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“You’re doing fine.”

I glance up at him. “You’re still inside me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re welcome.”

Still: it’s not solved. Not even close. I’ve got three other bonds still settling, a government agency likely compiling a file on my every exhale, and an alpha literally embedded in my body like a smug biological USB drive.

“You know I didn’t ask for this, right?” I say, my voice low.

“No,” he says. “But you didn’tnotwant it either.”

“I never wanted a pack,” I admit. “But… maybe that’s because I never knew it was something Icouldwant.”

“Right,” he breathes. “I thought it was bullshit, too.”

“I never wanted an Alpha, either. Not until I found the right one.”

His eyes flick to mine.

“And?”

I don’t blink. “I might have found them.”

The silence returns. Not cold this time, just… tentative. Like neither of us knows the next move.

I shift again, a little awkward with the knot still pulsing inside me.

“God- is this seriously going to last an hour?”

“If you keep talking,” he says flatly, “yes.”

I roll my eyes. “Charming.”

And for a flicker of a second - something like amusement ripples between us.

Wry. Dry.

Maybe even fond.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” I murmur. “The bond?”

He doesn’t speak, but it hums between us anyway.

Yes.

I close my eyes.

For now, it’s enough. Not easy. Not settled. Not perfect.

But enough.

*

I wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a very large, very determined truck. Possibly driven by a smug alpha.

Or four.

Everything aches. My thighs, my hips, my lower back - my soul feels like it did squats it wasn't emotionally prepared for. Even my eyebrows hurt. I don’t know how that’s anatomically possible, but here we are.

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