Page 21

21

MAGNOLIA

T he sun is already high by the time we finally leave the observatory. We’ve stayed longer than I expected, the morning slipping into afternoon, then evening, as we move through the domes and crumbling halls, scavenging for parts and talking about…everything.

I didn’t think a day like this was possible, where the world feels so quiet, so far away. Colt finds what he needs for the projector—some kind of filament, a few tools, and a dusty old box of wiring that he says might come in handy. I gather a few treasures of my own: a handful of star charts, some battered but beautiful astronomy books, and a little glass orb that catches the light just right. It was part of some display once, but now it’s a piece of magic I can’t leave behind.

But it’s not just the scavenging that keeps us here. It’s Colt. The way he leans against the telescope platform, his eyes following my every move as I study the constellations on a map. The way his voice softens when he talks about the stars, hesitant, like he’s sharing something secret. And the way he looks at me when I finally ask about the bond—this undeniable pull that hums between us, as if the universe itself is drawing us together.

“I’m not imagining it, am I?” I ask, my voice quiet but steady. “This…thing between us.”

He doesn’t answer right away. His gaze drops to the ground, his jaw tightening. But then his eyes meet mine, and for a moment, his usual guarded expression cracks wide open.

“No,” he says, his voice low and certain. “You’re not imagining it.”

I want to say more. I want to ask him everything—why it’s happening, how he feels, what it means for us. But the words catch in my throat. I told myself this trip was about helping the den, about finding parts for the projector and collecting teaching materials for the kids. But standing here, in the golden glow of fading sunlight, I know the truth. This trip has always been about him. About us.

He kisses me again before we leave, slower this time. His hands cradle my face like he’s afraid I might break, and for a moment, it feels like I might. The weight of his lips on mine, the way he tastes like a promise—it’s overwhelming and perfect all at once. And as much as I want to stay here forever, to let the observatory become our little world, I know we have to go back.

We pack up in quiet companionship, loading everything onto the motorcycle. I steal one last glance at the observatory as we pull away, its domes glinting faintly in the sunlight.

The wind rushes past me as the motorcycle roars down the road, the morning sun casting long, golden rays over the horizon. My arms tighten around Colt’s waist, my cheek resting against his broad back. I’ve never felt anything like this—this wild, giddy sense of freedom.

The memory of last night sends a flush to my cheeks and a tingling warmth through my body. I made a choice, one I’ve never been brave enough to make before. And when Colt kissed me, when he touched me, it felt like the universe itself had aligned to tell me I was right.

He’s my mate. I’m sure of it now. Every instinct in me howls that he’s the one. My wolf stretches languidly in my chest, a sense of deep satisfaction humming through me as I press closer to him. The world could end right now, and I’d still feel complete.

About halfway home, Colt pulls the bike over to the side of the road. The gravel crunches under the tires as he brings us to a stop near a shaded patch of trees. The air feels cooler here, the scent of earth and greenery mingling with the heat of the sun.

“Stretch break,” he says, cutting the engine and swinging off the bike in one fluid motion. He glances back at me. “And maybe a snack if you’re hungry.”

I slide off the bike, my legs wobbly from the ride. “I could eat,” I admit, grabbing my bag from the back.

We settle under the shade of a tree, the leaves casting dappled patterns over the ground. I pull out some of the leftovers from our picnic—a couple of slices of bread, some fruit, and a small jar of jam—and Colt offers me a water bottle from his pack. He doesn’t say much, but I can feel him watching me, his gaze steady and assessing.

For a while, we eat in silence, the tension that’s been building since we left the observatory hanging heavy between us. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

“They’re going to be mad, aren’t they?” I ask.

Colt exhales, leaning back against the tree, and his expression softens just enough to remind me of the man who held me so carefully last night. “Mad doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he says. “Your mother is going to come at me like a freight train.”

The corner of my mouth twitches in an almost-smile, but I can’t make it real. “You don’t have to take the heat for this. I’m the one who?—”

“Stop.” His voice is firm but not unkind, cutting me off before I can finish. “I know how this is going to go. Your mom’s going to throw every ounce of her fury at me, and I’m fine with that. She can blame me if it makes her feel better.”

I shake my head, guilt gnawing at me. “You shouldn’t have to?—”

“She’s your mom,” he interrupts, his gaze locking with mine. “She loves you. And yeah, she’s going to be pissed, but not at you. Not really. She’ll be mad because she’s scared, because she thinks I’m some no-good drifter who’s going to screw everything up for her golden girl.”

I blink, taken aback by how calmly he says it, like he’s already resigned himself to her wrath. “You’re not a no-good drifter,” I say quietly.

A faint smirk tugs at his lips, but it doesn’t last long. “That’s not how she’ll see it. But I’ll deal with it, Magnolia. This isn’t on you.”

His words send a mix of warmth and unease through me. The way he’s already bracing himself for my mother’s anger—for all of their judgment—it makes my chest ache. But it also reminds me of why I chose him. He’s steady, strong, willing to take the hard hits for me. And that scares me almost as much as it comforts me.

“I just…” I trail off, staring down at the small jar of jam in my hands. “I don’t want them to think I’m throwing everything away. That I’m being reckless.”

Colt’s eyes soften, and he leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “You think they’ll see this as reckless?”

I nod, swallowing hard. “My mom will. My dad…maybe not as much. But they’ve sacrificed so much for us, for me. I don’t want them to feel like I’m…I don’t know, wasting everything they worked for.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “You’re not wasting anything,” he says finally, his voice low and sure. “You’re living your life. And yeah, maybe it’s not the life they had mapped out for you, but it’s yours. They’ll come around. Your dad especially.”

I fidget with the edge of the blanket I’ve spread out, trying to absorb his words. “You sound so sure.”

“I’ve been around long enough to know parents aren’t as hard to crack as they act,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “And I’ve met your dad. He’s not going to stand in your way once he sees how much this means to you.”

“And my mom?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, the world feels achingly still. “Your mom’s going to make me earn it,” he says, his voice low and sure, every word wrapped in quiet, unshakable resolve. “And that’s fine. I will.”

It should be enough to soothe the chaos in my head, but instead, it only stirs something deeper. The realization that this man—this complicated, infuriating, impossibly magnetic man—is willing to face down my mother, my pack, my entire world if it means keeping me.

I nod, the movement small and uncertain, but the knot in my stomach doesn’t unravel. It tightens, pulling taut with every beat of my heart. Because as much as I want to believe him—as much as I do believe him—there’s a part of me that knows what he’s signing up for. My mom is more than just stubborn. She’s a force of nature, and Colt…

Colt isn’t just standing in her way. He’s throwing himself into the storm, headfirst and unflinching. And I’m not sure if I’m terrified or thrilled by the thought that he might actually make it out the other side.

We finish the rest of our snack in silence. When we pack up and get back on the bike, the warmth of Colt’s body is a comfort, but the closer we get to the den, the tighter the knot in my stomach grows.

By the time the perimeter fence comes into view, my heart is pounding. Even from a distance, I can see Frankie standing there, her arms crossed, eyes narrow. Colt’s body stiffens slightly under my arms, and I know he sees her too. She keeps her eyes on us as we roll through the open gate, and when it closes behind us, I can’t help but feel cornered.

The bike slows, gravel crunching beneath the tires as Colt brings it to a stop. I reluctantly loosen my grip on him, my heart sinking as Frankie strides forward. Her gaze flicks between us, her expression a mixture of relief and barely concealed anger.

“Where the hell have you been?” Frankie snaps, her voice low but tight with frustration. Her eyes sweep over me, then Colt. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put everyone through?”

I open my mouth to respond, but Frankie’s gaze has already landed on Colt. Her shoulders square, her stance widening slightly—protective, bristling, and every bit the warrior she is for the pack. “And you,” she says. “You thought it was a good idea to take her off on some joyride without telling anyone? What were you thinking?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Colt growls. His posture shifts, putting himself between me and Frankie—not aggressively, but protectively, his instincts flaring. “I needed a filament for the projector; Grant saw us go–”

“Frankie,” I say quickly, stepping forward. “It’s not what you think. I’m fine. We’re fine. I wanted to go. Colt wasn’t trying to?—”

Frankie cuts me off, her sharp gaze softening as it flickers over me. “You wanted to go,” she echoes. “That’s not the point, Magnolia. Do you have any idea what your parents have been through? You up and leave with nothing more than a note… Your mom hasn’t slept, your dad’s been pacing the den all night. They’re terrified something happened to you. And you know how much they depend on you—how much this pack does.”

The guilt hits me like a wave, but before I can respond, her eyes snap back to Colt. Her nostrils flare slightly, her alpha senses picking up on something. My stomach twists as I realize what she’s noticed.

Her gaze locks on his neck. The bite.

My mark.

Frankie freezes, her eyes narrowing as the pieces click into place. Slowly, she straightens, her shoulders tense and her jaw tight. “You mated her,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carries all the weight of a storm.

“No,” I cut in, shaking my head. “I bit him. He didn’t force me to do anything.”

Frankie ignores me, keeping her glare on Colt. “Did you even think about what that means? For her? For her family? For the pack?”

Colt’s jaw tightens, but his voice stays calm, even as his hands curl into fists at his sides. “It wasn’t something we planned. But it’s done. And I’m going to take care of her.”

Frankie exhales sharply, shaking her head. “Taking care of her,” she mutters. “Do you even understand what that means here? What she’s giving up for you?”

“I do,” Colt says firmly. “And I’m ready for it.”

Frankie studies him for a long moment, clearly angry. Her gaze softens slightly when it shifts back to me, though there’s still a flicker of disappointment there. “Magnolia, you’re not a kid,” she says. “I know you’re capable of making your own choices. But this isn’t just about you. You’ve got to talk to your parents. You’ve got to make them understand…because they’re not going to take this lightly.”

“I know,” I say. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll explain everything.”

Frankie nods, her arms crossing over her chest as she steps back. “Good. Because Sarita’s going to have questions—and you know I’m the one who has to keep the omegas safe. That includes you, Magnolia.”

“I’m not in danger,” I say quickly. “Colt wouldn’t hurt me.”

Her gaze flickers back to him. “He’d better not,” she says, her voice low. “Because if he does, he’ll answer to me.”

Colt doesn’t flinch. “I won’t hurt her,” he says simply. “You have my word.”

Frankie holds his gaze for a moment longer, then nods. “Good,” she says, stepping aside. “Now go fix this mess. Starting with Sarita.”