39 - Finn


    Greta and I found ourselves too exhrated to focus on anything else, so we nestled together on the couch, talking softly as the night stretched into the early morning hours. Ryker had mentioned he had some ideas to help speed things along for us, but he needed to catch a few hours of sleep before Rosie stirred from hertest nap. I admired how devoted he was to supporting his mate during these early, uncertain days—something I both respected and envied quietly.


    Greta let out a heavy sigh but remained silent. Through the bond, I sensed a wave of sadness washing over her, yet she was curled up close against my side, her head tucked beneath my chin, shielding her face from my view.


    "Hey," I whispered gently, pressing a soft squeeze to her hip. "Talk to me."


    Another sigh, then a slight sniffle. The tension was unbearable, and I couldn''t stand the silence any longer. I lifted her into myp, forcing her to meet my gaze even though she kept her eyes tightly shut, as if that could hide the redness beneath.


    "Greta, love, you have to open up to me," I urged softly. "What''s going on in that stubborn mind of yours?"


    Her breath came uneven, shaky as she tried to steady herself. “It just feels too good to be true.” Her eyes stayed closed, but a single tear slipped free. This time, she didn''t wipe it away or try to hide how deeply she was feeling.


    When she seemed reluctant to say more, I slid my hands up her thighs, resting them gently on her lower back to pull her closer. "What feels too good to be true?"


    A shaky sob escaped her lips. "All of this-us, the kids, the life I thought was lost forever. I spent ten years shutting that part of me away because I believed I was broken beyond repair. I told myself I''d be a warrior and nothing else. So I threw myself into being the best warrior in Ryker''s pack. But now, you''vee into my life, and no matter what, I couldn''t push you away." A smallugh bubbled up, but she still wouldn''t meet my eyes. "Now we''re even talking about taking in stray kids, giving them what we never had. It''s only been a few days, and I''m already too attached. What if we find Trinity''s pack, and her real family wants her back? I don''t know if I''ll be able to handle losing her."


    The dam broke, and she cried with a rawness I never expected from my usually steady, strong mate.


    I pulled her close, holding her tight. "We don''t know what the future holds," I murmured into her hair. "You might be right-we could lose her." Her sobs grew louder. "But she might also be facing even greater loss. She might need us when all the other familiese back, except hers. Gabriel, Peyton, Landon-they all need us too. You had Ryker, and I had Nan. Right now, they need someone they can trust. No matter what happens, we have to be that for them." I cupped her face, lifting her chin so she couldn''t look away. "Whether we have to say goodbye or survive the teenage years, we''ll face it all together, okay?" I waited for her to really look at me.


    Her chocte brown eyes, rimmed with tears, met mine. Her face was blotchy from crying, but in that moment, she looked more beautiful to me than ever before. Vulnerable, hands clenched in my shirt, she had let down every barrier between us. After a long silence, she nodded.


    "You''re going to need words, mate," I said, my voice deepening with the growl of my wolf. Her eyes widened, pupils dting in response. She bit her lower lip as I slid my hands down to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. We were still too far apart.


    She released her lip and, instead of yielding quietly, surprised me by pressing her mouth to mine. The kiss was full of passion—not hurried or frantic, but a quiet promise without words. She wanted me, she was with me, and she trusted mepletely.


    "Oh, for f*ck''s sake! Get a room! It''s bad enough I keep walking in on Ryker and Kennedy every five minutes," Be grumbled from somewhere behind us.


    I had no intention of obeying, but I whimpered softly when Greta pulled away just enough to call back, "Our room''s upied by guests. If you don''t like it, there''s a veryfy, empty room waiting for you." To drive her point home, she ground against me again, capturing my mouth with hers and moaning softly into the kiss. I was utterly helpless,pletely at her mercy, with zero concern for who might hear.


    "Fine, have it your way. But when an adorable four-year-oldes looking for you, don''t say I didn''t warn you." Be''s tone tried to sound lighthearted, but there was an edge to it.


    Before I could dwell on that, Greta stood and tugged my hand. I was puzzled when she bypassed the staircase and headed for the back door, but I wasn''t about to question her lead. She pulled me outside onto the patio, down a short flight of stairs to a small covered alcove tucked beneath the main house. Whoever designed the packhouse was a genius, making use of every natural level and crevice of the hillside. If I ever tried to describe the Oak Lake packhouse, I doubt I could make sense of it. There was even a waterfall on the opposite side of the rock face we were approaching, as if it appeared from nowhere.


    I spotted Greta''s destination—a wide hammock swing nestled as far back against the rock wall as possible. She wordlessly pulled me in front of her, a mischievous smile ying on her lips.


    I knew right then that I was going to enjoy this swing far more than I expected.