Chapter 5 - The Dawn After the Storm
Three months later, the Virginia morning air was crisp, clear, and smelled faintly of rain and blooming dogwood flowers.
I stood on our back porch, leaning against the wooden railing with a steaming mug of black coffee in my hand. Behind me, the screen door clicked open, and light footsteps crossed the wooden planks. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Tessa stepped out into the sunlight, wrapped in a soft, oversized sweater. Her left arm was still supported by a light brace, and faint, fading shadows of bruises lingered along her jawline, but her eyes—those bright, fierce, beautiful eyes—were completely clear. The shadow of fear that had haunted her past was gone, replaced by the profound, hard-won peace of a survivor who had stared into the abyss and walked out the other side.
She walked up beside me, slipping her uninjured arm around my waist and resting her head gently against my shoulder.
“You're up early,” she murmured, looking out across the emerald-green grass toward the tomato plants I had finally finished fixing.
“Couldn't sleep,” I smiled, kissing the top of her head. “Plus, I wanted to make sure the porch light was turned off. Can't stand wasting electricity.”
Tessa let out a soft, genuine laugh—the exact same sound from the photograph I had carried through every dangerous alleyway and desert outpost across the world. She pinched my side playfully. “You're never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Never,” I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her tight against my side.
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Inside the house, my military duffel bag sat zipped and tucked away in the front closet, my active-duty papers officially retired, my contract with the shadows permanently closed. The Delta Force operator was gone. In his place was simply a man standing on his own front porch, holding his wife in the morning sun, ready to live every ordinary, beautiful day they had left.
The Wolfe pack was broken, scattered to the winds of federal prison cells and forgotten disgrace. But we were right here, standing together, unbroken and unbowed. And the storm was finally, beautifully over.
