Page 107 of Wolf's Providence

“Eamon’s scared the crap out of Doc,” Caleb said with a groan. “I bet he took him too close to the ridge.”

I hid my smile as he mumbled; it was so refreshing to see him like this. Unburdened.

“They always told me that your beta’s supposed to be the diplomatic one,” he grumbled at me, walking faster to meet them, with me hurrying beside him.

As the sun began to dip, our breaths were visible in the cool mountain air. Each step felt like it carried a weight—nota burden—but the kind of weight that reminded me of how far we’d come.

As Caleb greeted the others and scolded Eamon, who quite clearly didn’t care what his alpha said to him, I wrapped my arms around my midriff as I watched them all. Watched Caleb be the leader I always knew he could be as he explained his vision for the future to Ned, who was looking at the decimated hall with interest and was already asking him questions about rebuilding.

I was so proud of Caleb.

He must have felt my stare on him, because he turned his head towards me as Ned asked questions, and I saw the smile that Caleb had for me. Holding out his hand, he wordlessly beckoned me to his side, and I joined them.

Our journey to get here hadn’t erased the challenges, hadn’t wiped away the memories that haunted both of us. It hadn’t given us the illusion that everything would be simple or easy. But it had shown me, shown both of us, that we could face those things together.

We were stronger together.

Caleb stood beside me, tall and steady, with a calmness in his gaze that I hadn’t seen there before. There was no more wrestling with himself, no more push-and-pull between who he was and who he wanted to be. I could feel that certainty from him, a strength I knew wasn’t just his own but something we’d built together.

Eamon pulled Ned and Doc away from us as he explained the rebuilding, and I wasn’t surprised at all when I heard Ned and Doc volunteer to help.

Without a word, Caleb slipped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. I leaned into him, fitting perfectly against his side, and let out a sigh of contentment. For the first time in so long, I felt fully home.

“This is our life,” he said softly, speaking low, his voice carrying a warmth that matched the setting sun. He looked down at me, his eyes steady and sure. “Whatever it brings, we’ll face it together.”

I turned to meet his gaze, a smile tugging at my lips as I felt that promise settle, firm and deep. “Together,” I whispered back. “I love you so much.”

His breath caught, and he stared at me wide-eyed for a moment, before the most beautiful smile spread across his face, highlighting the dimple in his left cheek.

“Well now you’re never getting off this mountain,” he teased as he leaned down to kiss me.

That kiss—it was everything. It held our fears, our hopes, all the brokenness and beauty that had brought us here. It sealed the future we both wanted, the life we’d carved out that didn’t force us to choose one world over another. A life that held the wild freedom of his world and the quiet intimacy of mine.

A life that was, finally, ours.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared, wrapping us in the cool twilight, the world felt utterly peaceful, a silence filled with possibility. We stood together, watching the stars begin to pierce the darkening sky, knowing that whatever came next, we would face it as one.

Epilogue

The early morningsun spilled across the peaks, painting the rugged landscape in hues of green and gold. From where I stood, I could see the whole valley below—our valley. The wind carried the faint scent of pine and earth, the familiar grounding scent of home.

I could hear some of the pack already up and about. Doc had been right. When word spread that Caleb had presented himself to the Pack Council as alpha of Shadowridge Peak, the few who remained from before had returned.

Together they rebuilt their community, and not one of them had rejected me. They embraced me as the wife of their alpha.

Behind me, the cabin Caleb had built with his own hands stood tall, a blend of practicality and beauty, much like him. I smiled, feeling his presence before he even spoke.

“Lost in thought?” His voice was warm, and I turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, his hair tousled and his eyes soft in the light of dawn.

“Just thinking about how far we’ve come,” I said.

He stepped closer, his hand slipping around my waist. “Do you regret it?”

“Not for a second,” I said, my voice steady.

The bond between us wasn’t what it had been in the beginning, fraught with uncertainty and the weight of expectations. It had deepened, matured, becoming something more profound than either of us had imagined. We weren’t mates—our connection didn’t feel like destiny’s decree. It felt like a choice, one we made every day, to stand by each other, to fight for each other, to love each other.

And through that choice, something unexpected had grown.

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