North’s POV

The garden was quieter this time.

Morning dew still clung to the leaves, tiny beads of light catching on the grass like forgotten stars. The breeze was soft, carrying the scent of earth and something sweeter—jasmine, maybe. I hadn’t noticed it last time. I’d been too braced. Too afraid of breathing wrong.

Now…

Now I was sitting in the grass with a half-circle of tiny wolf pups sprawled around me like living warmth.

One had climbed into my lap and promptly fallen asleep, paws twitching. Another had decided my boot was a worthy opponent and was currently locked in a silent, floppy battle with it. The others were chasing a leaf that Dao kept blowing across the lawn with exaggerated breaths.

Phoon had brought a basket of snacks again—smaller this time, shaped like stars—and the pups kept pausing mid-play to run up and take one before scampering off again like squirrels.

I couldn’t stop watching them.

So soft. So trusting.

They didn’t flinch when I moved. Didn’t shrink from my scent. One had even licked my palm like I was just another sun-warmed patch of safety.

I didn’t understand it.

But I didn’t want it to stop.

“You’re really good with them,” Easter said from nearby, curled on a picnic blanket like a lounging cat. His voice was soft, like he didn’t want to startle the peace. “They like you.”

“I haven’t done anything,” I said quietly, brushing a stray leaf from the pup in my lap.

“They know you’re safe,” Dao said. “They don’t need more than that.”

Phoon popped a dumpling into his mouth and pointed at me with one finger. “Also, you smell like Johan. Which helps.”

I flushed. “I—what?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Phoon said brightly. “It’s like ‘oh, this one’s part of the alpha’s heart, let’s nap on him.’ That’s all.”

Dao rolled his eyes. “Ignore him.”

Easter leaned in slightly. “No, but really. You’re different today.”

I glanced at him.

He tilted his head, gaze gentle. “You’re… softer. Still guarded, yeah, but not brittle. Like you’re finally letting the air in.”

“I…” I hesitated. My fingers curled reflexively around the edge of my sleeve. “Maybe.”

Maybe they were right.

Maybe the knots inside me were loosening—just a little—because when one of the pups sneezed and tumbled into my arm, I didn’t flinch. I just caught him gently and tucked him close.

He yawned.

I smiled.

Phoon let out a quiet sigh. “You’re so cute it’s starting to hurt.”

“I’m not cute,” I muttered, ears burning.

Dao passed me a moonmilk biscuit. “You are when you’re not trying to disappear.”

I opened my mouth to argue—

And stopped.

A shiver crawled across the back of my neck. Sudden. Fleeting. Like the air had shifted for half a second.

Like something was watching me.

My eyes darted instinctively to the hedges. The edge of the manor. The trees.

Nothing.

No scent. No movement. Just light and wind and the smell of grass.

You’re imagining it, I told myself. Just a leftover instinct.

Still, I glanced down at the pup in my lap. He was still sleeping, utterly undisturbed.

Dao noticed the pause in my movement. “Something wrong?”

I shook my head, slow and careful. “No. Just a… breeze.”

He didn’t push. Just nodded, and turned back to teasing Easter about the snacks.

And I…

I let it go.

Pushed it down. Whatever it had been—phantom or wind or memory—it was gone now.

So I stayed.

I stayed when one of the pups woke and tried to climb my chest. I stayed when Phoon threw a piece of fruit at Dao and missed, hitting me instead. I stayed when Easter leaned his head on my shoulder and whispered, “You’re doing so well.”

They stayed too.

Around me. With me. Like pack.

And maybe—

Maybe that’s what I’d needed all along.

Not to be left alone in silence, but surrounded by this kind of chaos. This kind of warmth.

A place where I could hold something small and trembling in my lap, and not have to be afraid it would mirror me.

A place where I could be held, even when no arms were around me.

Dao stretched, yawning. “You know, I think the pups like you more than us.”

“Obviously,” Phoon said. “They have taste.”

“They trust him,” Easter said, softer. “He doesn’t even try to hide his heart.”

That made me flinch.

“I’m not—”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Easter said again. “We’re not saying it to tease. You’re honest, North. Even when you’re afraid. That’s rare.”

The words settled somewhere low in my ribs.

I didn’t reply.

But I stayed.

And when the pup in my lap finally woke up, yawned, and butted his tiny forehead into my chest like a second heartbeat—

I let him.

_______

Johan’s POV

I found him by instinct more than sight.

His scent—moon-sweet with a faint spike of dumpling sugar—floated on the breeze, guiding me past trimmed hedges and sun-warmed brick until the trees opened onto the pups’ enclosure.

There he was.

North sat cross-legged in the grass, the smallest pup asleep inside his cardigan, another gnawing playfully on his laces. Easter lounged nearby like a pleased cat. Dao half-dozed against a fence post. Phoon munched star-shaped biscuits and narrated pup theatrics to no one in particular.

And yet every line of my mate’s body said unguarded.

Soft.

Mine.

A growl ghosted in my throat—quiet, involuntary. The pup on North’s boot lifted its head, ears perking; North followed its gaze—straight into me.

He stiffened at once, shoulders rising, mouth parting on a silent inhale. Not fear, precisely. But bracing.

It speared something deep and primal in my chest.

I moved.

Across the grass, boots tasting dew, every step deliberate. The omegas glanced up—

“Alpha incoming,” Phoon sing-sang, completely unfazed.

Easter grinned. Dao just sighed, resigned.

I crouched beside North. His pulse fluttered in his throat; I could see it. He opened his mouth to greet me, maybe to apologize for being out here—always so ready to apologize—

I didn’t let him.

One hand slid behind his nape, the other securing his waist, and I pulled him into me—slow enough that he could stop me, firm enough that he knew I wouldn’t be denied. His palms braced my chest, a reluctant barrier.

“Johan—wait,” he breathed, cheeks flaming. “Everyone’s—”

“Looking?” I murmured against his hair. “Let them.”

Because my wolf was howling.

He smelled of crushed clover, warm fur, soft starch. I’d given him one garden, and he’d filled it with laughter.

I needed to taste him.

I nuzzled the tender juncture of his neck—and he shivered, fingers twisting in my shirt like he didn’t know whether to clutch or push.

“Easy,” I rumbled. “I won’t hurt you.”

“But the pups—”

“The pups love you,” Easter called helpfully, shooing them back toward Dao with a whisper and a biscuit bribe. “Zero judgment here.”

North’s credibility dissolved in a mortified squeak.

I tipped his chin; he resisted a fraction, then let me guide him. Silver-rimmed eyes wide, mouth parted.

“My wolf wants,” I said, chest buzzing with leashed electricity. “Let me?”

A heartbeat—two.

He nodded once, tiny, terrified.

I closed the distance

His lips were cool at first—uncertain petals pressed to mine. I breathed him in, tasting sweet rice on his breath, the faint metallic hint of nerves. My mouth coaxed, shaping gentle pressure until resistance softened beneath heat.

North gasped, lips parting; I seized the invitation, sliding my tongue along the seam—slow, savoring the quiver that shuddered through him. He inhaled sharply, and I swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss by degrees my fingers spreading at his nape, massaging the fine hairs, my other hand slipping beneath his cardigan, spanning the small of his back and the quiet rumble in my chest answering the tiny whimper lodged in his throat.

He tasted like moonmilk and soft sugar; like something fragile I wanted to worship and devour in equal measure. His initial shock melted into trembling curiosity—mouth fluttering, tentative, learning the shape of mine. Every uncertain brush sent sparks skittering down my spine.

I angled him closer until his knees bumped the grass and our torsos aligned—heart to heart. His palms, once barriers, slid upward, fisting my collar as if afraid I’d vanish. The scent of his rising desire—delicate citrus-rain—spilled into my lungs, dizzying.

I broke away only when his breath hitched too high. We parted a hairsbreadth, foreheads touching, breaths mingling.

North’s eyes were wide, lashes trembling. “I—” His voice cracked. “I don’t know how to—”

“You did perfectly,” I whispered, brushing my thumb across his damp lower lip. It trembled against the pad.

Behind us, Phoon exhaled an exaggerated finally. Dao smacked him. Easter made a soft, awed sound, half-laughter half-sigh. The pups yipped, sensing charged energy but not fear.

North flushed crimson. He tried to bury his face in my shoulder; I let him, arms circling fully, holding him where everyone could see—unashamed.

Because the world needed to understand:

He was chosen.

He was cherished.

He was mine.

And I’d set the sky on fire before letting him doubt it again.