Chapter 112
Ellie's POV
As we unloaded my luggage and headed into the warm house that smelled like Mom's cooking and Dad's coffee, I found myself talking more freely than I had in months. I told them about the software system I was designing, about meeting Don Miguel and the respect he'd shown me, about how Jackson had supported me through every step of the process.
Mom made hot cocoa while Dad built a fire in the living room fireplace. As I curled up on the familiar couch with my hands wrapped around a steaming mug, Jackson's absence a physical ache in my chest.
I pulled out my phone and typed quickly: Home safe. Parents want to invite you for Christmas. Is that okay?
His response came almost immediately: I'd be honored. Whatever you need, Ellie.
Followed by: Though I have to admit, I'm nervous about meeting your parents properly. Any advice?
I smiled, imagining his worried expression. Just be yourself. And maybe don't mention the frozen lake incident.
Noted. No mentions of near-death experiences. Got it.
Or the mate bond. Let me handle that conversation.
Also noted. I'm just going to smile politely and hope your dad doesn't have a shotgun.
I laughed out loud, causing both my parents to look at me curiously from across the room. I waved them off, typing: He doesn't believe in guns. But he does believe in extensive interrogation and subtle intimidation tactics.
Perfect. Can't wait.
Despite his joking tone, I could sense his genuine nervousness through the message. Meeting the parents was daunting for any couple, but for wolf mates? It carried so much more weight. This wasn't just about whether they liked him—it was about whether they accepted him as family, as my permanent future.
They're going to love you, I typed with more confidence than I felt. How could they not?
Because I'm the guy who let their daughter get kidnapped and nearly drown?
My smile faded. He was still beating himself up about that. You're the guy who saved my life. Who transformed in front of witnesses to rescue me. Who gave up your secret to keep me safe.
There was a long pause before his response: I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
I know. That's why they'll love you.
"Ellie?" Mom's voice pulled me from my phone. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a knowing look on her face. "Is that Jackson you're texting?"
I felt my cheeks warm. "Yeah."
She walked over and sat beside me on the couch, close enough that I could smell her familiar lavender perfume. For a moment, she just looked at me, her expression soft with something like wonder.
"You really care about him," she said quietly. It wasn't a question.
"I really do, Mom." I met her eyes, letting her see the truth of it. "I know this is fast, and I know it's scary, but... he's my mate. I feel it in every cell of my body. Thalia recognizes him. And more than that—I like who I am when I'm with him. He makes me want to be braver, stronger, better."
Mom's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "You sound so grown up. When did my little girl turn into this confident young woman?"
"Probably somewhere between getting hit by a silver candlestick and nearly drowning in a frozen lake," I said wryly.
Her expression immediately shifted to alarm. "What?"
Oops.
"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just... college has been eventful. I'll tell you all about it over Christmas break."
She studied me for a long moment, then reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear—the same gesture she'd been making since I was a little girl.
"I'm going to trust you, Ellie," she said softly. "I'm going to trust that you know what you're doing, that this Jackson is truly worthy of you. But you have to promise me something."
"Anything."
"Promise me that if anything feels wrong—if he ever makes you uncomfortable, if the bond starts to feel like a cage instead of a connection—you'll tell us. Immediately."
The concern in her voice made my throat tight. "I promise, Mom. But that's not going to happen. Jackson would never—"
"I know, baby. I believe you." She pulled me into a hug, and I breathed in her familiar scent, feeling like a child again despite everything I'd been through. "I'm just your mother. Worrying is my job."
We stayed like that for a while, the fire crackling, Dad puttering around in the background, everything peaceful and warm and safe.
But in the back of my mind, I couldn't help thinking about Christmas. About Jackson sitting at our dining table, about my parents' scrutinizing gazes, about all the ways this could go wrong.
Please let them see what I see, I prayed to whatever gods watched over wolves. Please let them understand.
Because I couldn't imagine my life without Jackson now. The mate bond had woven itself too deeply into my soul, had become as essential as breathing.
Whatever happened over Christmas, whatever tests my parents put him through, we'd face it together.
We had to.
Outside the window, the winter sun began to set, painting the snow-covered yard in shades of orange and pink. In a few weeks, Jackson would walk through that door. He'd meet my parents properly, share our family dinner, maybe even help us decorate the Christmas tree.
The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it filled me with a warm anticipation that had nothing to do with the mate sense and everything to do with simply wanting him near.
We can do this, I told myself firmly. Whatever comes next, we'll handle it together.
And deep inside, Thalia rumbled her agreement, satisfied and certain and unshakeable in her conviction.
He was ours. And we were his.
Nothing—not even my well-meaning but overprotective parents—was going to change that.