Updated Nov 7, 2025 • ~8 min read
Briar woke slowly, awareness returning in layers.
Warmth. Safety. The crackling of a fire. Magnus’s heartbeat steady beneath her ear.
She opened her eyes to find pale morning light filtering through the windows, illuminating a world transformed by snow. They were still tangled together on the floor by the fireplace, wrapped in blankets that had somehow stayed in place through the night.
Magnus was already awake, his hand moving in lazy circles on her back.
“Morning,” he rumbled.
“Morning.” Briar pushed up slightly to look at him. His hair was disheveled, there was a crease on his cheek from where her head had been pressed, and he looked absolutely perfect. “How long have you been awake?”
“Not long. Didn’t want to move and wake you.” His hand came up to cup her face. “You’re beautiful in the morning light.”
“I probably have bedhead and drool on my face.”
“Beautiful,” he repeated firmly, pulling her down for a kiss.
It started gentle—a lazy good morning kiss with no urgency behind it. But then Briar shifted, her leg sliding between his, and Magnus made a low sound in his throat that sent heat pooling in her belly.
“We should check the storm,” she murmured against his lips, even as she kissed him again.
“Storm can wait.” Magnus rolled them so she was beneath him, his weight pressing her into the nest of blankets. “This is more important.”
“This?” Briar arched up against him, loving the way his eyes darkened.
“This.” He kissed down her throat, finding the claiming mark on her shoulder and lavishing attention on it. “You. Us. Making sure you know how much I love you.”
“I know.” But her breath hitched as his hand slid under her shirt. “But I’m open to reminders.”
Magnus laughed against her skin. “Good. Because I plan to remind you every single day.”
They made love slowly, leisurely, with the fire warming their skin and snow falling outside. It was different from that first desperate claiming—softer, more playful, full of laughter and whispered words. Learning each other in daylight, taking time to explore and savor.
Afterward, they lay tangled together, both breathing hard, completely content.
“I need to check the generator,” Magnus said eventually, but made no move to leave. “And we should probably eat something.”
“Probably.” Briar traced patterns on his chest. “But I’m very comfortable right now.”
“Me too.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “We could just stay here forever. Forget the outside world exists.”
“Tempting.” She pushed up on her elbow to look at him. “But I should check my phone at some point. Make sure the café didn’t burn down or anything.”
Magnus’s expression shifted slightly—something that looked like concern. “Your phone’s been off this whole time?”
“Dead battery. I haven’t charged it since before the first storm.” Briar shrugged. “Haven’t really needed it. Everyone I care about is either here or knows I’m with you.”
“You should check it. Just in case.” But there was tension in his voice now. “There might be messages. Things you need to deal with.”
Briar studied him, sensing something beneath his words. “Magnus, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just—” He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Reality is going to come crashing back at some point. Bills, responsibilities, the café. We’ve been in this bubble up here, but it can’t last forever.”
“I know that.” Briar sat up too, pulling a blanket around herself. “But that doesn’t change what we decided last night. I’m staying, Magnus. Reality or not.”
“What if reality makes that complicated?” He stood, pacing to the window. “What if there are problems with the café, or your finances, or—I don’t know. A hundred things we haven’t thought about.”
“Then we’ll deal with them.” She moved to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Together. That’s what partners do.”
Magnus turned in her arms, his expression vulnerable. “I’m terrified you’re going to realize this was all temporary. That the storm forced us together and once real life comes back, you’ll leave.”
“Hey.” Briar took his face in her hands. “Look at me. I’m not leaving. Not because of bills or responsibilities or reality. I chose you. I choose you every day. That’s not going to change.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She kissed him softly. “Now come on. Let’s check the damage from the storm, get the generator working, and then I’ll deal with my phone. One thing at a time.”
The storm had dumped nearly three feet of snow overnight, and it took Magnus two hours to dig out enough to check the generator. The fuel line had frozen—an easy fix once he could access it—and by noon they had power again.
“Civilization returns,” Briar said as the lights flickered on. “Kind of miss the pioneer aesthetic though.”
“We can turn them back off if you want.” But Magnus was smiling, more relaxed now that they had heat and power restored.
Briar found her phone charger and plugged in her dead phone. It took a few minutes to power on, and when it did, it immediately started buzzing with notifications.
“Wow.” She stared at the screen. “Forty-seven missed calls. Dozens of texts.”
Magnus tensed. “From who?”
“Mostly Calla and Rosie.” Briar scrolled through, frowning. “Some from Pete. A few unknown numbers.” She tapped one of the voicemails and put it on speaker.
Calla’s voice filled the kitchen, tense and urgent: “Briar, call me as soon as you get this. There’s been some trouble at the café. Nothing major, but you need to know about it. Call me.”
The next voicemail was from Pete: “Hey Briar, don’t panic, but someone broke a window at The Honey Pot last night. I’ve already boarded it up and filed a police report. Everything else is secure. Call when you can.”
Magnus’s expression had gone dark and dangerous. “Someone broke your window?”
“Apparently.” Briar’s hands were shaking as she listened to the rest of the messages. More from Calla saying the pack was investigating. Rosie saying she’d seen some unfamiliar shifters in town. Pete assuring her the damage was minimal but the intent was clear.
The last voicemail was from two days ago, Calla again: “Okay, Magnus texted that you’re both fine and riding out the storm. Good. But we need to talk when you get back. The window wasn’t random—someone’s sending a message. Call me.”
Briar set down the phone, her appetite gone. “Someone vandalized my café.”
“Someone tried to intimidate you.” Magnus’s voice was cold. “To scare you into leaving.”
“Well, it’s not going to work.” But her voice shook slightly.
Magnus pulled her into his arms. “I know. But we’re dealing with this. Together. No more hiding up here while someone messes with what’s yours.”
“What do we do?”
“We go to town. Talk to Calla. Find out who did this.” His jaw clenched. “And make it very clear that you’re under my protection. That anyone who touches you or your property answers to me.”
“That sounds very alpha bear of you.”
“It is.” He didn’t look apologetic. “You’re my mate. No one threatens my mate and walks away without consequences.”
Briar should probably be concerned about the possessive edge in his voice. Instead, she felt safe. Protected. Like she finally had someone in her corner who wouldn’t let her face threats alone.
“When do we leave?” she asked.
“Tomorrow. Roads should be passable by then.” Magnus pulled back to look at her. “But Briar? This might get messy. There might be confrontation, pack politics, things getting uncomfortable.”
“I can handle uncomfortable.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve handled worse.”
“I know you have.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But you don’t have to handle this alone. That’s what I’m trying to say. Whatever happens, we face it together.”
“Together,” Briar agreed.
They spent the rest of the day preparing—Magnus making calls to Calla and Pete, getting more information. Briar going through her café finances, making sure she could afford the window repair and any other damage. Both of them trying not to worry about what they’d find when they went back to town.
That night, back in Magnus’s bed, Briar found herself restless.
“Can’t sleep?” Magnus asked, pulling her closer.
“Just thinking.” She traced the line of his jaw. “About how much has changed in such a short time. A month ago I was alone, running a café, trying to figure out my new life. Now I have you, and a mate bond, and apparently enemies who break windows.”
“Regrets?”
“None.” She said it firmly. “Not about you, not about us. The window thing is annoying, but it’s not going to chase me away.”
“Good.” Magnus’s arms tightened around her. “Because I meant what I said. I’m never letting you go.”
“Promises, promises.”
“I always keep my promises.” He kissed her, slow and deep. “You’re stuck with me, Briar Locke. For better or worse.”
“Then I guess we’re doing this.” She smiled against his lips. “Life and all its complications.”
“Together,” Magnus said again, like the word was a vow.
“Together,” Briar echoed.
And wrapped in each other’s arms, they faced the uncertainty of tomorrow with the certainty of each other.
It would be enough.
It had to be.
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