“How do you feel about dinner tonight, at the den, with the pack?” Liam asked softly one evening, his hand resting gently on her arm as they sat together on her porch. “They want to apologize, to make amends… and to thank you.”
Emma hesitated, her mind flashing back to the moment when the pack, under Althea’s command, was ready to attack her. The memory left her breathless, a sharp reminder of how close she had come to real danger. It had left a scar, deeper than she wanted to admit. Still, she had come a long way since then.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think, this past week,” she whispered, her voice barely audible against the night air. “I’m not the same person I was when I first came to Ashgrove.”
Liam’s eyes softened, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Neither am I,” he said qui
