Chapter 190
Miles's POV
The "Welcome to Silverbrook" sign appeared around the bend, weathered wood barely visible in the twilight. My hands tightened on the steering wheel.
Fifteen years. It had been fifteen years since I'd last seen this road.
Thaddeus stirred restlessly inside me, recognizing the scent of home even through the SUV's closed windows—white birch and mountain pine, clean snow-melt from the peaks. My wolf had been pushing at my control for the last fifty miles, desperate to run these forests again.
"Almost there," I murmured, more to myself than him.
My phone lit up with another message in the family group chat Marcus had created specifically for my return.
Marcus: We see your car! Ten minutes out!
Elena: Uncle Miles, the kids have been asking about you all day. Hope you're ready for chaos.
Mom: Drive carefully, sweetheart. We've waited this long, we can wait ten more minutes.
I blinked hard against the sudden sting in my eyes. Mom. God, I'd hear Mom's voice again in person, not just through a phone screen.
The old oak tree marking pack territory came into view, and my foot eased off the gas despite Thaddeus's urging. There were people gathered underneath it. A lot of people.
I pulled over, hands shaking.
The passenger door flew open before I'd even cut the engine.
"MILES!"
Marcus hit me like a freight train, yanking me out of the car and into a crushing hug. My young uncle—except he wasn't young anymore, was he? Gray threaded through his dark hair, laugh lines creasing his eyes.
"You're here," he choked out. "You're actually here. We found you. We finally found you."
"I looked everywhere—" The words broke in my throat. "Marcus, I looked everywhere—"
"I know. I know. We all did." He squeezed harder. "But you're here now. That's what matters."
I did, and fifteen years of loneliness cracked open in my chest.
Then they were all there—Mom crying and laughing simultaneously, Dad's weathered hands gripping my shoulders, Elena throwing her arms around my waist. The familiar faces blurred together through my tears.
But there were others. So many others.
A little girl—maybe five years old—tugged on my jacket. "Mama, who's this?"
Elena scooped her up, grinning through tears. "This is Great-Uncle Miles, sweetie. Remember? I told you about him. The one who got lost during the Big Move."
The child studied me with solemn amber eyes. "The one Grandma cries about sometimes?"
My heart clenched. "I—yes. That's me."
"Are you found now?"
"Yeah, sweetheart. I'm found now."
"Good. Grandma will be happy." Mia patted my cheek seriously, then squirmed down and ran off.
A teenage boy approached hesitantly. Tall, athletic build, Marcus's jawline. "Uncle Miles? I'm Thomas. Marcus's son. I was three when—when we got separated."
Three. He'd been three during the dispersal. Now he towered over me.
"Thomas." I gripped his offered hand. "Your dad sent pictures through the network, but—you're practically grown."
"Graduated high school last spring." Pride and uncertainty warred in his expression. "I'm starting at U-Dub next fall. Environmental science."
"That's—that's wonderful." I didn't know what else to say. I'd missed his entire childhood. Missed everything.
Twin girls appeared at his elbow, identical down to their matching grins. "We're Sophia and Sarah," one announced. "We're thirteen."
"Dad says you tried to find us for years," the other added solemnly. "That you never stopped looking."
The words made my throat tight. "I didn't. I never stopped."
"We're glad you found us," Sophia said simply. "Or we found you. However it works."
Mom appeared at my elbow, steering me toward the path into town. "Come on, sweetheart. Everyone's waiting."
"Everyone?"
"The whole pack." Dad's eyes twinkled. "When Marcus told us he'd made contact with you, we started planning immediately."
Silverbrook was both familiar and utterly foreign. I recognized the layout—the main street lined with log-front buildings, white birch wind chimes hanging from every porch. But everything looked different. Newer. This was their new home, the one they'd built after reaching Oregon without me.
I recognized old Mr. Harrison, the former Alpha, now snow-haired and leaning on a cane. Aunt Katherine waved from her porch rocker, tears streaming down her face. But there were so many young faces, teenagers and twenty-somethings who'd been born or grown up entirely during our separation.
They watched me with curiosity, these strangers who shared my blood. Polite. Welcoming. But not knowing me at all.
"Miles!" A woman about my age rushed forward—it took me a moment to place her. Jessica, Marcus's wife. We'd met exactly once, right before the dispersal.
"Jessica. Hi." I accepted her hug, marveling that she was here, real, alive.
"I'm so glad we finally found you. Marcus talked about you constantly. Never gave up hope." She linked her arm through mine, utterly comfortable. "Come on, I'll reintroduce you to everyone."
The next hour was a blur of faces. Cousins who'd been teenagers when we scattered, now with children of their own. Second and third cousins born during the fifteen years apart. Pack members who'd found their way to Oregon but had never known me.
As sunset painted the mountains gold, Dad stood and called for attention at the long tables laden with food.
"Family," he said, voice thick with emotion. "Tonight we celebrate a miracle. Fifteen years ago, we were forced to scatter. We lost many that night—some to the hunters, others to the chaos of dispersal."
His eyes found mine across the crowd.
"We lost Miles. For fifteen years, we searched. We hoped. We prayed. And now, through the grace of technology and the courage of two young wolves who believed scattered packs deserved a way to find each other—" he gestured to me, "—our son has come home."
The pack erupted in applause. I ducked my head, overwhelmed.
"Tonight," Dad continued, "we hold a moonlight ceremony. Not just to welcome Miles back, but to thank the moon for watching over him all these years. For keeping him safe until we could find him again."
---
The full moon rose enormous over the mountains as we gathered in a circle around the central bonfire. The ceremony started—traditional songs, shared stories, the passing of the moonlight cup. I was relearning the words to songs I hadn't sung in fifteen years when footsteps crunched on the path from the forest.
Everyone turned.
A young woman emerged from the shadows, backlit by moonlight. Mid-twenties, athletic build, chestnut hair in a practical braid. She carried a medical bag and wore hiking gear dusted with trail dirt.
Her amber eyes met mine across the circle, and the world stopped.
Mate. Thaddeus surged up, desperate and certain. MATE.
Oh God. Oh no. She couldn't be more than twenty-six. I was thirty-six, for Christ's sake—
"Sorry I'm late." Her voice was steady, professional. "Got held up at the clinic in Bellingham. Trauma case."
Mom beamed. "Miles, this is Vera Ashwood. She's our pack's new physician's assistant. Vera, this is my son Miles—the one we've been telling you about."
Vera crossed the circle, hand extended. "Nice to finally meet you. Your mom talks about you constantly. I've heard so many stories about the search."