Page 27

27

MAGNOLIA

D inner that night feels completely different than any other.

It’s not the food—though the roast smells amazing—or the hum of conversation around the table. It’s the way the pack watches us as Colt and I walk in hand-in-hand. Some of the gazes are warm, approving. Others hold curiosity or hesitation. But for once, I don’t feel the usual pang of self-consciousness under their scrutiny.

Because Colt’s hand is in mine, and that’s all I need.

I sit beside him at the long dining table, my fingers laced with his. He holds on like he doesn’t want to let go, and the warmth of his palm grounds me, makes my heart beat just a little faster.

I glance up at him, and the look in his eyes makes my breath hitch. It’s a simple moment, just the two of us sitting together, but it feels monumental. Like everything is falling into place.

The pack is watching. I know they see the mark on my neck, the claim I wear as boldly as the one Colt does. Some look away quickly when I catch their gaze, pretending to focus on their plates. Others—like Grant—smirk and wink as though to say finally. I could let their opinions bother me, but tonight, I don’t care. Let them look. Let them see.

When Colt leans closer, his lips brushing my temple, I feel my cheeks heat. He doesn’t say anything, but the quiet press of his affection sends another rush of warmth through me. My fated mate. The thought blooms in my chest, sweet and certain. He’s mine. And I’m his.

Down the table, my dad catches my eye, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. But when I glance at Mom, her expression is harder to read.

There’s no hostility—just watchfulness. I wonder if she’ll ever truly accept Colt, but I know better than to push it.

It’ll take time. I’ll give her that.

The scrape of a chair draws my attention, and I glance up just as Peaches plops into the seat across from me, her eyes already wide and sparkling like she’s just walked into the best romance novel of her life. She clasps her hands together under her chin, leaning forward with a dreamy sigh. “Oh my God, look at you two,” she says, her voice high and breathless. “I’m going to cry. You’re so cute it’s physically painful.”

Grant drops into the chair next to her with considerably less enthusiasm, his usual smirk already firmly in place. “Painful is the right word,” he says, grabbing a piece of bread. “I might actually lose my appetite.”

Peaches ignores him completely, her gaze darting between me and Colt like she can’t decide who to gush over first. “I mean, Magnolia, the way he’s holding your hand right now? Like you’re the last piece of chocolate cake at a potluck? Are you kidding me? I’m obsessed.”

I can’t help but laugh, a little embarrassed but mostly warmed by her enthusiasm. “It’s just hand-holding, Peaches,” I say, though my cheeks are already heating.

“It is not just hand-holding,” she protests, sitting up straighter and pointing dramatically at Colt. “It’s claiming. It’s devotion. It’s ‘this woman is mine, and I will fight anyone who looks at her sideways.’ Right, Colt?”

Colt raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching in a half-smile. “Pretty much,” he says simply, and Peaches claps her hands like he’s just announced our engagement.

“See? I knew it. I’m never wrong about these things.” She leans closer, her gaze softening as it lands on me. “And you, Maggie…you look so happy. Like, glowing-from-the-inside-out happy. I could cry.”

Grant rolls his eyes, tearing a piece of bread in half. “You’ve already said that twice. You crying yet, or are you just building up to it?”

Peaches smacks him on the arm without breaking eye contact with me. “Let me live, Grant. Not all of us are emotionally constipated cynics.”

“Not all of us are walking Hallmark cards either,” he shoots back, though his smirk softens just a little when Peaches ignores him again and reaches across the table to grab my free hand.

“Maggie,” she says. “You deserve this. You deserve every ounce of whatever this is, because you’re amazing, and anyone who can’t see that is a fool.”

I blink at her, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. “Peaches…”

“And Colt.” She turns to him now, her expression deadly serious. “You’d better treat her right. Because if you don’t, I will personally hunt you down and make your life a living hell.”

The words are frankly hysterical coming out of Peaches–maybe the smallest omega in our pack, curvy, sweet…not exactly someone who could take on a guy like Colt.

Still, I believe her.

Colt grins, leaning back in his chair with an ease that makes my heart flutter. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he says, his thumb brushing over my knuckles again. “She’s got me wrapped around her finger.”

Peaches lets out an actual squeal, clutching her chest like she’s been shot. “Stop it. Stop being perfect. I can’t take it.”

Grant groans, throwing his head back like he’s in actual pain. “Peaches, for the love of God, dial it back.”

Peaches glares at him, her hands still pressed dramatically to her chest. “How dare you diminish this love story? Do you have eyes, Grant? Have you seen the way he looks at her? It’s like she invented oxygen.”

“It’s exactly like that,” Colt says, completely deadpan, and Peaches nearly melts right there on the spot.

“You’re killing me,” she moans, her hands covering her face. “This is too much. It’s too beautiful. I need a moment.”

“You need therapy,” Grant mutters, but there’s no real bite to it. If anything, there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watches Peaches dissolve into romantic hysteria.

I laugh, shaking my head as Colt leans in to press a kiss to my temple. “Peaches,” I say gently, “you’re going to scare him off if you keep this up.”

“Impossible,” she says, peeking at me through her fingers. “He’s clearly head over heels. Aren’t you, Colt?”

Colt doesn’t even hesitate. “I am,” he says, his voice low and sure, and the way he looks at me in that moment makes my breath catch. “Completely.”

Peaches actually gasps, clutching Grant’s arm like she needs support. “Grant, did you hear that? Are you hearing this?”

“I’m hearing it,” Grant says dryly, pulling his arm free and reaching for another piece of bread. “Doesn’t mean I want to.”

Peaches shakes her head, her eyes shining. “You’re hopeless. But Magnolia and Colt? They’re everything. And I’m so, so happy for you.”

Her words, as over-the-top as they are, settle warmly in my chest. And as Colt’s hand tightens around mine, his thumb still brushing over my knuckles, I realize I’ve never felt more seen.

More supported.

More loved.

Grant groans again, but I can see the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright, lovebirds. Can we eat now, or do we need to stage an intervention for Peaches first?”

“We can eat,” I say, laughing as Peaches dramatically dabs at her eyes with a napkin. “But only if Peaches promises not to cry into the potatoes.”

“No promises,” she says, grinning through her faux tears. “But I’ll try.”

The sound of clinking silverware and soft conversation fills the dining hall as the pack settles into their meal. The warm aroma of roast and baked potatoes mingles with the hum of voices, but all I can focus on is the way Colt’s thumb brushes over my knuckles. It’s a small, absent gesture, but it feels monumental as the pack watches us.

And Peaches and Grant aren’t the only ones who’ve noticed. We’re about halfway through dinner when I notice Reyes making his way toward us, his movements measured but purposeful. He stops at the edge of the table, one hand resting lightly on the back of an empty chair, his deep brown eyes taking us both in with a mixture of warmth and scrutiny.

“Well,” he says after a moment, his voice even and rich, carrying the authority of a man who’s led for decades but with the gentleness of someone who knows when to be soft. “Look at you two. I’d say it’s about time.”

I can’t help but laugh. “That seems to be the consensus.”

Reyes smiles faintly, a touch of amusement in his gaze, but then he turns his attention fully to Colt. “You’ve claimed her,” he says, not a question but a statement of fact. “That’s not a step you take lightly.”

Colt straightens slightly beside me, his hand tightening around mine. “No, sir,” he says. “It’s not.”

Reyes nods, his expression thoughtful. “Good.” He pauses. “She’s the heart of this pack in a lot of ways. You take care of her, Colt.”

“I will,” Colt replies, his voice firm, and the weight of his promise feels real. Reyes holds his gaze for a long moment before finally nodding, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’ve got my blessing,” he says simply, and my chest tightens with emotion. “Now don’t make me regret giving it.”

“Thank you,” Colt says, and I can hear the genuine gratitude in his voice. Reyes pats his shoulder, his grip firm and fatherly—and to my surprise, Tilda speaks up from his side. She’s normally reserved with how she talks to people, preferring action to words…but that just means she has something to say to Colt.

“I know what it’s like,” she starts, “to come into this pack from the outside. It’s not easy. People look at you differently, like you don’t belong, no matter how hard you try. But…you can prove them wrong.”

Colt doesn’t say anything, but the way his jaw tightens, his shoulders subtly stiffening, tells me her words hit home in a way that isn’t entirely comfortable for him. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—a shadow of doubt, of apprehension—that sends a chill rippling through me.

Tilda reaches out, her hand resting briefly on his forearm. “You’re lucky,” she says, glancing at me with a small, knowing smile. “Not everyone gets someone like Magnolia to fight for them.”

I manage a smile in return, but my focus is on Colt. The way his jaw flexes, the faint tension in his grip on my hand, the way he doesn’t meet my eyes…it’s subtle, but it’s there. Like he’s bracing for something. Like her words aren’t just a passing comment—they’ve struck a nerve.

And it terrifies me.

What is he hiding? What part of himself is he holding back, even now, after everything we’ve been through? My wolf stirs uneasily, her instincts prickling at the edges of my awareness. I try to remind myself of what I know—Colt loves me. He’s proven it in every way that matters. But the uncertainty I feel through the bond, the way his emotions flicker, makes my heart clench.

Tilda’s hand drops from his arm, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she nods, satisfied. She turns back to Reyes, her hand brushing his as they step back toward their seats, leaving me and Colt alone again at the table.

I wait until they’re out of earshot before leaning closer to him, lowering my voice. “Are you okay?”

He blinks, like I’ve startled him, and then forces a smile. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m fine.”

I search his face, looking for something more, but his walls are back up, his expression carefully composed. “You sure?”

His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something vulnerable—but then it’s gone. “I promise,” he says, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in that way that always calms me. “I’m good, angel.”

And maybe it makes me a lovesick fool, but I believe him.

We’re finishing up the last bites of roast and potatoes when a small tug at Colt’s sleeve draws my attention. I glance to the side, and my heart gives a little squeeze when I see Lucy standing beside him, her curls bouncing as she shifts her weight from foot to foot. Her tiny hand is gripping his arm, her big, round eyes wide and earnest.

Colt looks down, clearly caught off guard, but he leans toward her, his expression softening. “Hey, little one. What’s up?”

My sister doesn’t hesitate. “Will you read to me?” she asks, her voice small but confident in the way only a child can manage. “After dinner?”

My breath catches as I watch the scene unfold. Lucy has always been shy around people she doesn’t know well, especially someone as intimidating as Colt. But here she is, tugging on his arm like she’s known him her whole life.

Colt blinks, and for a second, I think he might say no. But then his expression shifts…and he softens. He leans down, meeting her gaze at eye level. “Yeah,” he says, his voice low and gentle. “I can do that. What book?”

Lucy’s whole face lights up, and she bounces on her toes with excitement. “The dragon one! The one with the knight!”

Colt chuckles, the sound rich and warm, and ruffles her curls with a hand that’s far too big for her tiny head. “Sounds like a plan,” he says. “After dinner.”

She beams at him, practically glowing, and scampers off to her seat next to my mom like she’s just won the lottery. My heart squeezes in my chest, a deep warmth spreading through me as I watch her go…and it’s even more intense when I see my mother smile like there’s a chance–just a little chance–that she’ll accept Colt. When I turn back to Colt, he’s watching Lucy with a look I can’t quite describe. Something soft. Something reverent. Like he can’t quite believe what just happened.

“You’re good with her,” I murmur, my voice quiet but full of meaning.

Colt glances at me, and for a moment, I see something raw and unguarded in his eyes. “She’s a good kid,” he says, his voice rough but gentle. “Kind of reminds me of you.”

I have to swallow past the lump forming in my throat. “That’s sweet,” I whisper, my fingers tightening around his. “Thank you.”

He smiles at me then, the kind of smile that makes my heart stutter. “Thank you,” he says, and there’s a weight to the words, a sincerity that makes my chest ache.

As the pack begins clearing their plates and drifting into smaller conversations, I let myself imagine the future. I glance at Colt, and I realize I want more of this. More of him. More of us.

A life. A family.

The thought sneaks up on me again, unbidden but impossible to ignore. A little girl with his stormy blue eyes and my curls. A baby who grows up knowing they’re fiercely loved. My wolf stirs, a low hum of approval threading through my thoughts, and I know it’s not just me who feels it.

Colt’s hand tightens around mine, and I glance at him to find his gaze already on me. His eyes are steady, searching, like he’s trying to read the thoughts I can’t quite bring myself to say out loud.

“Now it’s my turn to ask–are you okay?”

I nod, my throat tight with emotion. “I’m fine,” I whisper. “Just…happy.”

His smile softens, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in that way that makes me melt. “Me too,” he murmurs, and the way he says it makes me believe it’s true.

As the pack begins to drift out of the community center, Lucy bounces back over, her arms clutching a battered, well-loved book to her chest. “Colt,” she says, her tone expectant, “it’s time to read now!”

He chuckles, standing and ruffling her hair again. “Alright, little one. Lead the way.”

Lucy grabs his hand, her tiny fingers wrapping around his much larger ones, and my heart clenches at the sight. Colt glances back at me as she pulls him toward the couches, grinning.

A promise: I’ll make sure you have this too. Just ask.

I watch them go, my chest full to bursting with a warmth I can’t contain. My mate. My fated mate.

And maybe, if I’m lucky, the father of my children one day, too.