Page 97 of Claimed By My Exiled Alphas
Wes approached as we reached the parking lot, his packmates beside him. “That took courage,” he said, clasping my shoulder. “Thank you for finally telling your side of the story.”
“Thank you for trusting me with the evidence,” I said. “And for releasing it when my family tried to bury it.”
“That’s what we do for the valley,” Wes said simply. “Protect it however we can.”
Rhett, his packmate, grinned. “Welcome to the official Hollow Haven pack club. Population: three packs and counting.”
“Glad to be here,” I said honestly.
Willa gave me a quick hug. “I’m glad you finally spoke up. You deserved to tell your own story.”
We drove home in comfortable silence, the bonds humming with contentment and relief. When we pulled up to Talia’s cottage, Jace said what we were all thinking.
“That went better than I expected.”
“The special election thing is going to be interesting,” Hollis observed. “Cleaning house after the bribery scandal.”
“The community deserves better,” I said. “They deserved better than what my family and those council members tried to do.”
“You gave them better,” Talia said, turning to kiss me softly. “That took incredible courage, standing up there and owning all of it.”
“I had help,” I said, pulling all three of them close in the driveway, not caring who might see. “Pack makes everything possible.”
Through the bonds I felt their agreement, their love, their absolute certainty that we belonged together.
I’d lost my family of blood to save this valley. But I’d gained a family of choice that meant infinitely more. And Hollow Haven, finally, felt like home.
Chapter 28
Talia
Three months after the bonding, The Hearthstone Bistro was finally ready to open.
I stood in the dining room at five AM, watching dawn light filter through the front windows onto tables I’d chosen myself, chairs Jace had helped refinish, walls painted in the warm cream color Hollis had suggested would make the space feel inviting. Every detail had been chosen carefully, with input from my pack and my own vision of what a restaurant should feel like.
Not just a place to eat, but a place to belong.
“You’re up early,” Cassian said from behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me back against his chest. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Too excited,” I admitted, leaning into his warmth. “And terrified. What if nobody comes? What if the food is terrible? What if I’ve completely misjudged what this town wants?”
“Then we’ll adjust,” he said calmly. “But you haven’t misjudged. You’ve been testing recipes on half of Hollow Haven for weeks. People are excited about this.”
Through the bond I felt his confidence, his absolute certainty that this would succeed. It helped settle some of my nervous energy, though not all of it.
The past three months had been a whirlwind of renovation and menu development and permit applications and health inspections. But through it all, I’d had pack support. Cassian handling the business logistics I found overwhelming. Jace providing foraged ingredients and physical labor. Hollis managing the details I overlooked in my focus on food.
We’d moved into the house on Maple Street six weeks ago, slowly making Hollis’s grandmother’s property into our shared home. My cottage was now used primarily for storage and as a quiet workspace when I needed to focus on recipe development. But home was wherever the four of us were together.
“The others are awake,” I said, feeling them through the bonds. “Jace is probably making breakfast, and Hollis is organizing something.”
“Hollis is always organizing something,” Cassian said with amusement. “It’s his natural state.”
We walked home through quiet streets, hand in hand, to find exactly what I’d predicted. Jace at the stove making scrambled eggs and sourdough toast. Hollis at the table with a clipboard, checking off items on what looked like an extensive list.
“Opening day preparation,” Hollis explained when he saw me looking. “Final walkthrough checklist, backup plans if we run out of ingredients, contingencies for if turnout is higher than expected.”
“You made a list of contingencies?” I asked, touched by the thoughtfulness.
