"Good thing you didn't have to," Garrett rumbled, and I felt rather than heard the satisfaction in his voice.
"I'm never moving," Levi declared. "We live in this greenhouse now. All five of us. Forever."
"That seems impractical," Micah observed, but he didn't let go either.
Eventually, we untangled ourselves—reluctantly, with much protest from Levi, and they gave me a proper tour. Every detail had been considered. The cedar shelving, chosen for its natural resistance to rot. The adjustable fixtures that could accommodate plants of any size. The corner dedicated to seed starting, with heat mats and grow lights and a misting system. The small refrigeration unit for storing seeds and bulbs over winter.
By the time the tour was complete, the afternoon had faded into early evening. Levi had wandered off to start dinner, dragging Micah with him despite protests about optimal stirringtechniques. Garrett had gone to check on something in the main house, leaving Oliver and me alone in the greenhouse.
We sat on the bay window bench together, watching the sun sink toward the horizon through the glass. His arm was around my shoulders, my head resting against his chest, and for a long moment, neither of us spoke.
"There's something I want to talk to you about," Oliver said finally, his voice careful. "Not now, necessarily. But... soon."
I lifted my head to look at him. "That sounds ominous."
"It's not. At least, I hope it's not." He shifted slightly, and I could feel the tension in his body—nervousness, I realized, which was unusual for Oliver. "It's about... the next step. For us. For the pack."
My heart stuttered. "The next step?"
"Marking," he said quietly. "Mating. Making this official in every way." His green eyes found mine, earnest and vulnerable. "I'm not asking for an answer now. I'm not even really asking the question yet. I just... I want you to think about it. When you're ready."
Marking. Mating. The words sent a shiver through me—not fear, exactly, but something close to it. The weight of permanence, of a bond that couldn't be undone.
"I..." I started, then stopped, not sure what I wanted to say.
"You don't have to say anything," Oliver said quickly. "I meant what I said—I'm not looking for an answer. I just wanted to put it on the table. So you know it's something we want, something we've talked about." He paused. "Something we've wanted for a while, if I'm being honest."
"All of you?" I asked, looking at him with a shy look as my heart was beating so fast I thought it would come out of my chest.
"All of us." His thumb traced circles on my shoulder. "But there's no rush. No timeline. No pressure. When you're ready—ifyou're ever ready—we'll be here."
I was quiet for a long moment, letting the words settle. Marking. Mating. Being theirs in every possible way, bound together by more than just words and feelings. It should have terrified me. A month ago, it would have sent me running. But sitting here in the greenhouse they'd built for me, surrounded by evidence of their love and care and patience...
"I'll think about it," I said finally. "I can't promise anything yet. But I'll think about it."
Oliver's smile was like the sun coming out. "That's all I'm asking." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Take all the time you need."
"And if I decide I'm not ready? If I need more time, or if I'm never—" I asked, hesitantly. I didn’t know when I would be ready, but I wanted to be.
"Then that's okay too," he interrupted gently. "You're a pack, Daphne. With or without a mark. That's not going to change." I searched his face for any sign of disappointment, any flicker of pressure beneath the words. There was none. Just steady warmth and a patience that still amazed me, even after everything.
"Okay," I said softly. "I'll think about it." He pulled me closer, and I let myself sink into his warmth, watching the last of the sunlight paint the greenhouse gold.
Chapter Forty-Six
Daphne
Ifound Micah in the greenhouse three days later, alone. It was early evening, the sun hanging low and golden through the glass panels, and I'd come out to check on the seed trays I'd started the day before. I hadn't expected to find anyone here—Oliver was in his office handling pack business, Garrett was working on repairs to the back fence, and Levi had gone into town for groceries.
But there was Micah, crouched near the control panel by the door, tablet in hand, making minute adjustments to something I couldn't see. He looked up when the door opened, and something flickered across his face, surprise, quickly masked by his usual composed expression. "Daphne. I didn't realize you were coming out here."
"I wanted to check on my seedlings." I stepped inside, letting the door close behind me. The air was warm and humid, rich with the smell of soil and growing things. "What are you doing?"
"Calibrating the humidity sensors." He turned back to the panel, fingers moving across the tablet screen. "The readingswere slightly off this morning. I wanted to make sure the system was functioning optimally before the overnight cycle."
Of course he did. That was so perfectly Micah, noticing a minor discrepancy and immediately setting out to fix it, even when no one asked him to. I moved past him to check on my seed trays, running my fingers over the damp soil. The tomato seeds wouldn't show signs of life for another few days, but I liked checking anyway. There was something hopeful about it—trusting that something was happening beneath the surface, even when I couldn't see it.
"You don't have to do that, you know," I said without looking up. "Take care of the greenhouse, I mean. It's supposed to be my space."
