Page 91 of Fire Bound

“It’s okay, because I am too.” I was the boy who didn’t think he’d live past the age of sixteen and now I’m the man who has nothing but a bright future ahead of him. “But I think it’s okay that we are. Our edge kept us alive, but we’re not fighting for our lives anymore, are we?”

“No, I guess we’re not,” she relents.

“What are you going to do with all this time now? Maybe you can find a hobby. What are your thoughts on knitting?”

She walks over to the blades stuck in the tree. “If someone makes me knit, Iwillstab them in the eye with a knitting needle.”

“Bowling?”

The unamused look she passes me answers my question.

With our enemies dead or gone for the time being, we all have nothing but time to figure out what our lives are going to be. I, for one, am curious to see what we’re all going to be doing years from now when the last of the dust has settled and the events of the past two years are nothing but a distant memory.

I’m also excited to see what mischief my mate and I can get into. Between the two of us, I’m sure we can find all kinds of trouble to get into.

Eight Years Later

Remington

When you’re younger,you have an idea of what you think your life will be. You hold onto that image, and you cling that dream. When someone asks you what you want to be when you grow up, you see the perfect life you’ve created for yourself in your head.

And while you’re doing that, the universe is laughing at you and your best made plans. It laughs because it has something better in mind for you. It laughs at you because it knows that the life you envisioned in your head will look lackluster in comparison to what you’re really going to get.

Had someone told me all those years ago when my world was so dark and bleak that this is where I’d end up, I would have laughed in their face. Then I would have cried because I wouldn’t have thought it was possible.

But standing here today, in the backyard of my childhood home, I know it’s all possible. All those dreams and wishes have come true.

“River!” Ryker calls across the yard to his daughter that looks so much like Pruitt it’s remarkable. Her hair is a couple shades darker than her mom’s white-blonde locks, but holy crap, they’re twins. Just like Genevieve and Pru were. “Give your brother a turn on the swing!”

“Grandma said I could use it!” The little girl, who inherited her attitude from her dad, yells back. There’s the cutest scowl on her round face.

Jax made the mistake of telling her once that she was the cutest little angry person he’d ever seen, and she didnottake it well. Her blue eyes had lit up with so much fury, I thought they were going to burn the house down. My mate had then, of course, made matters worse by bursting into laughter when River stomped her foot in frustration.

“Yeah, and yourdadis telling you to let Ruger have a turn.” My brother crosses his arms and stares down his daughter, daring her to argue with him more. It’s a nice show, but everyone here at this family barbecue knows that Ryker will fold like a cheap lawn chair for his daughter.

Ruger was born just eighteen months after River. I thought Pru was going to kill her mate when she found out he’d knocked her up again. She’d called me in hysterics while I was in Japan. The tears were a mixture of joy and panic. After twenty-four hours passed, the panic was gone, and Pru was just as happy as Ryker was. If it was up to Ryker, they’d have a baseball team of kids. Pruitt, however, is content with the two that she has.

While River looks like Pru, Ruger looks like the rest of the Weylyn’s with our dark brown hair and blue eyes. He got his mom’s calm nature though.

“I really should buy another playset so there’s more swings,” my mom comments from where she’s taking the plastic off a bowl of cut-up fruit. The long picnic table is covered with different dishes she made. Just like how she liked to entertain the pack, she loves to entertain her growing family. She goes overboard with everything she does. We had planned on this being a lowkey summer barbecue, but I’m pretty sure I saw fireworks in the back of my dad’s car when we pulled in.

“Don’t you dare,” Pruitt orders my mother. “You spoil them too much already.”

“That’s the job of the grandma, right?” My mom is an amazing mother, but she thrives as a grandmother.

Winslow walks up with a bright red popsicle in her hand. “Jasper threatens to run away to grandpa and grandma’s house all the time. If he keeps climbing on top of the roof and refusing to come down, I might consider it.” As a leopard shifter, my nephew has an innate instinct to climb things. It’d be funny if it weren’t terrifying to see an eight-year-old teetering on the roof of a two-story house. Also due to his leopard nature, he’s sneaky as hell. You look away for two seconds and that kid is long gone.

My mom laughs. “No, the other perk of being a grandma is I get to hand them back to you at the end of the day.”

Isabeau and Ransom walk up, swinging a little girl with curly dark hair between them. “I thought that was the perk of being the fun aunt and uncle?” Ransom asks. “We get to fill them with sugar and then hand them back to you when the sugar crash happens.”

Winslow narrows her eyes at Ransom. “Please tell me you didn’t give her candy again.”

“He didn’t, Mommy,” Isla promises before letting out a high-pitched squeal when Beau and Ransom swing her again.

“Good,” Winslow sighs in relief. “I love you but you’re a tiny terrorist when you have sugar.”

Isla giggles before shaking her tiny head. “No Mommy, Uncle Ransom didn’t give me candy, but Aunty B did.” She sticks out her tongue to show it’s stained bright blue. “It was boo-berry.”

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