Pack

Cian didn't have a phone, but he had a howl.

He stepped out onto the porch and let out a sound that shattered the morning silence—a long, rising note that echoed off the valley walls.

Within twenty minutes, the sound of engines filled the air.

Three black SUVs roared up the snowy track to her cabin. Men and women poured out, carrying crates.

Elara watched from the doorway, stunned, wrapped in her coat.

"Put the wood around back," Cian ordered, pointing to a stack of seasoned oak logs being unloaded from a truck bed. "And the groceries in the kitchen. Check the roof for leaks while you're up there."

"Yes, Alpha," the wolves chorused.

They moved with terrifying efficiency. In an hour, Elara’s wood box was full. Her cupboards were stocked with fresh meat, vegetables, and bread. A man was currently on her roof, hammering a shingle back into place.

Cian walked back onto the porch. He was wearing clothes now—jeans and a flannel shirt brought by one of his pack mates.

"This is... too much," Elara stammered. "I just fixed your leg. I didn't ask for a renovation."

"You didn't ask for anything," Cian corrected. "That's why you're getting everything."

He leaned against the porch railing, looking at her. The harsh winter sun caught the gold in his eyes.

"The pack takes care of its own, Elara."

"I'm not pack," she whispered, looking down at her worn boots. "I'm just a witch."

Cian stepped closer. He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up.

"You're the witch who saved the Alpha," he said. "You slept by my side through the storm. You shared your heat. You gave me your last resource."

He brushed a thumb over her cheek.

"You are pack now. Whether you like it or not."

Elara looked at the busy wolves, then back at Cian. For the first time in years, the knot of anxiety in her chest—the fear of the cold, the fear of hunger—loosened.

"I think I could get used to it," she admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Cian smiled back. It was a wolf's smile—sharp, possessive, and warm.

"Good," he said. "Because I still owe you for that chair. I'm going to build you a new one. A throne seems appropriate."

"A sturdy stool will do," Elara laughed.

"We'll see," Cian said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. "It's going to be a long winter, Elara. Let's go inside."

They walked back into the cabin, which was finally, truly warm.