9. Serenity

Serenity

I drive us home, my fingers tight on the wheel. Two years of questions, of guilt, of wondering what went wrong - all answered in one horrible moment.

"I'll kill him," Agis growls softly.

"No." My voice sounds strange in my ears. "I want him to rot in prison, thinking about what he did. Death's too good for him."

“We won the money,” he says, the paper receipt clutched between his massive fingers. “And the recording will make sure Ethan is punished.”

I nod. Detective Morris said that between the recording and the receipt, the Red Top Wildlife Center is free and clear. The relief should make me feel better.

But the avalanche of news that I’ve received tonight keeps anger simmering in my gut. I hold it together until we reach the cabin. Then the walls I've built over two years crumble all at once.

Agis catches me as my legs give out, gathering me against his massive chest.

"I knew something was wrong," I choke out between sobs. "The equipment, the records... God, I should have seen it."

"Not your fault."

"They trusted him. We all did." My fingers dig into his chest, anchoring myself. "He killed them over land. Over money."

Like gambling debts. Like the addiction that nearly tore us apart. The parallel hits hard, and fresh tears come.

"Promise me," I beg, looking up at my mate. "Promise me you're done with gambling. I can't... I can't lose anyone else. Not like this. Not to greed."

"I swear it." He kisses away my tears with infinite gentleness. "No more games. No more lies."

***

The next few weeks blur together. Detective Morris calls each day with updates on the investigation. They uncover damning evidence in Ethan's office—photographs documenting tampered equipment, forged paperwork, detailed strategies to pressure my parents into selling.

Word spreads quickly through our tight-knit town. The Wildlife Center's parking lot fills with familiar faces bringing comfort and support. Julie arrives from her bakery with fresh coffee and tearful hugs. The McKinnons leave their hardware store to deliver homemade casseroles. Even Mr. Peterson, our usually gruff postmaster, shows up with his cap clutched respectfully in his weathered hands. We gather together, sharing stories and memories, honoring my parents' legacy.

Through it all, Agis remains my foundation.

Day by day, we find our rhythm in this new reality. Agis puts his mountain-learned skills to use, reinforcing and improving the animal enclosures. I begin teaching wilderness safety courses, carrying forward the work my parents loved so deeply.

One evening on the porch, as the sun paints the sky in amber and rose, I watch Agis settle in an enlarged rocking chair he built.

"I want to expand the rescue program," I tell him. "It was Mom's dream to help more animals."

He draws me into his lap, his arms encircling me. "Then that's what we'll do."

The center flourishes under our care. Ethan awaits trial, and soon my parents' killer will face justice. Yet something nags at me.

"Do you think they'd approve?" I whisper. "Of everything we're doing? Of us?"

"They'd be proud," he says softly. "How strong you are, how you care, how you keep going."

My fingers trace the fresh scar on his shoulder, still pink from the shooting. It feels like ages ago, though barely any time has passed. "No more gambling?"

"Never again," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple. "I already have everything I need."

The wolves begin their evening song, their howls echoing through the valley. Our newly planted oak saplings reach skyward, promising future shade and shelter. Here in my mate's arms, I've found where I belong.

Perhaps this isn't the future my parents imagined for me. But somehow, it's exactly right.