Chapter 26 Chapter 26
The morning sun spilled through the curtains in gentle gold streams, warming the room. Zarlia stirred first, blinking at the light. The soft sound of the waves outside was enough to pull her out of bed. For a long moment, she just stood there at the window, smiling faintly at the view — the endless blue horizon stretching as far as her eyes could see.
Then she turned toward the bed. Stetson was still asleep, his arm draped carelessly over the pillow where she’d been moments ago, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. He looked almost peaceful like this — no frown, no tension, none of the weight that usually darkened his gaze.
“Stetson,” she whispered, poking his arm. No response.
She tried again, shaking his shoulder this time. “Stetson, wake up.”
He groaned, eyes fluttering open halfway. “What time is it?”
“Morning,” she said with a grin. “Perfect weather for the beach.”
He rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly, watching as she twirled around the room like an excited child. She wore a pale blue sundress that swayed around her knees, her hair neatly braided over her shoulder, her straw hat tilted slightly to one side, and a pair of sunglasses resting on her nose. The sunlight caught on her lips as she smiled down at him.
“Come on,” she urged, tugging at his hand. “You promised we’d go today.”
He sighed, though the faintest smirk curved his mouth. “It’s six in the morning Zarlia”
“Exactly, perfect time to head to the beach.”
He finally got up, throwing on a white tank top and grey shorts. She’d already packed a picnic basket, filled with sandwiches, fruit, and a few drinks — things she’d prepared before he was even awake.
“Zarlia,” he said as she practically dragged him toward the door. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” she interrupted, her tone soft but sure.
And before he could protest further, she was leading him outside, laughter on her lips.
The beach was calm that morning, scattered with a few early visitors walking along the shore. The air was warm and sweet with the scent of salt and breeze. Zarlia slipped off her sandals, her bare feet sinking into the cool sand as she ran forward.
“Come on, Stetson!” she called, her laughter echoing.
He followed, slower, more composed — the picture of control next to her carefree joy. But even he couldn’t stop the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he watched her run toward the waves.
She stepped into the water, squealing when it lapped at her feet. Then, mischievously, she bent down and splashed water in his direction.
Stetson blinked, droplets clinging to his shirt. His brows furrowed.
“Zarlia,” he warned, his tone low.
She only giggled, splashing him again.
He stared at her — really stared. The sunlight caught her face, her laughter filling the air, her eyes sparkling like the sea. And something inside him softened, breaking through the wall he’d built so carefully.
“You’re staring”, Asher murmured in his mind, voice dripping with amusement. “Might as well tell her she’s beautiful while you’re at it.”
Shut up, Stetson replied inwardly, but even the wolf could feel the warmth blooming in his chest.
Later that afternoon, they sat on a large towel spread over the sand, the picnic basket open between them. The waves crashed gently in the distance, seagulls crying overhead. Zarlia leaned back on her hands, her hat tilted upward, eyes half-closed as she smiled into the wind.
“Thank you,” she said suddenly.
He glanced at her. “For what?”
“For everything.” Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. “You didn’t have to bring me here. Or… do any of this. But you did.”
He looked away, brushing sand from his fingers. “You needed a break.”
“I needed you,” she wanted to say, but bit it back, swallowing the thought like a lump in her throat. Instead, she smiled faintly and said, “If I’m going to be your Luna one day…”
Her words trailed off when she saw his expression tighten. “Why haven’t you introduced me to your family?”
The question hung between them, fragile and heavy all at once.He looked like mentioning his families name was pouring sand into his drink.
He didn’t answer. His jaw flexed, eyes hardening slightly as he stared out at the ocean.
Her smile faltered. “Are you ashamed of me?”
Still, no answer.
“Say something”, Asher’s voice echoed sharply in his mind. “You’re breaking her heart, man.”
But Stetson remained silent, afraid that whatever words he said might wound her more than his silence ever could.
Zarlia had read a letter that asked Stetson if he had a strong Luna—he was an alpha after all so his Luna had to be someone just as powerful and not a weak human like her. She knew he had every right to be ashamed but somehow it still hurts. He may be too ashamed to go back to his pack with a human in his arms, he’d be a laughing stalk.
After a long pause, Zarlia forced a small laugh. “Forget it. I ask too many questions, don’t I?”
He turned toward her, ready to speak — but she was already smiling again, pretending everything was fine.
“What’s your favourite colour?” she asked instead, eyes gleaming playfully.
He blinked. He had never thought of what his favourite colour was before, he had never looked at colours that way before but he had to say something.
“Blue. Am I right?” she giggled cheerfully, like she was sure blue had always been special to him, like something special had that colour—suddenly it struck him. The pair of cyan eyes stared curiously at him—her eyes.
“Yes, my favourite colour is blue” he finally agreed and she nodded, grinning. “It suits you. Strong, calm… a little cold sometimes.”
He found himself chuckling softly. “Then blue it is.”
Her grin widened. “Mine’s blue too.” He smiled faintly, staring into his favourite colour.
The rest of the afternoon melted away in sunlight and laughter. She asked him everything — favourite foods, childhood memories, the first time he ever shifted, how he handled fear.
And for once, he let her in, bit by bit.
He found himself smiling without realizing it, even laughing at her exaggerated stories. She spoke with her hands, her face lighting up with every word — describing her first birthday party like it was the grandest event on earth, or how proud she’d been the day she learned to ride a bike, falling a hundred times before finally getting it right.
Stetson leaned back on his elbows, watching her.
So, this was Zarlia when she wasn’t scared. When she wasn’t holding back.
The breeze tugged at her hair as she talked, her eyes shining with life, her laughter unguarded. She looked peaceful, a big upgrade from when he saw her crying her eyes out.
For the first time in years, Stetson felt something in his chest unclench.
She stopped mid-sentence when she heard him laugh — a real, genuine laugh, deep and rare. Her eyes widened slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Did you just laugh?” she asked in disbelief.
He smirked faintly. “Don’t get used to it.”
Her laughter filled the air again, bright and free, and Stetson couldn’t look away.
If anyone had told him months ago that the sound of a woman’s laughter could feel like home, he would’ve called them insane. But here he was — sitting on the beach, watching Zarlia smile — and for the first time, Stetson West didn’t want to be anywhere else.