We'd like that," I say before Wyatt can respond.

Aaron nods, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "This way, then."

He leads us toward the largest building, the pack hall, where meetings and celebrations are held. As we walk, more wolves emerge from cabins and other buildings to join the procession with curious eyes.

"They fear you," I murmur to Wyatt, quiet enough that only he can hear. “I doubt they’ve seen a rogue before. Or a shifter of your size.”

"Good," he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Keeps things interesting."

I elbow him gently. "Be nice."

"I'm always nice," he says, straight faced. “Except to Brad.”

Despite everything, I laugh, the sound carrying across the compound. I see a few startled looks, then tentative smiles in response.

The pack hall’s massive timber frame rises two stories high. Carved wolf heads adorn the support beams, their wooden eyes seeming to follow us as we approach. Unlike Dean's packhouse, which blended modern comfort with tradition, the Northern Ridge pack hall feels older, steeped in history that predates even Brad's leadership.

"This building has stood for over two hundred years," Aaron explains, noticing my gaze. "It's survived three territory wars and countless winter storms. The original alpha, Nathaniel Ridge, built it himself with the first members of the pack."

The weight of that history presses down on me as we climb the wide stone steps.

Inside, it’s been transformed with strings of lights and tables laden with food. It's not extravagant, but the effort is clear. As we enter, the gathered wolves part to let us through, many bowing their heads slightly in respect.

"Usually, there would be a formal ceremony." Aaron explains. "But under the circumstances..."

"This is perfect." I assure him.

The next few hours pass in a blur of introductions and conversations.

Wyatt moves through the crowd with a natural ease that surprises me, learning names, asking questions, and listening more than he speaks. The initial fear gives way to cautious respect as the pack realizes their new alpha isn't the monster of rumors.

I find myself drawn into my own conversations, reconnecting with faces I haven't seen in months. Some are genuinely pleased to see me. Others are merely polite. However, all are curious about what will happen next.

"Will you be staying?" Sarah asks as she refills my drink. "For good, I mean?"

I glance across the room to where Wyatt is deep in conversation with several of the pack's hunters. "I think so.”

She nods. "It won't be easy. Changing things."

"Nothing worth doing ever is," I reply.

As the evening wears on, I feel some knots in my chest loosen. This place isn't just defined by Rowan and Brad. There are good people here, people who deserve better than what they had.

Maybe we could give them that.

I watch from across the room as Wyatt crouches down to speak with an elderly pack member, making himself smaller and more approachable. No posturing, no demanding respect, just genuine interest and care. A wolf his size could intimidate without effort, but he chooses connection instead. It's these small moments that show just how different his leadership will be from what they've known.

I gravitate toward the tall windows that look out over the territory. The last light of day casts long shadows across the compound, turning the forest beyond into a sea of dark silhouettes. In the distance, mountains rise against the twilight sky, their peaks still catching the sun's last rays.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice says beside me. I turn to find a young woman, maybe twenty, with intelligent eyes that remind me of someone. "I'm Lena," she adds. "Aaron's daughter."

"The view is breathtaking," I agree. "I'd forgotten." Probably because every memory is tainted by what Brad and Rowan did.

But from now on, any memories will be good ones.

When the celebration finally winds down, Aaron shows us to the alpha house, the very place I'd sworn never to enter again. It's been cleared of Brad's belongings, freshly cleaned, and is waiting for its new occupants.

"I hope it's suitable," Aaron says, hovering in the doorway. "If you need anything at all..."

"We'll be fine." Wyatt assures him. "Thank you for everything today."

Aaron nods and backs away, leaving us alone in our new home.

The alpha house sits apart from the others, perched on a small rise that gives it a commanding view of the entire compound. It's larger than I remembered, a sprawling log structure with a wide covered porch wrapping around three sides. Stone pillars support the heavy timber roof, and large windows punctuate the walls, allowing light to flood the interior during daylight hours.

Inside, the main living area opens before us, dominated by a massive stone fireplace that rises to meet the vaulted ceiling.

The scent of pine and cedar fills the air, along with subtle hints of sage that someone has burned to cleanse the space of its previous occupant's energy. I inhale deeply, surprised to find no trace of Brad's scent lingering in the corners.

I walk through the rooms slowly, trailing my fingers over surfaces, reacquainting myself with the space. It's larger than I remember, with high ceilings and large windows that look out over the compound.

Wyatt follows, silent but watchful, giving me space to process.

As we climb the stairs to the second floor, I can feel the day's journey settling into my muscles. The master bedroom suite occupies the entire eastern wing, its windows positioned to catch the morning sun. A king-sized bed, freshly made with crisp white linens, stands against one wall. A sitting area with comfortable chairs faces a smaller fireplace, and beyond that, glass doors open onto a private balcony.

"They've been busy," Wyatt remarks, noticing the fresh flowers on the bedside table, the stack of towels in the adjoining bathroom, and the subtle touches that make the space feel welcoming rather than abandoned.

I nod, momentarily overwhelmed by the thought that went into preparing for our arrival. After all that happened with Brad and Rowan, I hadn't expected such consideration.

Finally, I stop in what would be our bedroom, turning to face him. "So?"

"So," he echoes, moving to stand in front of me.

"What do you think?" I ask, searching his face.

His hands come up to frame my face gently. "I think... they're scared, but hopeful. I think they're willing to try."

"And you?" I press. "Could you be happy here?"

He considers the question seriously. "I could be happy anywhere you are. But yes, I think I could make a life here."

Relief floods through me, though I hadn't realized how much I was holding my breath for his answer.

"What about you?" he asks. "This place has a lot of memories for you. Not all good."

I lean into his touch. "It does. But we can make fresh memories. Better ones."

He smiles, that rare, full smile that transforms his entire face. "I like the sound of that."

"So, we're doing this? Really doing this?"

"Looks like it." He pulls me closer. "Alpha and Luna. Who would have thought?"

I wrap my arms around his neck, rising on tiptoes to meet his gaze directly. "I love you, you know."

"I had a feeling," he murmurs, bending to press his forehead against mine. "And it’s a good thing, since I happen to love you, too."

Through the open balcony doors, the night air carries the sounds of the pack settling in, voices calling goodnight, doors closing, the soft padding of sentries beginning their evening rounds. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howls, echoing across the valley before being answered by another.

My wolf stirs at the sound, no longer anxious but alert, interested. This is our territory now. Our pack. Our home.

Wyatt pulls me closer, his arms encircling me completely, his heartbeat steady and strong against my cheek. Through our bond, I feel his contentment, his certainty, washing away the last of my doubts.

Inside, there's just us. Just this moment of perfect understanding between us.

"Welcome home," I whisper.

I think of how I first left this place, terrified and desperate, believing I'd never find safety again.

Now, I stand here as Luna, with a mate who would tear down mountains to protect me, and a pack looking to us for guidance.

The circle is complete, but our story has just begun.