The fire was burning to a low thrum within Myles' family's cabin, the crackle and hum filtering through Mira's senses. As she took a seat amongst the cushions spread across the floor, Mira's thoughts were somewhere between an orderly and disorderly spiral.

In the wake of everything that had happened, she found that had become her new—not so— normal.

To her lack of surprise, recovering from kidnapping and a sexual assault attempt was rough. In so many ways. Physically, she saw the bruises disappear but mentally, they were always there; he was there. Mira's emotions swung like they were on a pendulum—and it was the smallest of things that set her off. Myles was by her side at all times.

At times, when Mira woke from a nightmare and he was there, ready to offer whatever comfort Mira could tolerate in that moment. Mira would cling to him, the thought of being alone terrifying.

Then there were the other times. When Mira recoiled from Myles' touch in a moment of disassociation between the past and the present.

At night, she found that happened far too often. A hand simply resting on her hip became a bruising, proprietary grip. Fingertips stroking through her hair morphed into a wrenching hold she couldn't escape from. As the days dragged on, Myles ended up spending most nights shifted, the bed barely holding both their weight. On the nights where Mira's thoughts became too spiralled into the past, she slept alone, swaddling herself tightly into blankets. Myles never once made an issue of either scenario. The extra considerations, solely for her benefit, made her feel equal parts guilty, overwhelmed and cherished.

In fact, Mira found that she was never alone. If it wasn't Myles, it was Kiva. If it wasn't Kiva, it was his mother or father; although Mira still felt nervous around her Alpha without Myles there as a barrier. On the whole, their presence made it easier. A pseudo safety net of sorts. For weeks, it remained the case.

Until, eventually, her safety net was no longer viable. Coming up to the inevitable, Mira had been telling herself to brace for it. Still, readjusting to the loss of constant company was a difficult hurdle to face.

To cope, Mira began adapting herself back into normalcy. Small steps. A couple of times a week, she would spend the day with Kiva. Then, she began volunteering within the school again; the children a welcome escape of optimism and brightness.

Little by little, she found her confidence returning.

Now, as she gathered fabric into a bundle, she could feel her pulse start to race. This reminder—the sweat sodden, soiled clothes she'd been found in—of it all was almost too much. Almost. Yet as Mira carelessly tossed them into the flames in a surge of adrenaline, Mira was determined.

She'd kept the clothes close to her, waiting for the right moment. In some ways, it kept her looking over her shoulder. In other ways, it did the opposite. Although she didn't put a time stamp on anything, it kept up the anticipation.

Until now, apparently.

In the moments after she finally threw them, she didn't so much as sit as she did collapse back onto the cushions. Even as quivers began to overwhelm her, she felt a warring, strange sense of catharsis that come over her. Watching the flames lick higher as the clothes begin to burn, she drew in a long breath before exhaling roughly. Visually, it was a lacklustre sigh compared to explosion she was hoping for.

Nevertheless, overcome with emotion all of a sudden, she thought: this was the final step of this all. This was her taking back her own life.

Pillowing her chin on her arms, she glanced at Myles through the glass sliding doors. He was out there, his jacket left behind inside as he went to collect enough fire wood to get them through the night. When Mira had offered to help, he'd vetoed the ideas on the spot, so adamantly Mira had no chance to argue.

Beyond him, the falls were pumping from the recent ice melt into the creek. The combination of the reflection of the fire in the glass, the water and Myles was a grounding sigh for Mira, keeping her in the present.

At her request, she and Myles had taken a couple days away from the rest of the pack. As he'd driven up the dirt road, she'd briefly wondered if it would have been one big trigger point, had she any recollection of the kidnapping. The first sight of the cabin—although incomparable to when she'd been held—had made her breath hitch as it was. Myles had sat in the car with her, his palm there just shy of touching distance. He silently, supportively waited her out. Until she was ready to accept his touch. Until the past and present stopped blurring, and Mira felt safe enough to leave the car. It took her about half an hour, but eventually Mira got there.

Another baby step.

When Myles came in some time later, the clothes had long burned. He set the firewood down by the door, quickly shutting out the frigid air. "I haven't— Sweetheart, are you alright?" His expression flared with worry as he rushed over to her. "What happened?"

Mira managed a smile, albeit a shaky one. "Nothing," she said. She wasn't ready to share what had happened yet, although Myles knew she'd been carrying around the clothes.

Myles didn't seem the least bit convinced, but he didn't push the issue. Crouching to her level, he simply kissed the side of her head. "Are you warm enough?"

Mira gestured between the fire, her jacket and multiple blankets lying around. "More than."

"Good. Let me know if that changes."

Myles seemed to hesitate, then. Aware that he didn't know if he treaded the line as welcome or unwelcome company, Mira sat up a little. "Stay with me. Please."

The shift wasn't the most comfortable, but they managed. Rearranging the blankets and pillows, Myles leaned back against them. Lying back against him, she turned slightly. As she rested her head on his chest, Myles' arms draped over her loosely. Listening to each beat of his heart, Mira closed her eyes.

"I started the soup," murmured Mira into the following, companionable silence.

"You didn't have to, sweetheart." Myles brushed her hair over her shoulder. "It won't take me long."

It was the answer she'd expected. Although, if she was being honest, "started" was a bit of an overstatement. Prior to settling in front of the fire, she'd cut up all the vegetables. The rest was still left fo Myles to do. Mira knew her own culinary limits.

Mira said, "Not the point. I wanted to help."

"I appreciate it."

Mira hummed under her breath in answer. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she found that the simple notion of Myles' touch was like a balm to her nerves. His extra warmth was a nice comfort as well.

To think that she'd nearly lost this, was equal parts heartbreaking and painful.

Hours could have passed. Mira didn't bother tracking the time. She let herself get caught up in the smells, sounds and sights around her: the fire crackling, Myles' natural scent, the hues of red and orange against the stained timber.

"Close your eyes, sweetheart." Myles chest vibrated underneath her cheek as he spoke softly. "Get some rest."

"I'm not tired," she argued indignantly. "I'm just comfortable."

"Of course." Myles' voice was tinged with amusement. He kissed her hair. "We'll just watch the fire together, then."

Mira had zero issues with that plan.

At least, until despite all her attempts to stay awake, Mira found herself being lulled into sleep by the feeling of warmth and comfort around her.

The last thing she heard was Myles laugh lowly.

Much later that night, Mira was at the sink, cleaning up the dishes. The dark, rich scent of their dinner still filled the cabin pleasantly. Soft music playing off of his phone filled in for their lack of conversation.

Wiping off the last piece of cutlery, Mira glanced over her shoulder. Myles was crouched lying near the fire, book open in front of him. Over the past half hour, she'd watched him occasionally stoke to fire to keep it consistently burning.

After letting out the water from the sink, she made her way over. Without hesitation, he shuffled over to make room for her to settle into his side. Sliding her palm to his, Mira squeezed gently. He did the same back, wordlessly letting her know that, like always, he was simply there.

"Thank you for dinner," she said, glancing up at him.

His mouth twisted into a scowl. Mira was used to the jerk reaction by now. He did it whenever she thanked him for anything he considered unnecessary. Mira chalked it down to his unbending sense of pride and let it be.

Just as she did in the silence that followed.

Eventually, Myles cleared his throat. "Mira, I..."

Mira waited. When he didn't go on, she grew worried. She could feel the sudden tension in of his shoulders underneath her. For Myles to show any kind of nervousness was uncharacteristic.

Sitting up to put some distance between them, she asked, "What's wrong?"

"This is so much harder to say than I thought it would be." He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, mirroring her posture. His fist clenched on his knee before he soothed his palm on his trousers. "I've been waiting for the perfect. I'm realising that doesn't exist. No moment will ever be perfect and I'll be waiting forever, at this point."

Mira was terrified to interrupt him. She held her breath, her pulse beginning to spike with nerves that echoed his own.

His eyes met hers, with an intensity that made her breath catch all over again. "There may not be a time that's prefect," he continued, "but I believe there is one that's right. And, here, right now with you, this feels right to me. I can't explain it, sweetheart. It just is."

The foundations were shaking beneath her. Mira felt at a loss. The was only question on her mind: what was happening?

"Mira, would you honour me with a mating ceremony?"

Mira forgot how to breathe. She'd heard that wrong. Surely. There was no chance he'd asked that question. It made no sense. "I... what?"

"Dammit, that came out wrong." Myles let out a ragged breath. His expression pinched into frustration, before the lines soothed back out. "Give me a minute, sweetheart. Please."

With nothing else to do, Mira merely nodded. She didn't say a word. She couldn't even if she'd tried to, her mouth so dry and her thoughts a mess.

"Mira," said Myles, an edge of unease in his voice, "I know if you're by my side for the rest of my life, I'll be the luckiest man alive. Not a second will go by, where you won't be the stars that guide me in the night." He drew in a breath, although his voice still wavered. "Will you accept me as your mate and let me honour you until my last breath?"

All of that, she hadn't misheard. Mira briefly wondered, how fast a heart could beat before it gave out? Mira felt like she was right on the edge of that becoming more than a hypothetical question.

Mating was permanent.

Mating wasn't a decision anyone made lightly.

And Myles was asking her.

"Myles," she began, licking her lips. "Are you sure you'd want that—with me?"

Myles blinked, once. Then, twice. He went to reach out, before he changed his mind and put his palm back on his own knee. "I've never been surer of anything in my life, sweetheart."

"But..." Even as Mira tried to find a modicum of sensibility, she failed. "I... I don't..."

Myles averted his gaze to her shoulder, focusing there. Almost as if he couldn't bear the alternative. "Mira, if you're not ready, it takes one word. Tell me no. Tell me I've sprung this on you and it's not fair. Or tell me you don't want this—"

"It's not that," cut in Mira abruptly, picking at her nails. She couldn't meet his gaze either, as she gathered her thoughts through sheer will alone.

Myles didn't look convinced. Not even close.

"It's not that," she repeated. She drew in a breath of courage, because the next words she spoke felt like lead in her mouth. Exposing her vulnerability so outwardly always had that affect. "I grew up thinking I'd forever be alone. It became a survival mechanism, over the years. The idea of getting attached to anyone... was impossible. It still sounds out of reach. The time I've spent with you feels like a dream, half the time."

Myles' gaze didn't lift. But she knew he was listening.

"Have you thought about this—long term, I mean? What happens when the pack finds out about... well, me? Because it will happen and we both know it. Secrets don't stay buried forever." Mira paused. Reconsidered her tactic. "You have so much to lose, Myles. How can you be willing to risk that?"

Now, when he reached out, Mira did the same. As their palms touched, she inched closer until their knees touched.

"Mira, none of that matters to me. It never will. My only concern is my commitment to you." His grip tightened. "Let them find out. Today, for all I care. My promise to you is that, no matter anyone else thinks or says, I'll stand proudly by your side."

She searched his expression, trying to find any indiction that he lied. She found nothing but assuredness. "How can you be sure that won't change?"

"Because I love you. For who you are. For who you'll become." Myles broke off as his voice wavered. "If you give me this chance, I can't wait to find out who we'll become as we grow together."

Mira wanted that. So badly. Every word he said, she felt resonate within her. To spend the rest of her life with him, even in their worst moments, sounded like a dream.

One out of her reach.

Until now.

Was she willing to take this chance? Could she put her own happiness first, ignoring the potential ramifications? If Myles wasn't worry, what reason did she have to be?

"I love you," she whispered through the beginning of tears, feeling like she was opening an irreparable void as she spoke. It was what she'd known—and had been denying—for so long now. Acknowledging it aloud was both frightening and freeing in the same breath. "Of course... I'll be your mate. Thank you for giving me that chance, Myles."

Again, Myles' scowled. Mira had been expecting it, of course. This time, she leaned into him, closing the distance to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Myles got the hint, pulling her in with his arms around her waist.

"I love you," she whispered, before she kissed him.

The kiss they shared was soft, chaste. So much unspoken emotion passed between them in that one touch. One kiss turned into two. The taste of both their tears became irrelevant. When they finally separated, Mira felt like she was riding a high she never wanted to come down from.

If this was the rest of her life, like Myles, she wouldn't regret for a second choosing it.

*

Their mating ceremonies took place two weeks later.

To both ceremonies, Mira wore the same dress: Myles' mother's own mating dress. It was an off the shoulder, deep garnet gown, with golden lace detailing along her ribs that continued further down the floor length chiffon. After the necessary alterations, it fit Mira like it was originally her own. When she'd first shown Myles, flushed nearly as red as the dress was, he'd simply stared at her for the longest time. Then he'd cried, holding her at arms length, seemingly in awe. Any self-consciousness Myles had previously felt disappeared then.

She knew in that moment, deep within herself, that she was making the right decision. Everything just... settled into place. Myles was an enigma she'd never expected. He'd crashed into her life and turned everything she knew on its head. In the best possible way.

One ceremony was a small, intimate affair, with only those close to them, including Ciaran and Vara. For that reason, they held it on within the Truce Lands in an area that, from what Myles told her, was a nightmare to secure safely. The sentry who guarded the ballroom weren't told a thing about why they were there, but from what Mira understood, they didn't press questions either despite whatever theories they held. The night was one Mira knew she'd cherish forever. Especially, the after party. Although it was held at the same venue for security reasons, that didn't damage the atmosphere. Mira drank too many shots, laughed until she was out of breath and danced (staggering, by the end) well into the morning. She simply enjoyed celebrated being in love.

The second ceremony was a public one, held in front of the pack. Far shorter and more sedate in comparison. They said their vows to each other in a field decorated florally. Unlike the private ceremony, this one included petitioning for their mating to be accepted by Myles' parents as their pack leaders. Some pack members hung around afterwards to congratulate them.

It was Myles who ultimately found their mating marks. Lying in bed one night, he'd brushed Mira's hair behind her ear. Unbeknownst to her, covering the gap between her hairline to ear was a mark she'd never had before. A series of intertwining vines, varying in width. Woven between them were her initials. Mira cried happy tears, staring at the photo Myles had taken of it. Seeing the same echoed on him, of course, didn't help matters.

Reflecting back on how much her life had changed over the last six months was startling. Mira felt like she was still dreaming at times, waiting for reality to kick back in. She'd grieved the loss of her father, feeling helplessly lost in the misery of it all. She'd gained a family and a support system she never could have anticipated that first night. She'd found a life partner who accepted her no matter what happened; who stuck by her through thick and thin even when Mira was scared by something as small as trusting him.

Whether it was her secrets being outed, a jealous ex or being kidnapped, there was always a hurdle to bound. Nothing that was fair, but also nothing she could change now. Thinking back, she wasn't sure she'd change some of it.

Along the way, when she faced the hardest challenges, she'd discovered parts of herself she didn't know existed. Mira had changed for the better. She realised that while nothing could replace each person she'd lost, that didn't mean she couldn't make new connections that were just as intrinsically precious. She'd discovered the merit of letting down her guard to those who earned it. She'd learned to forgive herself, to accept the "unique" was a label she could own proudly.

If given the chance, there wasn't a single thing she would change about her life. Because, if not, she wouldn't be where she was now. With all of it behind her, she could celebrate one crucial— intoxicating as a mere idea—fact.

For the first time, Mira could say that truly, she felt like she belonged. 

The End

Sincere thank you to anyone who supported this story throughout. I hope the ending was as full-circle as I hoped it would end up being. 

Would love to hear any thoughts!