HARPER
The anticipation thrummed through Harper's veins as she stood in Lila's room, surrounded by the organized chaos of preparation. Makeup brushes scattered across the vanity, dress options draped over every surface, and the warm glow of the lamps perfectly installed by Dorian cast everything in a golden light that made the evening feel magical before it had even begun.
Two days of relentless preparation had transformed the town hall across town from a simple meeting space into something that belonged in a fairy tale. Harper had watched the pack come together with a unity she'd never witnessed before—stringing lights that twinkled like captured stars, arranging flowers that filled the air with their sweet perfume, and hanging banners painted by Lila and her friends' artistic hands. The cautious hope that had flickered in everyone's eyes during those preparations had grown into something radiant and unshakeable.
We did it,Harper thought, adjusting the delicate silver necklace at her throat.We helped them remember what it feels like to choose joy and live fully again.
The stories she'd heard over the past two days painted a picture of a community that had lived under Ronan's shadowfor far too long. Decades of fear, of cancelled celebrations, of children who grew up thinking vigilance was more important than laughter. But watching the pack work together these past days—seeing elderly wolves teaching teenagers traditional dances, couples stealing kisses while hanging decorations, children racing around with streamers—Harper had witnessed something profound. This town was reclaiming its right to happiness.
And Dorian was learning to let them.
The transformation in her Alpha had been as remarkable as the town hall's metamorphosis. She'd watched him gradually release his death grip on control, trusting his pack members with responsibilities he'd shouldered alone for eighteen years. The lines of constant tension around his eyes had softened and his shoulders no longer carried the weight of the world.
Tonight,Harper decided, smoothing her hands over the deep emerald silk of her dress,I'm going to tell him I'm staying permanently.
The decision had crystallized over the past few days like morning frost forming on windows—gradual, then sudden, then absolutely certain. This place, these people, this extraordinary man who saw straight through her carefully constructed walls—they'd become home in a way Harper had never experienced. Not just a temporary assignment or a professional obligation, but a place where her expertise mattered, where her compassionate heart could make a real difference, where she could finally stop running from connection and start building something lasting.
Her private practice in Oregon, her existing clients—those were problems for tomorrow. Tonight was about celebration, about embracing the happiness that had been so long denied to all of them.
"Harper, can you help me with this clasp?" Lila's voice pulled her from her reverie.
Harper turned to find Lila struggling with the delicate silver bracelet that had belonged to Lila's mother. The sight of the seventeen-year-old in her flowing blue dress, her dark curls pinned up to reveal the elegant line of her neck, made Harper's chest tight with emotion. This wasn't the withdrawn, frightened girl she'd met just a week ago. This was a young woman stepping back into her own light.
"Of course." Harper's fingers were steady as she worked the tiny clasp, though her heart was anything but.
Being an only child had meant missing moments like this—the sisterly rituals of getting ready for special occasions, sharing clothes and secrets and dreams. She'd never imagined how fulfilling it could be to help someone else feel beautiful, to be trusted with these intimate preparations.
"There," Harper murmured, stepping back to admire the bracelet's sparkle against Lila's wrist. "Perfect."
Lila turned to face the full-length mirror Dorian had installed in her room, and Harper watched the girl's face transform. The uncertain, fragile expression melted away, replaced by something radiant and sure.
"I actually feel..." Lila paused, searching for the words. "Pretty. Like myself again."
Harper had to blink back tears that would have ruined the careful makeup they'd spent the last hour perfecting. "You look absolutely stunning. But more than that, you look happy."
They'd spent hours getting ready together, and every moment had felt precious. Lila had chattered about her friends, about the boy she hoped would ask her to dance, and about her plans for college. Normal teenage concerns that had been buried under trauma for months. Harper had shared stories about her own awkward teenage years, about the dances she'd neverattended because her stepfather had made social events feel dangerous rather than fun, and about her college days chasing her dream to become a counselor to help others through trauma.
"Harper?" Lila's voice was softer now, more vulnerable. "Thank you again. For being here. For choosing to stay. For being the sister I never had."
The words hit Harper hard, sweet and devastating. She reached out to squeeze Lila's hand, careful not to smudge either of their nail polish.
"I love being here," Harper managed, her voice thick with emotion. "I love our bond that's forming. You've given me something I didn't even know I was missing."
The sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway made them both turn toward the door. Harper's pulse immediately quickened, her body recognizing Dorian's approach even through solid wood. The mate bond that had grown stronger each day thrummed with awareness, sending heat spiraling through her.
A firm knock echoed through the room.
"Are you two finally ready?" Dorian's voice carried that familiar note of amused authority that made Harper's knees weak. "Or do I need to reschedule the entire dance now?"
Lila rolled her eyes dramatically. "He's been pacing the hallway for twenty minutes like a caged wolf."
Harper laughed, the sound bright and unguarded. She could picture him perfectly—prowling back and forth, checking his watch, that barely contained energy that marked him as a predator even in a tailored suit. The mental image made her core clench with want.
"Let's put him out of his misery," Harper said, moving toward the door.
She pulled it open to find Dorian leaning against the doorframe, and the sight of him stole every coherent thought from her head. Gone were the work clothes and casual flannelsshe'd grown accustomed to. Instead, he wore a charcoal suit that had clearly been tailored to his powerful frame, the jacket emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders while the crisp white shirt made his blue eyes even more striking. His dark hair had been tamed into something approaching respectability, though she could already see where his fingers had raked through it.
He looked like sin wrapped in expensive fabric, and Harper wanted nothing more than to drag him back to his room and forget the dance entirely.
