Page 39 of To The Final End
“All of us,” I say. “Together.”
The night holds the words.
And for the first time in a long time, I let myself think about where I came from. About going back to the beginning. About being whole enough, finally, to embrace it.
Chapter 11
Bree
I can’t sleep.
I’ve tried everything. Counting Jace’s snores—he’s up to forty-seven. Mentally listing all the ways Gray’s leg is cutting off circulation to my foot. Wondering if Wes knows he’s drooling on my shoulder or if it’s an unconscious talent he’s perfected over time.
None of it works.
My brain keeps circling back to tomorrow. The house. The attic. The door with the swirling mark that started everything.
I give up around 3 AM.
Getting out of bed is its own challenge. Wes has basically fused himself to my left side. Gray’s arm tightens when I try to slip free, some wolf instinct even in sleep that doesn’t want to let me go. Rhett grumbles something that might be my name or might be a complaint about the temperature. Hard to tell.
It takes me five full minutes to extract myself without waking anyone. A new personal record.
I grab Rhett’s hoodie from the chair—the sanctuary learned months ago to keep a rotation available—and slip into the hall.
The garden. I don’t plan to go there. My feet just… do.
My daisies chime as I pass, catching moonlight. The trees are shadows against the sky. The air smells like jasmine and old magic and something that tugs at my chest.
The wall.
I stop walking.
Same stone. Same spot where Thane pressed me back and kissed me like I was worth something. Where I wrapped my legs around him and chose him and felt, for the first time in my life, like wanting didn’t have to hurt.
My hand drifts to my throat before I can stop it. The bite mark healed months ago, but sometimes I swear I still feel it.
“Your thoughts are loud tonight.”
I don’t jump. My body knows him too well for that now.
Thane steps out from the shadow of the oak, pale in the moonlight. His shirt is half-buttoned, his hair loose around his shoulders. He looks like he dressed in a hurry to follow me.
He probably did.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I say.
“I noticed.” He taps his chest once. “The bond.”
Right. No secrets between us. Not the important ones.
“Sorry for waking you.”
“You didn’t.” He moves closer, stops a few feet away. “I wasn’t sleeping either.”
We stand there, looking at each other. Looking at the wall.
“Last time we were here—” I start.
