Bonus Chapter 4
Tarria
The morning sunlight spilled through the training courtyard, bathing the stone paths in gold. Lately, I found myself lingering longer after each session, watching the light shift across the walls. Maybe it was calm. Maybe it was the promise of a new chapter. Or maybe… it was the soft rhythm of the heartbeat inside me, reminding me I was no longer just me.
Five years. That’s how long it had been since peace truly settled over the tribe—five years since Lexy and CJ brought unity where chaos once reigned. And for me, five years since I’d finally stopped running from the ghosts of who I was and started living as who I wanted to be.
The sound of boots crunching gravel made me turn. Ragnar stood there, shirtless from his morning drills, his silver tattoos gleaming faintly beneath the light. His dark blond hair was tied back, and his eyes—the same pale gray as the moon before dawn—found me instantly.
“Still overworking yourself, love?” he teased, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
I smiled, though I couldn’t resist rolling my eyes. “You’re one to talk. You were up before the sun again.”
“Old habits,” he said, crossing the courtyard to me. His scent—cedar, iron, and something faintly wild—wrapped around me like a familiar blanket. “Besides, I like watching you train. Even if you’re only pretending to spar these days.”
I placed a hand on my still-flat belly, a slow smile creeping onto my lips. “I’m not pretending. Just… taking it easy. Doctor’s orders.”
His expression softened instantly, the teasing fading into something tender. He placed his large hand gently over mine, the warmth of his palm steady and grounding. “Our pup’s already keeping you from showing me up in front of the recruits.”
I laughed quietly. “You wish.”
It had been almost a year since Ragnar decided to leave the Silver Dyer pack and join me here in the tribe. When he first told me, I didn’t believe him. The Silver Dyer were proud wolves—devoted to their lineage, protective of their traditions. Leaving one’s pack wasn’t a choice taken lightly.
But Ragnar hadn’t hesitated.
“I’m not choosing a place,” he had said to me the night he made the decision. “I’m choosing you.”
Those words had changed everything.
Now, the tribe had become his home. He adapted faster than anyone expected—earning respect through his quiet strength and his steady heart. He worked closely with our warriors, training the younger ones alongside me. And the way he’d earned Lexy and CJ’s trust… it made me proud in ways I couldn’t quite put into words.
The faint flutter in my stomach drew me back to the present. I leaned into Ragnar’s side, feeling his arm come around me automatically. “It still feels unreal,” I admitted softly. “To think that after everything, we get to have this. A life that’s ours.”
He kissed my forehead, his voice low and sure. “You’ve earned it, Tarria. Every moment of it.”
That night, we walked through the heart of the tribe together, past the children playing under the torchlight and the vendors closing their stalls. The world felt peaceful.
“I was thinking,” Ragnar said as we reached the edge of the clearing, “about building our own place near the river. Closer to the training fields, but with room for the little one when they come.”
I looked up at him, startled by the gentle excitement in his tone. “You’ve already thought that far ahead?”
He chuckled. “Of course I have. You think I’d let our pup grow up anywhere but near the water you love so much?”
My throat tightened with emotion. For years, I’d wandered—chained to someone else’s plans, torn between loyalty and survival. But now… I had someone who built dreams with me.
“That sounds perfect,” I whispered.
We sat by the riverbank, the same one where I’d once trained with Lexy years ago, when she’d helped me find balance between light and darkness. The moon reflected in the rippling water, bright and full, as if blessing the path ahead.
“You ever miss your old pack?” I asked quietly, tracing circles on his hand.
Ragnar exhaled, thoughtful. “Sometimes. I miss a few faces. But the place itself?” He shook his head. “No. My loyalty isn’t to a banner or a crest—it’s to the family I choose. And I chose you, Tarria.”
I turned to look at him, and the sincerity in his eyes made my chest ache. I knew how much that meant for him to say. The Silver Dyer pack had been everything to him once—a warrior’s pride, a home built on discipline and order. Yet he’d left it all, without resentment, without regret.
For me.
The night deepened, stars spilling across the sky. Ragnar lay back in the grass, pulling me down beside him. His hand rested on my stomach again, thumb brushing slow circles.
“Do you think they’ll have your power?” he asked softly.
I smiled, gazing at the moon. “Maybe. Or maybe they’ll have yours—the quiet strength, the patience.”
He huffed out a laugh. “If they get both, we’re in trouble.”
“Speak for yourself,” I teased, nudging him gently.
We lay there in silence for a while, listening to the distant hum of the tribe and the rhythmic whisper of the river. Every heartbeat inside me felt like a promise—a small, growing reminder that life had come full circle.
There was a time I thought I’d never have this. That I’d die before I’d ever know what peace felt like. That I was destined to be a weapon, never a woman allowed to dream.
But Lexy had believed in me when no one else did. She’d given me a place when the world had turned its back. And now, because of her and CJ’s leadership, we were all living the future we’d only whispered about once in the dark.
I placed my hand over Ragnar’s and whispered, “Our pup will be born into peace. Can you believe that?”
He smiled, his voice low and sure. “Then we’ll make sure it stays that way.”
His words settled deep inside me, not as a vow of battle, but of guardianship—of legacy.
When we returned home, the fires in the courtyard had dimmed. I paused at the threshold of our small cottage, the place we’d built together. It wasn’t grand, but it was ours—every stone placed with purpose, every inch infused with our laughter and shared sweat.
I turned to Ragnar, who was watching me with that same steady devotion. “Do you ever think about what kind of parents we’ll be?”
He smiled slowly. “The kind who love too much, worry too much, and probably spoil them rotten.”
I laughed softly, leaning into him. “That sounds about right.”
He pulled me close, resting his forehead against mine.
The warmth of him sank into me like light through water. I felt the faint stir inside my belly again—the smallest flicker of life, the beginning of a new story.
“Welcome home,” I whispered, not just to Ragnar, but to the little soul within me.
Because for the first time in my life, home wasn’t a place I had to earn. It was a choice we’d made, a bond we’d built, and a love that would carry us—and our pup—into the next generation.
And as the moonlight spilled through the window, wrapping our world in silver, I realized that peace didn’t mean the end of the story. It meant the beginning of something even greater.
Our family. Our future. Our forever.
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