Chapter 173 Luca

Chapter 173 Luca
I used to think the heaviest thing my father ever handed down to me was the iron Alpha medallion, but I was wrong; it was the ledger of the pack’s grocery bills.

I sat at the massive oak desk in the study, three different spreadsheets open on my laptop while a mountain of receipts threatened to slide onto the Persian rug. Outside the high glass windows, the afternoon sun was hitting the pines, turning the needles a vibrant, sharp green, and the distant sound of the younger scouts running drills on the lawn filtered through the glass.

I took a slow breath, leaning back against the leather of the high-backed chair, and waited for the familiar, crushing weight of the pack’s demands to settle into my shoulders.

It never came.

Instead, a sudden, warm wave of absolute stillness rolled through my chest, cutting through the numerical chaos on the screen. A mile away, down at the high school, Aria was sitting in her AP English class. I could feel the exact rhythm of her breathing—calm, focused, with just a tiny flicker of amusement as she listened to whatever her teacher was saying. She wasn't even in the room, but her presence was a permanent anchor dug deep into the dirt of my soul.

My father had spent forty years running on raw adrenaline and paranoia because he was entirely alone at the top of the hill. He didn't have a mate to split the frequency. He didn't have a second heart to absorb the shockwaves of a hundred restless wolves.

The door to the study creaked open without a knock, and Mason walked in, his arms full of heavy cardboard boxes from the local hardware store and dropped them onto the floorboards.

"The new deadbolts for the northern outpost just arrived," Mason said, wiping a smudge of grease from his cheek with the back of his hand. "Damian says we need to re-verify the coordinates on the eastern fence line before the winter freeze sets in, but the scouts are refusing to move until they know if they’re allowed to bring the human tracking dogs from the valley sheriff's department."

A year ago, that sentence would have caused a three-hour argument about security breaches, pure bloodlines, and the danger of human exposure. My wolf would have been scratching at the back of my skull, demanding that I assert my dominance just to keep the perimeter from sliding into chaos.

"Tell them to use the dogs," I nodded. "If the sheriff is offering the resources, we take them. It saves our scouts from having to drop to all fours every time a deer crosses the line. We have a town to run now, Mason, not a secret society."

Mason stared at me for a second, a small, dry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and then left.

I closed the laptop, the numbers on the screen no longer looking like an enemy to be defeated. I stood up, stretching my shoulders until my joints popped, and walked out of the study. The Great Hall downstairs was completely transformed. The heavy iron bars that used to cover the lower windows had been removed, allowing the afternoon light to pool across the flagstones. In the kitchen, the scent of fresh coffee and cinnamon was completely replacing the old smell of damp wool and raw meat.

I walked out onto the wide stone porch just as the yellow school bus rumbled down the asphalt road at the bottom of the driveway.

The double doors of the bus folded open, and a handful of teenagers spilled onto the gravel. Some of them were wolves from the valley families, their movements entirely too fast, but they were walking shoulder-to-shoulder with the human kids from the track team. They were laughing, throwing empty water bottles at each other, their voices loud and entirely normal against the backdrop of the ancient forest.

And then, she stepped off the bottom step.

Aria was wearing her favorite oversized denim jacket over a simple black dress, her hair tumbling around her shoulders in messy, sun-streaked waves. She had her backpack slung over one shoulder, her hazel eyes instantly scanning the tree line until they locked onto mine. The moment our eyes met, the bond in my chest gave a violent, beautiful tug that nearly took the wind out of my lungs. The Alpha's Glow flared beneath my skin.

She didn't run up the hill, but her stride was entirely different than it had been when she first arrived in Silverpine. There was no hesitation in her boots. No fear. She walked up the stone steps like a girl who owned the mountain, her smile small but completely certain.

"How was the budget?" she asked, dropping her backpack onto the wooden bench by the door and leaning into my side without a single second of hesitation.

I slid my arm around her waist, my hand resting flat against the small of her back, pulling her close enough to breathe in the familiar scent of her lavender soap and old library books. The mate-heat flared between us, a beautiful current that instantly dissolved the last remnants of the morning's administrative stress.

"The budget is a disaster," I murmured against her hair. "Mason wants to buy three new trucks, and the elders are still complaining that the ceremonial sage smells too much like a kitchen spice."

Aria let out a laugh, her chest rising against mine. "Tell Marcus that if he wants the ancient sage, he has to go pick it himself on the northern ridge. He’ll shut up after the first mile."

I looked down at her, my thumb tracing the soft fabric of her jacket. The burden of leadership hadn't disappeared; the responsibilities were still massive, the war with the Reaper was still a scar on our history, and the future of Silverpine was still a complicated, high-stakes gamble. But as I held her, looking out at the pack that was finally learning how to live instead of just survive, I realized the truth.

The weight wasn't gone. I was just no longer carrying it alone.