The golden light of the late afternoon bathed Crescent Moon in warmth as Darius’s car crossed the familiar boundary of their territory. The tall pine trees swayed gently in the wind, their scent instantly wrapping around him like home. The distant howls of patrolling wolves echoed softly in the valley — a melody that spoke of belonging, of peace.
He let out a slow breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
“It’s good to be back,” he murmured, his voice low and full of relief. One arm was still draped around Elaine’s shoulders as if afraid that if he let go. “I don’t want to be away from you two for that long ever again.”
Elaine smiled faintly, leaning into his chest as the car rolled down the familiar gravel road toward the packhouse. His scent — that earthy warmth of pine and cedar —
