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Dean’s words shook the very core of me. Tears came before I could even attempt to stop them. The entire weight of the situation made me step back.
“Jillian, what’s wrong? If you don’t like it, we can change it. We just thought…” Creek closed in on me. Once he touched my hand, my wolf submitted to his being around and calmed.
I patted my body and realized I’d left my whiteboard in the truck. So I did the best I could. I reached for words and tried my damnedest to mouth them.
I…love…it.
Dean and Shane swarmed me, joining Creek. “Are you sure? We can make changes. Nothing is set in stone. Gods, please don’t cry. You’re breaking me, mate.”
It was Shane who spoke those endearing words and I took each of them to heart.
Dean turned around. He was as touched as I was. This was his project. The thing he’d been working on without me knowing, all of them had.
I was important to them beyond the spoken word.
“At least come inside and see everything. We can make a list of what you don’t like and decide from there. If you see it and you hate it, then we can go back to the cabin, and we won’t speak another word about it for the rest of our lives.”
The tears couldn’t be stopped. My mates brought me inside and, even if I could speak, I doubted the words would have come. The place was immaculate. It honestly gave the kingdom a run for its money.
Natural accents all over the place reminded me of the cabin. Some walls had horizontal lengths of wood burned to show their natural accents and grooves. The kitchen could house all four of us cooking at once, even with Shane burning most of it.
“Can we give you the tour, mate?” Dean asked.
I nodded and took his hand. The others were letting him take the lead on this since this whole thing had been his baby.
That meant that the whole time I assumed he was brushing me off, he was actually planning for our future.
It filled in all the empty spaces I thought forever hollow.
We went through the house, and I marveled at how much thought Dean had put into it. The common living areas were generous in size, but each of my mates had his own personal space with a private bathroom. The bedrooms were big enough to house their own sitting areas so each mate felt at home.
“So those are our bedrooms. It’s time to show you yours.”
We walked up the stairs, and I had to hang onto Dean’s hand for dear life. My bedroom took the cake. The walls were painted in a mural that almost exactly replicated the view outside my bedroom window at the cabin. The four-poster bed had sheer curtains around it, and in the corner was a fireplace that mimicked the one at the cabin, crooked bricks and all.
I was in heaven, and my mates had crafted it for me.
I picked up a whiteboard from the dresser and showed it to them after writing my thoughts.
“Are you sure you love it?” Dean stepped forward, a smile on his face.
I nodded.
Shane smiled and elbowed Creek. “Welcome home, Jillian. Welcome home to all of us.”
Epilogue
Dean
I nearly lost the best thing to ever happen to me, and, as it turns out, two more of the best things. My mate, Jillian, and my brothers Shane and Creek are what make my life rich and worth living. The few bits of awkwardness between us faded when the pack came together to build our home. We now have privacy when we need it, but we spend a lot of time together in the main areas of the house. We cook and eat together, watch movies and talk, share our days over meals. We also share our joys and sorrows.
Just because we’ve found peace and love doesn’t mean life is perfect. I didn’t tell Jillian right away that my parents were less than happy about my reopening old wounds, and with that level of tension, I chose not to tell them about my wolfiness. I had done some records’ checks because I wondered if I was adopted, but if I had been, it was hidden well. The alpha just thinks it was a recessive gene they both carried, and one day we’d have to take that up with them. For now, they just thought I was working on a farm and taking a gap year from college.
They knew it started suddenly but tried to tell themselves that it was stress from school that caused it. One day, when they were ready, I’d tell them everything, introduce them to my mate and the others, maybe even show them my furry side.
I did have something joyful to share that might make the difference in their acceptance of what they probably would call my “alternative lifestyle” relationship. My parents would not be able to turn away from a grandchild. Off Jillian’s room was an alcove perfect for the baby when he or she was tiny.
I wondered if the little one would have something of each of us, just like Wendi’s baby. We’d know soon enough. And since Janis, Jillian’s sister, had refused to allow her to give up her title of princess, our little one would also carry the title of their mother’s line. A literal prince or princess of a realm.
But Jillian would still be our queen.
Always our queen.
