Chapter 40 Return to the Fold
Five days had passed in the quiet gray cocoon of the safe house. The world outside moved on, snow melting into slush, city traffic humming below the windows, but inside, time felt suspended. Alexander had been gone most of each day, handling pack business and company fallout, returning late with tired eyes and the faint scent of pine and gun oil clinging to his coat. We’d barely spoken about the fight, about my shift, about the cryptic text I’d deleted and never mentioned. I wasn’t ready. Not yet.
The morning of the fourth day, I sat cross-legged on the gray couch, phone pressed to my ear, staring at the blank TV screen. Sophia’s voice filled the room, bright, teasing, the sound of normal life.
“Girl, you’ve been ghosting campus all week,” she said, laughing. “What’s the deal? Are you sick or just too busy being a newlywed?”
I forced a small chuckle, rubbing my temple. “Not feeling great, honestly. Been off all week, headaches, fatigue, the works. The doctor said it’s probably stress. I’m resting.”
“Stress? Or honeymoon glow?” Sophia teased, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Come on, Maddie. You can tell me. Is it the whole ‘married to a rich guy’ thing finally sinking in? “Wait dont tell me you guys are having real honeymoon, like fucking each other brains out” she said teasingly while laughing so hard. Or are you just hiding in a penthouse somewhere with room service and champagne?” I laughed genuinely this time, I can't tell her she's close to the truth but definitely not Ben. “I dont know which but if im you i’d fuck him too.”
I laughed, “Something like that, but not the fucking part. Let’s just say I needed a break from everything.”
“Uh-huh. Sure. Well, when you’re ready to grace us with your presence again, we miss you. And bring some of that married money for coffee runs.”
“Deal,” I promised. “Love you.”
“Love you more. Feel better, okay?”
I ended the call, setting the phone on the coffee table. The quiet of the apartment settled around me again, too quiet, too still. I rubbed my arms, a faint ache lingering in my muscles from the shift days ago. The memory of claws, fur, blood still surfaced in flashes, but I pushed it down. Not now.
The front door opened with a soft click.
Alexander stepped in, coat dusted with melting snow, hair slightly damp. He looked exhausted, shadows under his eyes, jaw tight, but when he saw me, the tension eased fractionally.
“Hey,” he said, voice low. He crossed the room, dropping onto the couch beside me and pulling me against his side. “How are you?”
“Better,” I lied, leaning into him. “Just talked to Sophia. She thinks I’m on some extended honeymoon.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Close enough.”
I tilted my head to look at him. “You’re back early.”
He nodded, fingers tracing idle circles on my arm. “Everything’s handled. The estate is secure again, renovation finished. Crews worked around the clock. Moonclaw’s been dealt with. We tracked the survivors to their den, ending the threat. No more immediate danger from them. Other pack issues, border disputes, rogue reports, resolved. I spent the last three days tying it all off.”
Relief washed through me, soft and warm. “So… we’re going back?”
“Today,” he confirmed. “Pack’s holding the perimeter. It’s safe. And I want you out of this place. It’s secure, but it’s not home.”
Home. The word hung between us, heavy with meaning. The estate, bloodstained marble, broken windows, claw marks in the walls, wasn’t home either. Not yet. But it was something. A beginning.
I nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He kissed my forehead, lingering, grateful, then stood, offering his hand. “Pack a bag. We leave in an hour.”
Packing was simple: the few clothes we’d bought, toiletries, my phone. Alexander moved through the apartment with quiet efficiency, checking locks, securing weapons, wiping down surfaces. No trace we’d ever been here.
The drive back was quiet. Snow had mostly melted, leaving the roads slick and reflective. Alexander drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh, a steady anchor. The bond thrummed between us, calm but alert, like a dog with ears pricked.
I stared out the window, watching the city give way to suburbs, then open land. The estate loomed ahead eventually, gates open, guards nodding as we passed. The mansion looked almost untouched from the outside: windows replaced, stone cleaned, snow cleared from the drive. But I knew the scars were there, under the fresh paint, beneath the polished floors.
Alexander parked in the garage. We stepped inside.
The foyer smelled of lemon polish and sawdust. Marble gleamed; walls were pristine. No blood. No claw marks. Only the faint scent of new paint lingered.
Clara met us at the door, face pale but relieved. “Welcome home, sir. Miss Maddie. Everything is as it should be.”
Alexander nodded. “Thank you, Clara. Take the evening off. We’ll manage.”
She curtsied and disappeared.
Alexander turned to me, taking both my hands. “We’re safe,” he said quietly. “For now.”
I squeezed his fingers. “Thank you.”
He pulled me close, kissing me slow and deep, gratitude, relief, promise all in one. When he drew back, his eyes held mine.
“We’ll talk about what happened, your shift, everything, when you’re ready. No pressure.”
I nodded, throat tight. “Soon.”
He kissed my forehead again. “Take your time. I’m here.”
We walked upstairs together, his arm around my waist, my head on his shoulder. The house felt different: quieter, safer, but still shadowed by everything unsaid.
Ben’s call from days ago lingered in my mind, his threat, his suspicion, but I pushed it down. Alexander had enough to carry. The pack war was over, Moonclaw broken, the estate secure. For the first time in weeks, I could breathe.
I just hoped the peace lasted.