Caleb had involuntarily joined Dom’s Pack when he saved him, but had agreed to stay, knowing it was the best place for him. He’d started laughing again, glimpses of the young, happy Caleb showing more and more. He had a scar across his throat, the line faded but still noticeable and Dom seemed to think he would always have it since the shift couldn’t completely erase all wounds.
“I didn’t miss it, did I?” Leah asked breathlessly, running up to us. “I’m so excited. I’ve never seen a Pack member transfer.”
“Neither have we,” I told her, smiling. She’d recovered completely from the car accident, escaping with only a concussion and a few lacerations. She strolled over to stand next to Liam and I nudged Dom.
I saw, he murmured. Don’t make so much of it.
But, maybe….
Don’t interfere, he admonished and I pressed my lips together, stealing a peek from behind his back, crossing my fingers as I did.
Vivian walked up hesitantly, her head held high as if she expected us to reject her presence. Wren slipped her fingers from Dad’s hand and went to her, smiling encouragingly. “I’m glad you came,” she said and my mother’s posture thawed slightly. It had been a slow, painfully slow, process but Mom was starting to reconnect with Wren and a few of the other women who’d escaped from the Hanley compound. She understood them better than I ever could and her straightforward manner helped them adapt more than sympathy ever would. She’d formed a sort of kinship with Sam, to all of our surprise, as they worked together to integrate the Hanley women into the outside world.
When Hank strolled up and made a beeline straight for Vivian, I cringed, and Dom growled, Don’t even….
Nope, I answered making a popping sound on the p. Nope, nope, and nope.
“I think we’re ready to start now,” Dom said quietly, walking over to Trent and Anna. He stopped right in front of Trent, uncomfortably close, as he leaned forward and touched his forehead to Trent’s. He cupped his hand around the back of Trent’s head, and pressed a kiss to his temple as he murmured, “You will never walk alone, my friend.”
The essence of Trent slipped from the Pack bond, quieter than a whisper and I gulped back my tears as Trent looked at him through red rimmed eyes. “I will never forget what you did for me.”
“Same here, brother,” Dom echoed, releasing him as he stepped back. “Take care.”
Anna stepped forward and I looked on eagerly. Dom said blood had to be exchanged for the Pack bond to establish and I was curious to see how they did it.
“We are honored you chose to join us.” Anna spoke clearly, the words heavy with meaning. “I am honored by your decision,” she added, smiling tremulously. She licked her lip then bit down, drawing blood and Trent smiled. “Do you choose of your own free will to join the Navarre Pack and accept me as your Alpha?”
“I do,” he answered promptly, his eyes glowing fiercely. “I will defend and protect this Pack, respect and listen to them, and love them as my own.” He kneeled as he took Anna’s hands, surprising us. “I will honor you as my Alpha, obey you, and destroy anyone who would do you harm.”
“The Navarre Pack welcomes you,” Anna replied, leaning forward until their lips met, their blood mingling as she accepted him into the Pack. “I welcome you.”
A cheer went up as they kissed, their promise so much more than just a simple acceptance, and I hugged Dom, grateful and happy as I glanced around the clearing at our friends and family. We were safe, happy, and most of all, loved.
Epilogue
Five years later
“You don’t have to bring a present,” Dom claimed, sounding harassed as he tried to get pants on his son. “Will you be still?” He griped to the squirming eight month old.
“But it’s a birthday party,” I argued, wrestling a dress over the head of our daughter. “Ah hah,” I said in satisfaction when I got her arms through the sleeves. “I know you don’t like it, but Gramma gave you the dress and she expects to see you in it,” I announced as if the eight month old could understand.
“The man is turning a hundred and twenty,” Dom said in exasperation. “I don’t think we could give him anything he doesn’t already have.”
“You make a good point,” I said, when his words clicked. “How old?”
Dom hesitated, realizing he’d let something slip that he hadn’t meant to. “A hundred?” he offered, smiling carefully.
“And?” I asked pointedly, knowing that was the most important part.
“And twenty.”
“That’s not possible,” I said stupidly, my hands going lax around our daughter as she crawled away. “People don’t live that long.”
“Shifters do,” Dom said with a shrug, like it was no big deal.