"Go away," came Lila's muffled voice from within, thick with tears.
"It's Harper," she called softly. "Can we talk for a minute?"
After a long pause, the door opened slowly to reveal Lila's red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The girl looked fragile and angry in equal measure, her emotions as raw as her brother's had been moments before.
Without speaking, Lila turned and walked back to her bed, settling cross-legged on the rumpled covers with her arms wrapped defensively around herself. Harper followed, taking aseat on the edge of the mattress—close enough to offer comfort, far enough away to respect Lila's need for space.
"I have some news," Harper began carefully, "but it's not bad news."
Lila's head snapped up, her blue-gray eyes wary. "What kind of news?"
"I won't be your therapist anymore," Harper said gently, watching as Lila's face crumpled with fresh hurt.
"How is that not bad news?" Lila demanded, her voice breaking. "You're the only person who's actually helped me, and now you're leaving too?"
"I'm not leaving," Harper said quickly, reaching out to squeeze Lila's hand. "I've decided to stay here for a while and keep helping you if you'd like—but as your mentor and friend, not as a therapist doing a job."
Confusion flickered across Lila's features as she processed this unexpected development. "So you're staying, and you'll still help me work through things, but it won't be all structured and clinical?"
"Exactly," Harper confirmed with a smile. "We can talk whenever you need to, however works best for you. No appointments, no professional boundaries—just two people who care about each other figuring things out together."
"Okay," Lila said slowly as the tension left her shoulders. "But what about you and Dorian? He said you were his fated mate, so are you going to complete the bond and become his mate for good?"
Harper felt heat creep up her neck at the directness of the question, but she appreciated Lila's honesty. "I told him we could explore our connection, but I haven't agreed to completing the bond yet. I need to take things one day at a time."
A small smile tugged at Lila's lips. "Just like you told me to take things one day at a time."
"Yes, exactly like that," Harper laughed. "We both just need to take things one day at a time. But I'm glad I get to do it with you and Dorian."
"Me too," Lila said, her smile growing brighter.
"Perfect. Well, Dorian's picking up lunch for us, so I'll see you in a bit, okay?"
"Okay," Lila agreed, settling back against her pillows with something approaching contentment.
As Harper left Lila's room and made her way back downstairs, she marveled at how different everything felt now that she'd made her choice. The estate no longer seemed like a temporary refuge but the beginning of something permanent—a home she was finally brave enough to claim, a family she was learning to trust, a love that promised to heal rather than harm.
Maybe stepping into the unknown will be exactly what I need,she thought, remembering the passion and intensity of the night before.Maybe it's time to stop fighting destiny and start embracing it.
FOURTEEN
DORIAN
The scent of Harper still clung to Dorian's skin as he drove his truck down the winding mountain road into town. That intoxicating jasmine and rain blend along with the lingering warmth of their kiss made his chest expand with something he hadn't felt in eighteen years—pure, uncomplicated hope. For once, the world wasn't a weight he had to carry alone. Harper had chosen to stay. She'd looked at him, seen the wreckage of his control, and hadn't run. His wolf paced contentedly within him, pacified by her promise to explore the bond, even if it protested quietly at the delay in claiming her completely.
One day at a time,he reminded himself, flexing his hands on the steering wheel.
He could give her that. He could prove through every action, every protected moment, that she was cherished, not controlled. That this territory could be her home, and he could be her peace.
The town's main road should have been quiet in the early afternoon. Instead, a tense cluster of people gathered outside the diner, their postures rigid, their attention fixed on a confrontation at the center. Dorian's relief evaporated as his gaze locked on the three figures causing the disturbance.
Ronan Vex stood with his usual predatory stillness, flanked by his Beta and Gamma—the same two wolves Dorian had torn into last night. Both men sported fresh bandages and a stiffness that spoke of punishment received. And facing them, hands raised in placating gestures were Dorian's grandmother Evelyn and his Beta Marty.
Dorian killed the engine and stepped out of the truck. The air changed as he moved—pack members nearby instinctively straightened, some stepping back to give him clear passage. His boots cracked against the pavement with deliberate force as he crossed the distance to the gathering.
"What's the problem here?" Dorian's voice didn't rise, but it carried, cutting through the low murmur of the crowd.
His grandmother turned, her silver-white hair catching the light. "A misunderstanding. We were handling it."
