“I’ll give it,” I say.
Wolf leans in, voice low. “I’m not leaving your side.”
I look up at him. His eyes are hard, but his touch is careful.
“I know,” I whisper.
Morris escorts Voss toward the door.
Voss turns his head just enough to look at me. The polite mask is gone. What’s left is ugly.
“This isn’t over,” he says.
Wolf steps forward half a pace. “It is.”
Morris pushes him out the door.
My lungs finally drag in a full breath.
Wolf’s hand tightens at my waist again.
“Let’s go back,” he says.
Back to the cabin. Back to safe.
Dad whispers my name behind me.
I don’t turn.
Wolf’s voice drops, only for me. “You don’t owe him anything.”
My throat tightens. “I know.”
This time, I mean it.
Wolf guides me to the door, his body between me and the past.
And I go.
Epilogue
Wolf
TwoYearsLater
Wolf’s hands are on the counter, braced like he’s thinking.
He does that sometimes. Stares out the window over the sink, jaw tight, shoulders broad.
My husband.
The word still feels like a victory.
I come up behind him and slide my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek between his shoulder blades. He smells like soap and smoke and something that’s his. Like home.
His body stills for half a second, then relaxes into me.
“Morning, angel,” he murmurs.
