A few months means there’s time to get to know her.

But do I need a few months? It’s already been almost one. Almost an entire month of Cassandra living in my home, planting seeds of joy in my darkened heart. The seeds she sowed burrowed into the cracks of my broken soul. Seeds that have bloomed into a garden—an entire field—of colorful, happy wildflowers. Flowers that took root with only the barest encouragement. Flowers that, when she leaves, will rip holes into the ground and leave behind barren, desolate earth that can never be cultivated by anyone else again.

Goddess, I am a fool. I keep asking myself a question I already have the answer to.

Do I love her?

Of course I love her.

I can’t imagine my life without her. What I have with her is everything I expected to have with a fated mate.

No, it’s more than what I expected to have with a fated mate. And she gives me that love—because that is what it is—without conditions. Without a bond. She fills the gaps in my life. As corny as it sounds, she completes me. She awakens my soul, reviving the pieces of me I buried when Kimberly rejected me. She reminds me that those parts of me—the parts I hide from everyone else—are just as important as what I present to the world.

Bond or not, she is my mate.

Mine.

My wolf barks out his agreement in my mind, spinning and leaping in circles as he chases his tail in his excitement, responding to her and my claim on her in a way he’s never responded to a female before.

As clear a sign as any.

I blow out a breath and roll over, climbing from the bed and pulling on my sweats, glancing over my shoulder at a still-sleeping Cassandra. Bathed in starlight, she doesn’t stir as I leave her side, but I need to ensure she stays exactly like this. I grab my shirt from the floor and stuff a pillow inside it, then scoot it as close to Cassandra as I can. Hopefully, the firm pillow “wearing” my shirt will be reminiscent enough of my body next to her, so she stays in her deep slumber while I do what needs to be done.

Leaving the room quietly, I traipse down the stairs and grab my phone, shooting off a text to the one person in the pack I know will fully comprehend my situation and understand what I’m going through. Even with the late hour, his response is almost immediate, a quick four-word text that both reassures me and sets my blood racing: We’ll be right there.

I wait near the front door, pacing back and forth the entire time it takes for him to arrive. His aura alerts me to his presence, and I open the door before he can ring the doorbell or knock so he won’t wake Cassandra.

“Alpha Harrison,” I say, keeping my voice a low whisper. “Luna Emily,” I add, smiling at Wesley’s parents.

“It’s just Harrison and Emily now,” she says, patting my arm as she enters my home.

“Sorry. It’s a habit,” I say, rubbing the back of my head as I close the door behind them.

We file into my kitchen. I take a seat at a barstool, and Harrison and Emily walk to the opposite side of the counter. Emily moves around my kitchen with the same comfortable familiarity that my mom does, grabbing glasses from the cabinets and filling them with water for us.

Harrison’s lips twitch, and he crosses his arms, his eyes glinting with pride. “I’ve been wondering if you’d be asking mefor advice soon,” he says. “Especially after your… display on the training grounds.”

“Wes told you about that?”

Harrison laughs. “He didn’t have to. Everyone either saw it or heard about it. But yes, he did talk to me about you. And Cassandra.”

I huff out a laugh. “He talked to me too. The other day. But as willing as he was to take Haven as a chosen mate before he knew she was his fated mate, he doesn’t truly understand. Not like you do,” I clarify.

Emily smiles as she slides the glass of water across the counter to me, and Harrison wraps his arm around her. “There are few who do.” He squeezes her and kisses her temple. “Mates chosen because of genuine love are rare—almost as rare as second chances—but the bond you create with the one you choose as your life partner can be just as rewarding as one granted by Selene.”

I clasp the glass between my hands and grin at it, picturing Cassandra. Not just her gorgeous body and her beautiful smile, but also the depth of her personality and the ease with which she found a place in my home and my heart. She brings out the best in me and gives meaning to my life again, meaning beyond just being Haven’s gamma.

“I understand that now,” I say, flicking my eyes up to them. “And I need your help.”

“Of course,” Harrison says, and Emily nods her agreement. “Whatever you need, Nolan.”

I exhale and take a large drink of water, smacking my lips as I set the glass back down. “I need to call Cassandra’s mom. Agatha. I have to—I have a question for her first.”

Harrison already has his phone out before I finish talking. He hands it to me, the phone already dialed and the other line ringing for Agatha.

The line picks up after only two rings, and I jump off the barstool as she says, “Hello?”

“Agatha!” I exclaim, pacing again with my hand on the top of my head. “This is Nolan. From Crescent Lake. I’m—”