Bonus Chapter 3

It’s snowing. The flakes dance slowly and delicately, floating down like tiny wishes from the sky. I tilt my head back to watch them melt on my cheeks, and for a second, I forget how heavy the suitcase is in my hands.
“I got it,” I chirp quickly when Stephen tries to reach for it. “This one’s light!”
He doesn’t answer right away, just lifts an eyebrow as I wrestle the bag into the trunk of his car. The back seats are already down so we can fit everything, but it still feels like a puzzle—boxes, ribbons, soft bags tucked into corners. I spent the last week wrapping each one. All of them have hand-drawn tags. I thought it would make everyone smile.
Stephen stands there, his arms crossed, jacket unzipped despite the cold. His hot breath fogs the air. “You brought too much, Wren,” he says.
I glance at him. “It’s just presents,” I say lightly, zipping my coat all the way up to my chin. He already told me that. “I got something for everyone. I know my sister likes those specific peanut butter chocolates, and Dad needed new gloves. And I found this little music box for Ava—she used to collect them, I told you, remember? And for Poppy, she’s always loved handmade stuff best, so I made a scarf, soft and pink, the way she likes—”
“Trinkets,” Stephen says, sharp and flat. “It’s all junk, Wren. Can’t you see that? You think they actually want that crap?”
I freeze a little. “I… I thought they’d like it.”
He shrugs and picks up his own bag. “There’s barely room for my bag,” Stephen says; even though all my bags take up more space than his single one, there’s still room in the trunk for him. “Maybe they’ll pretend to,” he adds, jamming his bag in above one of mine. “Because you’re you. And they don’t want to upset the sweet, perfect princess who cries if someone looks at her funny.”
I blink. His words are quiet, but they sting all the same. “I don’t cry that easily,” I say, even though my throat feels tight already. “I really did try to think of everyone. I just wanted—”
“Yeah. That’s the problem, Wren. You always want too much.”
I look down at the boots I polished yesterday just for this trip. A snowflake lands on one and melts instantly. I start to second guess everything in the suitcases. 
Maybe the scarf was too short... maybe it would have been better to buy one for Poppy. 
Maybe the music box wasn’t Ava’s style anymore... maybe I should have gotten her another thing. 
Maybe I shouldn’t have bought so many things. I didn’t even ask Stephen if I could bring all this—what if it really is too much?
Then Stephen pulls me in, sudden. His hands wrap around my arms, his mouth pressing against mine.
It’s a hard kiss. 
My eyes flutter closed. It’s not perfect, not how I imagined it, but there’s something in it that makes my stomach flip. 
Butterflies, I think. 
Or maybe… maybe it’s just nerves. I haven’t been back in the pack in months. I haven’t told anyone I was bringing Stephen.
When he finally pulls away, I’m breathless and dizzy.
Stephen looks at me, his jaw tight. “Get in. Let’s get over with this,” he says.

🐺 🐺 🐺

The inside of the car is warm, the heater already blowing softly. I buckle up, glance over at him, and smile. “Thanks for driving, by the way.”
He doesn’t answer, just starts the engine.
The snow falls heavier now, powdering the windshield in soft flurries.
We drive in silence for a while. I keep glancing at the wrapped boxes in the rearview mirror, the colorful ribbons peeking through the zipped fabric. I imagine everyone’s faces when I give them their gifts. I hope they like them. I hope—
“You finally got some sense,” Stephen says.
I turn toward him. “Hm?”
“Taking me to meet your family. About time. They’re not even that far from Summerville, and it’s been, what? A whole month?”
His voice isn’t loud, but something in it makes my heart flutter in the wrong way.
“I just wanted to wait for the right moment,” I say gently. “They’re really protective. I didn’t want to overwhelm anyone.”
Stephen scoffs. “Protective. Overbearing is what they are. You talk about them like they hung the moon.”
“They did, kind of.” I laugh softly, trying to keep the mood light. “You’ll see—they’re a little much, but they mean well.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. He just grips the wheel tighter.
I reach for his hand. He lets me hold it. For a while, it’s quiet again. I relax into the seat, watching the snow blur the world outside.
After a few minutes, Stephen says, “So. Did you get me something, too?”
I blink. “What?”
“A Christmas present. I saw how many things you packed. The sizes.” He glances my way, smirking. “So. Where’s mine?”
I giggle. “Stephen. I’ve already given you *so* much—time, attention, my favorite band’s shirt—”
He doesn’t laugh. His hand—suddenly and abruptly—tightens around mine.
Pain explodes in my thumb.
I gasp.
There’s a loud *crack*, and then I’m yanking my hand back instinctively. But he doesn’t let me go. The pain is blinding, white-hot. 
“Oh,” I whisper, my voice trembling. I look down and see my thumb bent the wrong way.
Stephen throws my hand away like it disgusts him. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I—Stephen—”
“All that junk in the trunk and nothing for me? After everything I do for you?”
“I did get you something,” I say quickly, my voice climbing with panic. “I promise—I just didn’t wrap it yet. It’s… it’s a watch! A nice one! I thought it’d look good on you, you like the brand, and—”
I push my thumb back into place, wincing. It heals fast—my werewolf blood kicking in—but the ache lingers.
I can’t stand when someone’s upset with me. I can’t.
“Please don’t be mad,” I say, trying to smile. “You’ll love the watch, I swear. And the trip home—this trip—it’s for *you* too. I’m so happy you’re coming with me.”
He breathes hard through his nose, knuckles pale against the wheel. But he doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t reach for my hand again.
I fold mine into my lap. It trembles a little, so I press it between my knees.
It’s probably better that he doesn’t take it again right now. I might flinch, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings. He’s just… stressed. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have joked like that. 

🐺 🐺 🐺

The snow outside falls heavier now, soft and white, fluttering against the windshield. The world looks so peaceful out there. The opposite of what just happened in the car.
I glance sideways at Stephen, but his face is turned toward the road, his jaw tight. I wonder if he’s still upset. Goddess... I hate when people are upset with me. It makes my chest ache in this deep, squirmy way, like my heart is trying to fold in on itself.
I shouldn’t have made that stupid joke. 
Stupid, stupid joke.
I should’ve wrapped his gift and made sure he saw it first. He probably feels left out. I didn’t think of that, and that’s on me. 
I bite the inside of my cheek and try to replay what I bought him, wondering if it’s enough. I also bought him a custom bracelet made of silver and obsidian beads with a protective rune engraved on the charm. I thought it was meaningful. What if it’s not?
I’m not sure anymore.
“How’s your hand?” Stephen asks finally, his voice low and tight through his teeth.
I blink, surprised he’s asking. My thumb doesn’t throb anymore, and the swelling is completely gone now. “It’s nothing,” I say quickly. “Honestly, I’m a great she-wolf, remember? I passed Diamond Claw’s Elite Training first in my class.” I smile, lifting my hand and wiggling my fingers. “See? Already healing. Not even a scar.”
Stephen glances at it for a moment. “Good,” he says flatly. “I told my father about you.”
That makes me perk up. “You did?”
“Yeah.” There’s something in his voice that feels… strange. Off. Like the words are too smooth and too sharp all at once. “Told him about your little accomplishments. He was very happy. Dying to meet you.”
I beam, warmth rising in my cheeks. “That’s wonderful, Stephen. I hope he likes me.”
“He will, Wren,” Stephen says, and there’s a pause. “He likes strong people. Especially ones with… value.”
I blink. “Oh… well, thank you. That’s a lovely thing to say.”
He doesn’t answer, but the tension in his shoulders seems to ease, and I let out a soft sigh of relief. We’re almost there anyway, just a few more minutes until we reach the big gates. I glance down at the GPS and smile.
“You’re going to love my pack,” I say, excited again. “We’re all family there, and it’s really beautiful during the holidays. Oh! Ava’s going to be there too—you know she’s my best friend. I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s—”
“Are you going to cut me some slack, Wren?” he interrupts suddenly, his voice sharp. “I’m coming on this trip to rest.”
My heart skips. I was talking too much again. I smile quickly, folding my hands in my lap. “Of course. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, I promise. Everything will be perfect. I’ll control all the little details so no one overwhelms you. And if it gets too loud or too crowded, I’ll make up an excuse for us to step out. I’ll take care of everything.”
He says nothing, just stares ahead. My cheeks burn with guilt. I didn’t mean to push. It’s just… I’m excited. And maybe I shouldn’t be. Maybe I’m being selfish.
I start thinking of how to smooth things over with everyone. Maybe I’ll talk to Mom and Lily first—they always get carried away with questions. Or Dad and Az, because they might be too protective. Poppy too. They all love me, but sometimes it’s a lot. Maybe I can ask them not to ask Stephen too many questions. Not to touch him too much. Not to—well, I’ll figure out what he doesn’t want.
“I really hope you enjoy yourself,” I say quietly. “I just want you to feel comfortable.”
Stephen finally reaches over and takes my hand again. 
I freeze. 
The feel of his fingers curling around mine makes my stomach twist. Not the good kind. Not the butterflies.
I try not to flinch as the sound earlier, the *snap* of bone echoes in my mind. 
The way my breath caught in my throat. I’ve been thrown in training exercises. I’ve landed wrong in Full-Moon sprints. I’ve blocked direct punches from Alphas. But no one has ever broken a part of me like that. No one’s ever touched me like I might shatter, and done it anyway.
I smile at him anyway.
Get a grip, Wren. You’re strong. And it’s the holidays. This is going to be a beautiful visit. 
A fresh start.
You’re a she-wolf; it isn’t like your thumb is still broken. 
“Your pack,” Stephen says suddenly, his voice low, almost casual. “Blackmoon. It’s really big, right?”
I blink. “Yes, very. One of the largest on this side, actually. Well-established too. Lots of history and allies. We’re self-sustaining, and we have a full education division, and even our own trade networks. I’ve grown up learning everything about the system.”
Stephen’s eyes are still on the road, but there’s something calculating in the way he nods.
I keep talking because he looks less irritated now, and I want him to feel at ease. “We have two witches—”
“Two witches,” he repeats, surprised. After all, it’s not common to have a witch in your pack, let alone two.
I nod. “Mhm! Aunt Allie and Poppy, my sister-in-law. Plus a few allied wolves from neighboring packs that come in for the holidays. But it never feels crowded. It’s more like… an extended family. Everyone knows everyone.”
He doesn’t say anything else for a while, and I feel proud that I’ve calmed him down. He always has a lot on his shoulders, I know that. He’s nervous. That’s probably why he’s been tense. That has to be it.
“It’s important to me that you feel like you belong,” I say softly. “I know it might take time. But I promise… I’ll make sure everyone loves you.”
Stephen finally glances at me. “They better.”
I laugh a little, thinking he’s joking. “Oh, they will. I mean, how could they not?”
He squeezes my hand tighter than necessary, but this time it doesn’t snap. Just stings. I don’t let the smile slip.
We turn down the last stretch of road. My heart lifts. I recognize the outline of the trees and the soft glow of the watchtower lanterns through the snow. We’re almost home.
“I’ll introduce you to my dad first,” I say. “He’s a big softie, even if he pretends to be strict. And then my sister, and Poppy, and Az. Oh—and Ava, of course.”
Stephen sighs, like the thought of meeting people exhausts him already. “Just make sure they don’t talk too much. I didn’t sign up for an interrogation.”
“No, no, of course not.” I squeeze his hand gently, even though mine still ghostly aches. “I’ll handle it all. You won’t have to lift a finger.”
The car rolls slowly to a stop near the main gate. A warrior approaches to check who we are, and I wave through the window. ‘It’s me, Drew,’ I mindlink him. 
‘Welcome back, Wren!’ he answers. ‘Everyone is already at the packhouse waiting for you!’
‘Thank you, Drew!’
The snowflakes catch the light as they fall.
“This is it,” I whisper, smiling as the gates open.
Stephen doesn’t say anything, just follows straight my directions to the packhouse.
The packhouse looks even grander under the soft snow, glowing like something out of a dream. I bet there’s some witch spell there. 
Twinkling lights wrap around the balconies, and icicles glitter from the eaves. A warm orange glow spills from the tall windows, and I can feel hearts beating inside—familiar ones. 
My people. My family.
Stephen stays silent beside me, his long fingers drumming faintly against his knee. When I turn to look at him, his jaw is tight. 
“They’re going to love you,” I whisper, placing my hand over his. His skin is too cold for a werewolf. “We can grab the presents later, right? Let’s go in first.”
He nods curtly. “Yes. Later.”
I don’t mind his clipped tone. He’s probably overwhelmed. 
The car door creaks open. Snow crunches under our feet as we step out. I pull my coat tighter around me, not because I’m cold, but because I feel jittery. Excited, maybe. Nervous too. It’s Stephen’s first impression, and I want everything to go perfectly.
We walk toward the packhouse hand in hand. 
The front door opens easily, and, as I take off my coat, I notice the silence inside is almost suspicious. But I can feel them. A dozen pulses, maybe more, all gathered ahead. I pause just before the living room, looking up at him with a hopeful smile. “Ready?”
He nods. “Let’s get this over with.”
I push the door open.
“SURPRISE!”
The cheer nearly knocks me back. There are streamers and golden lights and food everywhere. A massive banner hangs across the mantle: *WELCOME BACK, WRENNY!*
I blink rapidly as my eyes sting. Everyone is here. Mom, Dad, Uncle Ethan, Aunt Allie, my sister, Az, Poppy, their son, and so many cousins. I don’t see Ava; she is probably still on her way. 
Stephen’s hand tightens suddenly around mine. I look down, confused, but he’s smiling now. That same perfect smile that hides all his thoughts.
Oh, yeah! I almost forgot about him.
I take a deep breath and step into the room, pulling him with me.
And then, silence.
Dead, cold silence.
Dozens of eyes fall straight on my neck. 
On the place where it has been faintly tingling against my skin since last night.
On Stephen’s mark. 
The silence becomes a weight.
Mom’s brows draw together. Dad’s shoulders stiffen. Aunt Allie—oh Moon, the look in her meadow green eyes. Like someone just poured out all the hope in her chest.
I open my mouth, but Mom speaks first. “Wrenny honey... is he—did you find your fated mate?”
Dad steps forward, his good eye hard on Stephen. “Is that him?”