42. 41

41

Serina

B irdsong filled the woods just as it had on so many mornings like this one. I stood at the edge of the pond and watched the sky lighten from indigo to blush. It was the same time Dad and I would set out, our boots crunching through the underbrush, rods in hand, ready for my birthday weekend tradition.

I approached the old oak that had fallen over, its bark rough against my palm as I traced the initials S I drive your car now. And we got a dog. I named him Bruno. You were right—he loves riding in the front seat,” I blubbered and sniffled, rubbing my nose with the sleeve of my shirt. “Fuck, I miss you, Dad.”

The words spilled out, raw and aching. Hot tears streamed freely, mingling with the taste of liquor on my lips.

I looked down to my phone, the screensaver still of the photo we took together the last time we ate at Mickey’s. “Wherever you are, I know you'll be waiting a while, but save me a seat, okay?”

I took another long pull from the bottle, the sun peeking over the horizon, cloaking me in its warm embrace.

My finger brushed over the ring Brielle had given me just yesterday. I'd waited to have it before coming here because I wanted to be here at sunrise. Be here when we would have been here.

As the sun climbed higher, I sat silently, letting the rays dry my tears, the weight of my grief lessening with each passing moment.

There, on our log, surrounded by the gentle touch of morning light, I finally let go.

The neon sign of Mickey's Diner flickered as we slid into our usual booth, the one that had always been ours, even before the fire. Tonight was reopening night for Mickey’s.

I ran my fingers across the smooth surface of the replaced glass, feeling the absence of all the mementos that used to lie beneath it. A pang of loss hit me hard, and a frown tugged at the corners of my mouth.

Bastian gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “We have a surprise for you, love,” he said, his voice soft.

Curiosity flickered through me as he reached under the table, retrieving a little shoe box worn at the edges. He set it on the table in front of me. I didn’t know why, but I was nervous. With hands that trembled slightly, I lifted the lid. My breath hitched, eyes widening at the sight.

Polaroids, my family photos, me and Sam, the silly napkin drawings, the quirky doodles my dad would sketch while we waited for our meals, the little trinkets from road trips with both my mom and dad.

“Where did you… How did you…?” The words were thick in my throat, tears blurring the edges of my vision.

“When Mickey's caught fire, we knew they were important to you, so we went back in for them,” Bastian replied with a warm smile, his hand on my thigh a comfort.

Thorne reached from across the table and gently rubbed his fingers over my knuckles as I looked through all the things I thought were lost. Nox wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I whispered, the words barely audible over the swell of emotions. But they heard. They always did.

Together, we sat there in that corner of Mickey's Diner, and as I wiped the tears away, ready to face the world again, I knew that no matter what, these guys, this makeshift new family of mine, would always help me find the light in the darkness.

The bell above the door jingled. Sam waltzed in, her energy instantly filling the room like sunlight piercing through storm clouds.

“What did you assholes do to her?” she quipped upon seeing me, sliding into the booth with the grace of a cat. Her arms enveloped me, her hug squeezing the lingering sorrow right out of my bones.

“Nothing,” Nox replied, his voice laced with amusement as he rolled his eyes dramatically.

Sam's gaze drifted to the box resting before us, her eyes softening as they landed on the contents I'd thought were lost forever.

“Oh, Serina,” she breathed. I caught the shimmer of unshed tears as she reached into the box, helping me arrange the polaroids and doodled napkins beneath the glass again.

The clink of plates interrupted our shared silence as our food arrived, steaming and smelling delicious. My heart swelled as I picked up my fork.

Lifting my gaze, I took in the faces around me—Thorne's kind eyes, Bastian's protectiveness, Nox's smirk that always promised both trouble and safety. And Sam, her support always there even when I didn’t deserve it.

It hit me then, the profound sense of belonging that wrapped around me. There was no denying the smile that claimed my lips, wide and genuine, a reflection of the peace settling deep within my soul.

We finished eating and lingered for a while just enjoying each other’s company and conversation.

“Guess it's time we head out,” Thorne said with a gentle reluctance, his voice pulling me back to the present.

“Where are you headed?” I asked Sam as we slid out from the booth, the question casual but heavy with the unspoken knowledge of the life we led—a life where the road was home.

“Louisiana,” she replied. “I heard there was a Werewolf problem over there.”

I leaned against the cool, metal frame next to the diner's entrance, the neon 'Open' sign casting a soft glow on all of our faces in the dark. I pulled out my phone, Sam and the guys already knowing the drill. I snapped a photo of all of us together.

“What are you going to do about it?” My lips curled into a wicked grin, knowing full well the kind of chaos my cousin could handle with the same ease most people handled their morning coffee.

Sam's eyes sparked with that familiar thrill of the hunt, her smile infectious. “What we do best, cousin,” she said, her voice holding a low hum of confidence as she threw me a wink.

With one last hug, the kind that said everything words couldn't, she turned away. Her steps were purposeful. I watched her stride over to her dad’s old truck, the one that held as many memories as miles.

“See you around,” she called out through the driver's side window. She waved, that grin still plastered on her face.

“Be careful,” I called, and she gave me a reassuring nod.

The engine roared to life, and she tore out of the parking lot. Dust kicked up in her wake, swirling under the lights before settling back down to the earth, as if nothing had happened at all.

I stood there for a heartbeat longer, watching the taillights fade into the night until all that remained was the quiet hum of the world moving.

My heart ached with pride and a twinge of worry—Sam was a force to be reckoned with, we both were, but even forces of nature needed to watch their backs sometimes. I was the perfect example of that.

I turned back from the receding taillights, feeling the night air brush against my skin. The diner's bulbs cast a soft glow around us, bathing everything in a nostalgic haze. I faced the guys.

“Let's go home, love,” Bastian said, his voice soothing as his hand reached out, steady and inviting.

Without hesitation, I slipped my fingers into his, stepping up to meet him.

Nox took my other hand, his touch electric, sparking that thrill of excitement that always danced between us. And then there was Thorne, wrapping his arms around my waist, his stubble tickling my neck as he kissed me there and I giggled.

Actually giggled… who the hell am I?

I realized then that my notion of home had shifted.

It wasn’t the road anymore. It wasn't a moving thing, a place or a building. It was never about four walls and a roof over my head.

Home was here.

Home was them.

They were my home.