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MAGNOLIA

D inner in the Jones household is always a little chaotic, but it’s the kind of chaos that holds the pack together. Lucy’s giggles rise above the clatter of dishes, her bright laughter filling every corner of the room. River slouches in his chair with the practiced indifference of a seventeen-year-old, picking at his food and pretending he doesn’t care about anything. Kate leans over the table to snatch the last roll before anyone else can claim it, her smirk daring anyone to call her out on it.

And then there’s me—always the one cutting Lucy’s meat into tiny pieces before she tries to swallow it whole, gently reminding River to sit up straight, and shooting Kate a pointed look when she stirs the pot just for fun.

The oldest. The responsible one. The good one. Always.

It’s been like this for as long as I can remember. My family is a cornerstone of the Austin Den, a symbol of resilience and unity in a world that fell apart long before any of us were born. My parents, Sarita and Bruce, are both beta wolves—steady, reliable, and fiercely protective of their own. They were some of the first rebels to rise up against the Heavenly Host, and their defiance helped lay the groundwork for what the Austin Den has become.

They’ve kept us together through everything—through the scarcity, the uncertainty, and the constant threat of danger. All us kids were born after the Convergence, a fact that still astonishes people when they think about the odds. Lucy, our youngest, was a surprise born into what felt like relative peace, but Kate, River, and I? We were born in the thick of it, when survival wasn’t guaranteed and every birth felt like a tiny act of rebellion.

I was the first omega born on Earth after the Convergence, or so my mother tells me. She doesn’t talk about it often, but I know enough to piece it together. While pregnant with me, my mom was captured by the Heavenly Host, infected with lycanthropy while my dad tried desperately to find her. She escaped—barely—and gave birth to me in the middle of a safe house somewhere south of here.

Dad says I was small and quiet, but fierce, even then. “You came out fighting,” he always says with a smile, ruffling my hair like I’m still that tiny baby in his arms.

That story has always felt like a heavy mantle to carry, though my parents never made me feel like I had to live up to it. But the pack remembers. They look at me and see not just Sarita and Bruce’s daughter, but a symbol of what it means to survive against all odds.

Still, as much as the den reveres us, inside these walls we’re just the Jones family.

And dinner is our time to be messy, imperfect, and loud.

“Can you pass the rolls, Kate?” River grumbles, barely looking up from his plate as he half-heartedly spears a piece of broccoli.

“You snooze, you lose,” Kate replies, popping the last roll into her mouth with a dramatic flourish.

“Kate,” Mom warns. “There’s more bread in the kitchen if you’re still hungry, River.”

He slouches further in his chair, muttering something under his breath, but he doesn’t make a move to get up.

Lucy, sitting next to me, giggles at the exchange, her little feet swinging under the table. “River’s always hungry,” she announces, as if it’s some grand revelation.

“Teenage boys are a bottomless pit,” Dad says with a chuckle, reaching over to tousle River’s hair. River ducks away with a groan, but even he cracks a reluctant smile.

“Better that than stealing the last roll,” I mutter pointedly, aiming a look at Kate.

Kate shrugs, unapologetic. “Survival of the fittest, Maggie. You’d better get faster if you want to keep up.”

I huff out a breath. “I don’t know if stuffing your face with rolls is the thing you should be bragging about.”

Kate snorts. “Speaking of fittest…” she adds after a beat, her tone syrupy sweet in that way only a little sister can manage, “any exciting new mechanics in the den today?”

Her words land with the subtlety of a grenade, and I feel my face heat instantly. “What are you talking about?” I ask, trying for casual but failing miserably. My voice pitches higher than I’d like, and I busy myself cutting Lucy’s meat into smaller pieces to avoid meeting Kate’s knowing grin.

Kate smirks, triumphant. "Oh, come on. Everyone saw the way you were looking at him during Reyes’ introduction. Don’t play innocent."

"I wasn’t looking at anyone."

"You were staring," she singsongs, leaning back in her chair. "Like, really staring."

"Kate," I warn, but my voice lacks the usual authority. My brain is too busy replaying the moment Colt warned me how dangerous he could be, his eyes locked on mine, his voice low and rough as he said my name.

What did he mean? I can’t stop speculating…and I’m dying to find out.

"Was he handsome?" Lucy pipes up, big brown eyes wide. She’s holding a forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to her mouth, completely captivated by the conversation.

"Lucy!" I groan. "Eat your dinner."

"But was he?" she presses, clearly not ready to let it go. "Like a knight? Or a prince?"

"More like a pirate," River mutters, poking at his stew with disinterest, though I catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Scruffy, dangerous-looking. Totally the pirate type."

“River,” I hiss, my gaze snapping to him.

"What?" he says, raising his hands in mock innocence. "I’m just saying. He looked cool."

“Cool isn’t always a good thing,” Mom cuts in. The table quiets slightly as her gaze lands squarely on me. “That man looks like trouble, Magnolia.”

"Mom," I groan, sinking a little lower in my chair. "I barely know him."

"And let’s keep it that way," she says firmly, setting her fork down with purpose. "This isn’t about you, starshine. It’s about the pack. A man like that doesn’t just wander into a den like ours without a reason, and until we know what it is, you need to be cautious. You’re an omega, Magnolia. That means you’re a target.”

Her words settle over the table, heavy and impossible to ignore. I glance down at my plate, my appetite evaporating.

I know she’s right—on paper, at least. But it doesn’t stop the small flicker of defensiveness in my chest.

"Magnolia’s a good judge of character," Dad says, offering me a small, reassuring smile. “She’s been looking out for this pack since she was old enough to walk. If she thinks he’s alright, then he’s alright.”

"She doesn’t know him," Mom shoots back. “And neither do we. This is a pack, Magnolia. We don’t just let anyone waltz in and earn our trust overnight."

I swallow hard. "I wasn’t planning on—" I start, but she cuts me off.

"I’m just saying, be careful," she says. "You’ve always had a big heart, starshine. Sometimes too big."

My jaw tightens and I resist the urge to talk back. I push my food around my plate, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

Kate takes the opportunity to stir the pot. “Maybe he’s not a pirate,” she muses, a grin spreading across her face. “Maybe he’s like one of those brooding heroes from Maggie’s old books. You know, the ones with tragic pasts and smoldering eyes?”

"Kate," I hiss, my cheeks flushing hotter.

"Ohhh," Lucy singsongs, her little voice rising with glee. "Maggie likes him."

"I don’t like him," I snap, louder than I mean to. The table goes still, even Lucy blinking up at me like I just ruined her favorite bedtime story.

I take a breath, willing myself to calm down. "I barely know him," I add.

“Well, maybe you should get to know him,” Dad says. “You never know, Magnolia. Sometimes the best things come when you least expect them.”

“Bruce,” Mom says, her eyes narrowing at him. “You’re encouraging her, and you shouldn’t be. This isn’t just some harmless crush.”

“What?” Dad raises his hands. “I’m just saying. Let the girl live a little. She’s twenty-four years old and hasn’t let us down yet.”

I sink back in my chair, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. Lucy, oblivious to the tension, picks up her fork again and takes a big bite of potatoes, her face full of innocent delight.

"Is he your mate, Maggie?" she asks around a mouthful of food, her words muffled but still clear enough to make me groan.

"Alright, that’s enough," I say, standing abruptly and grabbing my plate. "I’ll do the dishes tonight."

"You don’t have to—" Mom starts…but I’m already halfway to the kitchen.

As I start rinsing plates in the sink, the clatter of silverware and the hum of conversation fade into the background. My mind drifts to Colt—the way his eyes seemed to strip me bare, and that low, teasing tone when he said my name.

He’s trouble. I know that much.

But some small, rebellious part of me can’t help but want to indulge in that…and the impulse is made even stronger by my mother’s disapproval.

As if on cue, I hear Mom coming in from the dining room, excusing herself as my dad and siblings start chattering again. Her footsteps are soft as she comes into view and leans against the counter, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed.

“You didn’t have to come in here, Mom,” I mutter, avoiding her eyes. “I promise I won’t get myself in trouble.”

“I’m not trying to be the bad guy, starshine,” she says. “You know I trust you, but this…this feels different.”

I set the plate I’m scrubbing back in the soapy water and glance at her. “I don’t even know him, Mom,” I say. “He’s just a mechanic. There’s a good chance our paths will barely even cross.”

Mom’s gaze sharpens, but she doesn’t interrupt. I know that look—it’s the one she gives when she’s figuring out how to make herself very clear.

“You may not know him,” she says finally, “but I’ve been around long enough to know his type. He’s not here just to fix trucks, Magnolia. Men like that don’t wander into a den like ours without a reason. And the way he carries himself? He’s been through things, things that leave scars.”

I can’t help but feel the familiar tug of guilt that comes from disappointing her, even in small ways. “You think he’s dangerous,” I say quietly, not meeting her eyes.

“I know he’s dangerous,” she replies. “And I’m not saying that to scare you. I just…I want you to be careful. You have a way of seeing the best in people, starshine. That’s a gift, but it’s also a risk.”

I turn back to the sink, scrubbing at the same plate even though it’s already clean. “I’m not a kid anymore, Mom,” I murmur. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” she says, stepping closer. “You’ve been taking care of this family, of this pack, since you were old enough to hold Kate in your arms. But you don’t have to carry all of it alone, Magnolia. And you don’t have to prove anything to me or anyone else.”

She’s given me this talk before–and it never means anything, because I’m constantly proving myself anyway. For a moment, I can’t trust myself to look at her. Instead, I rinse the plate and set it on the drying rack.

“I’m not trying to prove anything,” I say after a moment. I don’t add that in fact, this might be the first time I just want something for myself.

Mom sighs, her hand reaching out to touch my arm. “I know you’re curious about him,” she says gently. “That’s natural. He’s an alpha, you’re an omega…I can’t say I understand, but I know it’s an impulse that’s hard to resist. But please, Magnolia—keep your distance until we know more. For your sake, and for the pack’s.”

Her touch is warm, but it also feels like a warning. I nod. “I hear you, Mom.”

She studies me for a moment longer, then nods. “Alright,” she says, stepping back. “But you tell me if anything feels off. Promise me that.”

“I promise,” I say, even as my mind drifts back to Colt—the way his sharp eyes had softened, just for a moment, when he looked at me.

How would he look at me if I asked him to kiss me? If I asked him to hold me?

Mom leaves the kitchen, her footsteps fading back into the dining room. I finish the dishes mechanically, my movements automatic as my mind churns. Colt is dangerous—Mom’s right about that. But there’s something about him, something that doesn’t just scare me.

It pulls me, like a current I can’t fight.

And as much as I want to heed Mom’s warning and continue to be the golden child, I can’t stop wondering if there’s more to Colt Morgan than the danger he wears like armor.

And even if there’s not…I’m certain I want to be the one to find out.