“Good. I don’t want easy. I want to earn it—earn her trust, and yours too. No matter what it takes.”
She studies me for a long moment. “You seem… different now.”
“I’m trying to be. To be worthy of you.” I hold her gaze, letting her see everything—the regret, the longing, the desperate need to make things right. “I want to show you I can be a good mate to you, Aurora. That there’s no reason to destroy our bond, because… because it’s meant to be.”
“Kieran…”
“I know,” I say quickly. “I know I have to prove it. Actions, not words.” An idea strikes me. “Will you stay here? I want to try something.”
I find her still training when I return an hour later, grocery bags in hand. She eyes them suspiciously. “What’s all this?”
“Dinner. I thought I could cook for you.” At her raised eyebrow, I add, “I’ve been learning from Treena, the pack’s cook who makes our meals. My father… he never taught me, but that’s no excuse now that I’m a grown man. It’s part of my ‘be a better person’ campaign.”
“Kieran McCade, you’re full of surprises.” A smile plays across her lips. “I never thought I’d see the day, especially since from what I remember, you lived off takeout food in high school. You really cook now?”
“I’m learning,” I repeat. “Although fair warning, I may need supervision to avoid burning down Pack Opal’s guest house or poisoning us both. Yesterday I burned a hot dog in a pot of water.”
That startles a laugh out of her—a real one, not the guarded chuckles I’ve been getting. The sound makes my heart soar, and I start to feel something like hope.
She follows me inside, watching curiously as I unpack ingredients. “What are you making?”
“Pasta carbonara. It’s the first thing I learned to make properly.” I start chopping garlic, trying to remember theinstructions Treena gave me. “Will you tell me more about your life in the outskirts? I want to know everything I missed. I want to knowyou.”
As I cook, she tells me about living with Dana, learning to fix her motorcycle, working at the bar. Each story shows me more of who she’s become—strong, independent, unafraid to stand up for herself. A woman and a warrior through and through, possibly the best of us.
“I was so wrong,” I say softly as I plate the pasta. “About everything. You never needed a wolf to be strong.”
“No,” she agrees. “I didn’t.”
We eat in comfortable silence. I watch nervously as she takes her first bite, then relax at her surprised hum of appreciation.
“This is actually good.”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” I tease. Then, more seriously, “I want to know everything about your life, Aurora. Not just the big things, but the small ones too. Your favorite drink at the bar. What you like to do on your days off. How you take your coffee in the morning. Your hopes, your dreams… all of it.”
She looks up at me, fork paused halfway to her mouth. “Why?”
“Because I love you.” The words come easily now, even though I’m scared of how she’ll take them. But I can’t keep letting my fear rule me, not after everything it’s cost us. “All of you. Not just the parts I thought I wanted, but everything that makes you who you are. Including your friendship with Dana, your independence, your life in the outskirts. I want to be part of that life—if you’ll let me.”
“Even if Dana tries to murder you on sight?”
“Even then.” I meet her eyes steadily. “I’ll win her over. Might take years, but I’m prepared for that. She’s important to you, so she’s important to me.”
Something soft flickers in her expression. “You really mean that, don’t you? You’re not just saying it.”
“I really do.” I reach across the table, not quite touching her hand, my heart racing. “I know I have a lot to prove to you. But I’m not going anywhere, Aurora. Whatever it takes, however long it takes—I’m here. To make things right between us, for good this time.”
She doesn’t take my hand, but she doesn’t pull away either. It’s a small thing, but it feels like progress. My wolf makes a noise of appreciation, the two of us finally on the same page.
“The pasta really is good,” she says finally.
“Wait until you try my pancakes,” I tell her. “I even figured out how to get them out of the pan and onto a plate instead of the floor.” Aurora rewards with another small laugh, and the warmth in my chest spreads, so much stronger than the ache of the broken mate bond.
Later, as I clean up while she rests on the couch, awareness prickles on the back of my neck. Turning, I catch her watching me with an unreadable expression. She meets my eyes and just stares for a long moment, saying nothing.
“What?” I glance around. “Am I cleaning the dishes wrong? Did I get some pasta sauce on my pants?”
“Nothing like that. Just trying to reconcile this you with the you I knew before.” She yawns, the late hour and training catching up with her. “It’s… different. You’re different.”
