The front door swung open before they reached the porch steps. Sylvia Kincaid emerged, her silver hair elegantly styled, her smile wide and welcoming. Henry braced himself as his mother descended upon them.
“Oh my God! Ivy Bright!” she exclaimed, enfolding Ivy in an embrace before Henry could mount any defense. “How did we luck out in getting you as our son’s mate? We were beginning to think this one would keep you hidden away forever.”
“Mom,” Henry muttered, accepting his own hug with the stiffness of a man enduring necessary discomfort.
“Oh hush,” Sylvia chided, then turned back to Ivy. “I’m Sylvia, though I suspect you’ve figured that out. Come in, come in. Everyone’s already here.”
The warmth of the farmhouse enveloped them as they stepped inside. The familiar scents of home—pine furniture polish, simmering food, the faint woody musk that emanated from a household of bear shifters—washed over Henry. Despite his reluctance, something in him eased at being at home.
Leland Kincaid’s imposing figure appeared from the living room, his handshake firm as he greeted them. Though his hair had silvered like Sylvia’s, the Alpha of Timber Bear Ranch maintained the powerful physique and commanding presence that had defined him throughout Henry’s childhood.
“Son,” he said simply, his expression softening with genuine pleasure. “Good to see you.” His attention shifted to Ivy, his handshake gentler but no less sincere. “And you must be the woman who’s finally drawn our hermit from his cave.”
“It’s a cabin, not a cave,” Henry corrected automatically, earning a chuckle from his father.
“A distinction without much difference, the way you describe it.”
Before Henry could defend his living arrangement, his uncle Buck and aunt Maria entered from the kitchen. Buck’s solid, practical presence contrasted with Maria’s graceful movements, the two of them complementary in ways that spoke to years of partnership.
“About time you showed up for something besides birthdays and Christmas,” Uncle Buck said, clapping Henry on the shoulder with enough force to make a normal human stagger.
Maria smiled warmly at Ivy. “Don’t mind them. The Kincaid men communicate primarily through grunts and mild violence.”
From the dining room doorway, Uncle Jessie and his fox-shifter mate Dana appeared, Jessie’s face splitting into a mischievous grin that spelled trouble.
“Well, well,” Uncle Jessie drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “If it isn’t our resident forest troll, actually socializing. Hell must have frozen solid.”
“Play nice,” Dana admonished, before extending her hand to Ivy. “I’m Dana. We’re all dying to meet the woman who managed what we thought was impossible.”
Henry felt his shoulders inching toward his ears with each passing comment. Only Uncle Cyrus, observing from his position against the far wall with his mate Daisy at his side, offered a simple nod of understanding.
A squeal from the kitchen doorway announced the arrival of Joy. She bypassed Henry entirely, launching herself at Ivy with familiar enthusiasm.
“Finally!” Joy exclaimed, hugging Ivy tightly. “I thought it would take forever before he introduced you to the family! It’s crazy that the two of you lived on the mountain your whole lives and never ran into each other.”
“Fate works in mysterious ways,” Ivy said with a grin.
“Well, you can thank me,” Joy declared proudly. “I’m the one who finally dragged this caveman into the digital age. That phone I bought him for Uncle Leland’s birthday led directly to this moment.”
Henry felt heat creep up his neck as all eyes turned to him. “The mate.com profile was originally for your benefit, Joy.”
“Aren’t you glad you’re such a loyal cousin?” Joy replied with a satisfied smirk.
“Actually, I am,” Henry managed. “This woman is… my sunshine.”
“Dinner’s ready,” Sylvia announced.
The massive oak dining table that dominated the farm’s eating area had witnessed decades of Kincaid family meals. Platters of food made their rounds—roast beef, garlic mashed potatoes, fresh vegetables, warm bread that steamed when broken open. The familiar chaos of a Kincaid family dinner unfolded around them: Uncle Buck describing the latest timber harvest, Uncle Jessie recounting a mechanical emergency with the tractors, Uncle Cyrus offering brief updates about wildlife patterns on the north ridge.
Henry’s brothers, Logan and Mason, arrived slightly late, offering hurried greetings before taking their seats. Logan, who managed the ranch’s business operations alongside their father,immediately launched into a story about a difficult client, while Mason, responsible for the ranch’s veterinary needs, shared updates about a pregnant cow needing special attention.
Henry remained mostly silent, content to let conversation flow around him rather than through him, as was his habit at these gatherings. But he noticed how easily Ivy engaged with each family member.
“So Ivy,” Leland said during a lull in conversation, “Henry tells us you’re leading the new nature center project.”
“That’s right,” she confirmed, setting down her fork. “We’re creating an educational space where visitors can learn about Fate Mountain’s ecosystems and conservation needs.”
“Beautiful location for it,” Leland nodded. “Though there’s been some strange activity around that area lately.”
