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Dale's relief is immediate and visible, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders. "Whatever you need. I'll tell you everything I gave them, everything they asked about. I should have done that from the start instead of trying to manage this alone."

I spend the next hour extracting details, cross-referencing what Dale revealed against our existing strategy, and by the time I head back toward pack territory, I have a clearer picture of exactly how much Cross's people actually know and how much of our misdirection campaign might need adjustment. More importantly, I've arranged for Everett to quietly relocate Dale's sister and her family somewhere Cross's people can't easily find them, cutting off the leverage that pushed Dale toward betrayal in the first place.

I explain the situation to Zoey that evening, watching her expression shift through several emotions as I walk through what happened.

"You could have exiled him," she says once I finish. "Pack law would have supported that, probably expected it."

"I know."

"But you chose mercy instead. Protection for his sister, understanding for the fear that drove the betrayal." Something warm and thoughtful crosses her expression. "That's not the easy choice, Kellan. Punishment would have been simpler, cleaner. You chose something harder."

"Vengeance doesn't actually fix anything. It just satisfies anger while leaving the real problem, his sister's vulnerability, completely unaddressed." I settle beside her, still working through the weight of the day's decisions. "If I'd exiled him, Cross's people would have found another vulnerability to exploit eventually. Better to remove the leverage entirely and bring him back fully into the pack where we can actually protect his family properly."

"That's real leadership. Understanding that justice isn't always about punishment, sometimes it's about actually solving the problem that created the harm in the first place." She takes my hand, something admiring in her expression that settles warm in my chest. "I don't think most people would have handled that with as much compassion as you just showed."

"I understand fear driving people toward decisions they know are wrong. I've made my own version of that mistake more than once, choosing distance and isolation because I was too afraid to risk what closeness might eventually cost." I meet her eyes, something steady and certain passing between us. "Dale chose betrayal out of fear for his family. I understand that fear well enough to recognize it deserves compassion instead of just punishment."

"I love that about you. That even facing betrayal, you found room for understanding instead of just anger." She leans into me, warm and certain. "This whole fight keeps proving what kind of man you actually are, Kellan. Not just someone protecting his pack out of duty, but someone leading with genuine wisdom about what actually keeps people safe."

Her words settle something steady in me, confidence I haven't fully felt since this entire crisis began weeks ago. I've spent so much of my life uncertain whether I was actually capable of the kind of leadership my parents modeled, whether losing them so young left me equipped to handle exactly this kind of impossible decision. Tonight, watching Zoey's genuine admiration for a choice I made from instinct rather than certainty, I start believing maybe I've grown into more of that legacy than I usually give myself credit for.

Tomorrow, armed with Dale's information and a clearer picture of what Cross's people actually know, we adjust our strategy accordingly. Tonight, I let myself hold onto the steadier ground her faith in me provides, grateful for a partner who sees exactly who I'm trying to become and believes I'm already closer to it than I usually let myself believe.

23

ZOEY

We sit close on the cabin couch after dinner, the fire low, the mountain quiet outside. The coming fight sits at the edge of every thought, but neither of us lets it take the center of the room. Instead we talk about the future we want if we make it through. A quieter life. Mornings without schedules or cameras. A place that feels permanent. Kellan’s hand rests on my thigh the whole time, warm and steady.

“I want that with you,” he says. “Whatever it looks like. I choose it.”

“I choose it too,” I answer. “I’m here. Fully.”

The decision settles between us like something solid. We stand and move to the bedroom without hurry. Clothes come off between soft kisses and quieter words. He lays me down and takes his time with my body, mouth on my breasts, fingers sliding between my thighs until I am wet and open for him. When he finally settles over me his cock is hard and heavy, the base already beginning to swell.

I guide him to my entrance. He pushes in slowly. The thick head stretches me open. Inch by inch his shaft sinks deeper until the swelling knot presses against me. I breathe out and nod, the knot locking just inside, filling me completely. The sensation is intense and perfect. We stay joined, foreheads pressed together, simply breathing.

He starts fucking me with long, deliberate thrusts. His gray eyes stay on mine the entire time.

“You feel like everything I’ve wanted,” he murmurs.

“So do you.”

The pace stays unhurried at first. Deep. Steady. I feel every ridge and the firm pressure of the knot on every pass. Pleasure builds in a slow wave. He reaches between us and rubs my clit in firm circles while he thrusts. The dual sensation pushes me over. He keeps moving through it, drawing every pulse out of me until I am dripping and trembling.

He rolls us so I am on top without pulling out. The knot keeps us locked. I sink down even deeper and start to ride him with slow, rolling hips. His hands grip my waist, guiding me. I grind my clit against him on every downstroke. Another orgasm builds. When it hits I cry out and pulse around him again, the knot making the waves feel endless.

He sits up so we are chest to chest and starts thrusting up into me with more power. The new angle lets him drive deeper. The wet sound of our bodies joining fills the room. I dig my nails into his scarred shoulders and meet every stroke. He kisses me while he fucks me, the knot tugging deliciously with every movement.

“Harder,” I whisper. “I want to feel all of you.”

He gives me more. Controlled, powerful snaps of his hips that rock me against him. My breasts press against his chest. Creamy wetness coats his cock and leaks out around the knot. I come a third time, longer and deeper than the others, walls fluttering hard around him. He holds me through it, still moving, still locked inside me.

We shift again so I am on my hands and knees. He sinks back into me from behind in one long stroke, the knot seating deep. He starts with steady, powerful thrusts that rock me forward on the bed. One hand reaches around to rub my clit while the other steadies my hip. The dual stimulation is intense. I push back to meet every drive, taking him as deep as I can.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “Take me. You’re perfect like this.”

Pleasure coils tight again. I come hard around the knot, crying out into the pillow as my walls pulse and grip him. He keeps thrusting through it, the wet, filthy sound of our joining filling the cabin. Only when the last waves fade does he pick up the pace, fucking me with deep, deliberate force until his own release builds.