Chapter Text
It was quiet when he said it. The kind of quiet that comes after a snowfall, when the wind stops and the world holds its breath.
You were sitting on the porch, wrapped in a thick blanket, your feet curled beneath you, a warm cup cradled in your hands. Joel stood beside the railing, hands in his coat pockets, watching the tree line like it might do something worth remembering.
He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “Back then. When you came through. You didn’t get lost.”
You frowned softly, glancing up at him. “What?”
He exhaled hard. Frost rolled from his lips. “I made sure you’d end up here.”
Your stomach dropped—like hitting a patch of black ice, no warning, no brakes. The mug in your hand suddenly felt heavier. “You… what?”
Joel turned, finally meeting your eyes. He looked calm. Unapologetic. If anything, he looked relieved. Like he’d finally dropped a weight he’d carried too long.
“I saw you come through the checkpoint a few miles away. Heard about the new omega in the trade caravan. Scented you before I even saw you. Didn’t know your name yet. Didn’t matter.”
Your throat felt tight. “Joel…”
“I gave you a map,” he said. “Not the clinic’s route. Took the marker off. Replaced it with a path to my place. Just one red X. You followed it. And the signs I hid or pointed in my direction.”
You stared at him and for a moment, you didn’t speak.
Joel’s voice was rough but steady. “I don’t regret it. Not a second of it. But I should’ve told you sooner.”
The wind picked up. You pulled the blanket tighter. “You let me believe I got lost,” you said quietly. “Let me think I found you by chance.”
Joel moved closer. Slow. Careful. “I was scared that if you knew the truth, about me, how broken and fucked I was. That you would hear from those morons in town or something and I’d never get a chance.”
You didn’t answer right away. The words sat in the air between you, sharp and cold.
Then you looked up, searching his face. “Why not let me get to Jackson first?”
Joel’s expression didn’t change. But his eyes softened. “Because I couldn’t risk losin’ you. Not when you were that close. Not when I knew what you were.”
Your breath caught. “And what am I?”
He reached out slowly, fingers brushing your cheek, his scent laced with quiet desperation. “Mine.”
You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the truth of it settle.
Possessive. Obsessive. Unshakably protective. All of it was true.
And yet—he hadn’t taken you. He’d waited. He’d let you come to him. He just hadn’t been willing to let the world take you first.
You opened your eyes and whispered, “I’m not a prize, Joel.”
“I know that.”
“I had a right to choose.”
“You did,” he said, voice low. “You chose me. I just… set the path.”
Your heart twisted—half fury, half ache. But then you looked at him again. And you saw it: the man who couldn’t bear to lose what little he’d managed to rebuild. The man who loved you enough to bend the road so he wouldn’t miss his only chance.
You stood slowly, stepping into his space. He didn’t move—just let you press your hand to his chest and lean in, resting your forehead against his.
“I hate that you lied,” you murmured. “But I don’t hate why.”
He let out a breath he’d been holding. You scented his jaw slowly, deliberately, then whispered, “Next time, you tell me the truth. Even if it’s dark. Even if it scares me.”
Joel nodded against your skin, voice low. “I will.”
You tilted your head. “And for the record?”
“Yeah?”
“I’d have found my way to you anyway.”
Joel’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you close, mouth brushing your throat.
“Still glad I didn’t take that chance.”
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The fire had burned low. Eli was asleep upstairs, tucked in with his fox and the blanket that still carried your scent. Ellie had gone home hours ago. You stood at the kitchen window, pouring the last of the tea, when you felt him behind you.
Joel’s hand slid to your hip, firm, grounding. His scent wrapped around you like a second skin—thick with alpha heat, edged with something darker.
“You keep watchin’ that window like somethin’s comin’,” he murmured.
You leaned back against his chest. “Just a habit.”
Joel didn’t move. Didn’t breathe for a second—softly, like steel under velvet: “Let ‘em come.”
You turned your head. “Joel…”
He stepped closer, lips brushing your ear, voice dropping into something low and possessive.
“They come for what’s mine—what I built, what I keep —they don’t make it past the gate.”
You swallowed. His hand slid higher, fingers splaying across your ribs, where your scent lived strongest.
“I led you here,” he murmured, “and I’ll burn this whole fuckin’ town to keep you here.”
You turned to face him, heart pounding. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He nodded once. “Good,” Joel said, pulling you close—rough and careful all at once.
“Because I don’t let go of what’s mine.”