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“So can you.” His breath warms my neck. “I’m right here and you’re safe.”

I look at Pepper, asleep with her cheek on my arm, then at Theo’s hand covering hers over my heart.

The spring took me apart in ways I still don’t understand. Pepper made a place soft enough for me to come back to myself. Theo held the edges while I found the middle.

I listen to the soft sounds of rain, Theo’s breathing, and Pepper’s little sleepy sigh against my skin. The road can keep its secrets until morning, because tonight my pack showed me the way home.

Chapter 21

Pepper Vines

Morning comes bright enough to feel invasive. After a night of rain, the cemetery gleams in wet green layers beyond the bedroom window. Sunlight catches on every blade of grass, every cypress knee, every drop clinging to the dock rail. The channel moves below with its usual dark shine.

Ezra sleeps with his hand over mine. Theo is already awake behind him. I know because his thumb moves over Ezra’s stomach every few minutes, slow and absent, as though he’s checking that Ezra is still there. I’m curled in front of them both, one of my legs trapped under Ezra’s, my cheek pressed to his arm.

His body stayed solid all night. That fact sits in my chest like a tiny, stubborn miracle.

“Feed is clear,” Theo says quietly.

I lift my head. “You checked?”

“Yes.”

“From bed?”

“Yes.”

I kiss Ezra’s shoulder before easing my hand free. Ezra makes a sleepy sound and drags my hand back against his chest. I look at him too long.

He cracks one eye open. “Careful. You’re giving me that face again.”

“What face?”

“The one where you look like you’re afraid I’ll evaporate if you blink too hard.”

My throat tightens because he’s right.

Theo’s arm firms across him. “She’s allowed.”

“She is,” Ezra says. “I’m also allowed to object.”

I press a kiss to his mouth. It starts gentle, but his hand slides into my hair and keeps me there another breath. When I draw back, his eyes are clearer than they were last night.

“We should stay home,” I say, even though the words scrape on their way out.

Ezra looks past me to the notebook on the nightstand, where my list waits beneath the water glass. “No.”

I look toward the doorway and mentally inventory what Darwin needs before we leave. Test strips. Evidence sleeves. Snacks.

“You want to go,” I say.

“I want to help.”

“Theo?”

Behind Ezra, Theo sighs. “Pack Darwin.”

I kiss them both before either man can reconsider.