Page 56 of Unclench Me Softly

They’re laughing, shaking out their limbs, stretching their backs, talking over each other about how it felt, how weirdly good it was, how light they feel now.

And I just stand there, heart pounding, throat raw, robe slightly askew.

Wondering how on earth I became the woman whose fake spiritual retreat has now actually awakened the wolf pack of my deepest, most chaotic desires.

And how I’m supposed to survive the rest of this week.

After the final howl echoes into the trees and someone, probably Asher, declares he feels “spiritually exfoliated,” we gather around the campfire for our Post-Howl Reflection Circle™.

There’s no fire, just a few ethically-sourced candles in mason jars and a bundle of sage smoldering on a log like the ghost of a disappointed aromatherapist. But the mood is right.

They sit around me in a loose circle, dirt-smudged and breath-warm, all in varying degrees of shirtlessness and serenity.

I lower the Staff of Embodied Return and speak softly.

“This is your space to reflect. What rose up for you during the howl? During your nesting? During the… primal crawling?”

There’s a beat of silence.

And then Jax leans back on his elbows, eyes on the trees. “I forgot what it feels like to make noise without expecting someone to shut me up.”

The group is quiet.

Even Miles glances at him like he didn’t expect that to come out of Jax Riot’s mouth.

“Same,” Asher murmurs. “I always felt like being loud made people uncomfortable. But today, it just felt… okay. Like the forest could handle it.”

“You know what else helped?” Jax adds. “The knee pads.”

Asher perks up instantly. “Right?! I thought people would think they were too much, but honestly? They changed the whole experience.”

“They’re very well made,” Miles says, adjusting his strap slightly. “I respect the craftsmanship.”

Seb grunts. Which is Seb-speak for “Yeah, I liked them too but I’ll never admit that out loud.”

I watch them talk, something warm blooming in my chest. This is the moment. The one I never saw coming.

Not just the emotional honesty, but the camaraderie. The way Jax doesn’t mock Asher, and Asher doesn’t apologize for caring. The way Miles is still Miles, but he’s participating. The way Seb hasn’t bolted. And the way Jonah…

Jonah’s watching them all. Silent.

But I can see the shift in his posture. The slight lean toward the group. The way his arms aren’t crossed for once. He hasn’t said anything yet, but I can feel it, he’s not just analyzing anymore. He’s in it.

Asher glances at me, eyes bright. “What about you, Bliss? What did you feel during your howl?”

I blink. Panic flutters under my ribs.

“Oh, you know,” I say. “Just… a lot. Some grief. Some old junk. Possibly a minor vocal injury.”

Jonah’s eyes are on me now. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t speak. Just watches. Like he’s heard something in my howl that I didn’t mean to give away.

I clear my throat. “Anyway. Thank you all for showing up today. For yourselves. For each other. And for your cubs.”

They nod. A few quiet smiles pass between them.

I think Jax fist bumps Seb, which should probably be illegal.

And then Asher, completely sincere, says, “We should do a group hug.”

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