Page 124 of Pack Fever

Seth’s smile breaks free, his earlier grim facade replaced by an almost boyish glee.

“This is the thing... they’ve been watching the social media explosion around our concert, all the publicity about the hooded mystery girl I’ve been eyeing. And here’s the kicker… the media and our fans, they’re not hating the idea. They’re eating up this romantic story and want more of us together, our happily ever after. They are calling it the romance of the century.”

“Are you fucking with us?” Jasper asks.

“I’m fucking serious.” Seth is holding a straight face. “They’re even redoing our contract, which is going to our lawyer for review. We’re no longer officially single.”

The news hits me like a tidal wave, and tears spring to my eyes, not from fear or sadness but from an overwhelming sense of relief and joy.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, the tears now flowing freely.

Seth pulls me into his arms, kissing me, smiling like nothing in the world could touch him.

“Shit, man, you had us so worried. You asshole!” Reed’s words are light, mocking, and soon, he’s pulling Seth and me into a hug. Jasper’s there in seconds. Before I know it, I’m enveloped in their embrace, laughter mingling with my tears.

“I can’t believe this is happening... For the first time in my life, things are actually working out,” I manage between sobs and laughter.

Seth pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting mine with a promise. “Oh, this is just the beginning, sweetheart,” he assures me, Seth and Jasper nodding and smiling.

I can feel the collective tension of the past few days melt away, leaving room for something new, something hopeful.

For the first time, I dare to believe that maybe, just maybe, I’ve found my place, my pack, and my future.

Epilogue

DANICA

“Are you crazy? That’s not happening. No fucking way am I getting on that stage,” I protest vehemently, my gaze flitting across the determined faces of my three Alphas. It feels like a conspiracy, some elaborate joke they’ve concocted, but the earnest looks in their eyes tell me they’re dead serious.

“Danica,” Seth begins, his voice gentle as he reaches for my hand, his touch grounding me in the middle of the swirling chaos backstage at The Fillmore in Philadelphia. “I believe in you. We’ve all heard you, you know, singing in the shower almost every day. Your talent is astronomical, and rather than hiding it, we want you to join us.”

“Wait, what? You have?” I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. “Why would you listen to me in the shower?” The words tumble past my lips, my inside ice cold from the dread of what they’re asking me to do.

Jasper steps closer. “Because you have a beautiful voice,” he says, his compliment sending a ripple of warmth through me.

“And the way you sing, your lyrics to our song—it’s jaw-dropping,” Reed adds, his eyes alight with his love for me.

“We all want you as our first song tonight.” Seth’s grip on my hand tightens, a silent reassurance. “It’s going to be okay. We’ve learned your lyrics, and we’ll be your backup singers.”

My mind reels, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as their words sink in.

“Y-You learned my l-lyrics?” I stammer, barely aware of the bustling activity around us in the back corridors as the opening act makes their way off-stage.

Seth leans in. “The stars above have stories to tell, but none as bright as us.” His voice is a soothing melody as he sings a line from my song.

“And those whispered dreams are now dust.” Jasper picks up the next line, his voice melding perfectly with the tune.

“Because you’re not the man I thought you were. Hmm hmm hmm.” Reed completes the chorus, his voice resonant and stunning.

Hearing my own lyrics, created from the depths of my grief, echoed back to me in their voices floods me with a storm of emotions. I’m overwhelmed, tears streaming down my face, not just from fear but from a profound sense of being seen, of being understood and accepted by these incredible men.

“So, you’ll do it?” Seth asks again, his eyes searching mine for an answer.

The very thought of standing on that stage, of exposing my soul to a sea of strangers, paralyzes me.

“I-I can’t,” I whisper, the words barely audible over the roar of the crowd in the stadium not that far from us. The idea of sharing a piece of me so personal, so intertwined with the memory of my father, terrifies me to my core. As I stand there, caught in the supportive embrace of Seth, Jasper, and Reed, I’m torn.

“Danica, you won’t be alone,” Seth continues.

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