Chapter Thirteen

“Why are you doing this?” King asked low in the cab of Wreck’s truck.

“Because I was wrong.” He pulled to a stop in a clearing crowded with people King didn’t recognize. “Here.” He pulled something out of his pocket and King stared at it, stunned.

It was too good to be true.

It was the pocketknife he’d given the others in the Crew, the last time he’d been with Katrina.

“I don’t need a handout,” King said low, not believing Wreck’s offering quite yet.

“It’s not a handout. You earned it. I wanted to give it to you in Alaska, but…well…there were things that needed to be taken care of first.”

“Like what?”

“Like Rook.”

King lifted his gaze to Wreck. “A man doesn’t come back whole when they give in to stuff like that.”

“You’re just fine.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” Wreck twitched his chin toward the crowd. “Look at that cabin. The one with the navy paint on the front. Do you know what exists there?”

And he knew. He knew. Katrina lived there, didn’t she? “Happiness?” he guessed.

“Take the knife, King. We’ll figure out the rest later. Right now, this is a celebration.” Wreck clapped the closed pocketknife into his hand. “Welcome to the Cold Foot Crew.”

King watched the Alpha get out of the truck and meander into the crowd, greeting his mate, Timber, and then the others one by one.

And then he saw her.

Katrina.

Kat.

The crowd parted, and there she was, standing beside a firepit, eyes uncertain. She’d curled her hair, and she wore a charcoal-gray dress, and thick-soled black boots. A trio of silver necklaces dangled from her throat, and she wore big hoop earrings. Her makeup was done, and she looked unsurprised, like she’d expected him.

Kat lifted a hand and waved to him, then rested it on her chest. Her arms were bare in the cold breeze that lifted her dark tresses of hair.

She’d left the makeup off her scar, and it showed red and angry against her pale skin.

She was so damn beautiful.

King shoved the door open and got out, then walked toward her. Then jogged. Then ran and scooped her against his chest, and buried his face against her chest as she cooed comforting, nonsensical things to him. Her hands were in his hair, gripping like she didn’t want to let go.

Katrina eased him back and lifted his face to hers, pressed her lips to his, and then rested her forehead against his. “It wasn’t the medicine.”

“I know. I know,” he said. “I know it wasn’t the medicine. I know it now.”

“You’re just mine,” she whispered thickly, and he brushed the tears from her beautiful face. “I saw what you did to Rook,” she whispered.

He huffed a sound he didn’t recognize, and settled her onto her feet. Kat cupped his cheeks and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

“No one is allowed to hurt you, Kat.”

“I know, I know. And no one is allowed to hurt you either. Not anymore.”

He pulled her against his chest, cupped her head, gripped her hair, and looked out at the crowd that had gone silent around them. “Hi everyone,” he said in a much growlier voice than he’d intended.

It was Owen who came from the crowd first. “I heard you avenged my mate.” He ducked his chin lower. “We got a beer pong game setting up. Want to be on my team?”

And just like that, the mood was lightened. The chuckles and the claps on his back as he eased out of his hug with Katrina told him everything was okay.

Everything. Was. Okay.

Cash approached him with Reed, and they gave him the manly, back-clap hugs and warm welcomes. Kade was next, and then there was Timber and Raynah with their mushy smiles and ready hugs.

“Tell me I can keep you,” Katrina whispered, squeezing his hand with both of hers.

King searched her eyes, and then slid the folded pocketknife to her. Overwhelmed, she burst out crying, stopping their trek to the beer pong tables someone had set up near the firepit. “Really?” she asked thickly.

He nodded. “Wreck gave it to me in the truck.”

She wiped her eyes and shook her head, hung her gaze toward the ground as she tried to get control of herself. King dragged her in close again and just held her. “It’s all right,” he murmured.

“I have so much to tell you,” she whispered. “I had all these thoughts, all day, everyday, that I wished I could tell you about.”

“We have time now.”

“We have time,” she repeated softly, and gah, her eyes were so full of love. He could feel it.

King leaned down and kissed her lips gently, and she threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back. With a chuckle against her lips, he lifted her off the ground and dragged her in the direction of the beer pong tables, where Owen was currently giving Silver tips on how to play beer pong well.

Over the next several hours, the shifters from Damon’s Mountains would filter into Wreck’s territory. He would meet the all-stars. The monsters. The ones who had formed the biggest, most tight-knit community of shifters, and now, he and Katrina would be a part of that.

He let his walls down as the minutes drifted by, and let the laughter that surrounded him flood his defenses.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was just…King. And Katrina was graceful, and full of life, and constantly smiling, and God, she was beautiful like this. She was happy, and it fueled his happiness, and that’s how love was supposed to be, right? It wasn’t outside forces planning a destiny. It wasn’t a family group choosing what he should do, or a few prison guards choosing who he should breed.

This was him, King, choosing the woman he loved, Katrina—and his animal agreeing that she was the perfect match for him.

She was his choice, and he was honored to be her choice too.

Do you know what exists there?

Happiness.

Whatever came next, he would be ready. He would roll with it. He would ride the wave and be of service to an Alpha who had taken a chance on a silverback that wasn’t meant to be in his Crew.

Whatever came next, he was going to face it with Katrina, and with the other shifters of the Cold Foot Crew.

He would do his best to be a good partner, a good man, a good mate for a woman who had been through hell and back, and deserved to feel the safety he knew he could provide.

Whatever came next…he would make sure Katrina—his Katrina—wore smiles like she had today.