Esme sat on the edge of Emily's porch, her hands clasped together tightly. She had spent the better part of two days oscillating between relief and unease. The gentle hum of the afternoon surrounded her, the faint sound of birdsong doing little to soothe her thoughts.

She trusted Emily. She trusted Sam. She trusted Grace's new pack to protect her. But trust did little to temper the knot of anxiety twisting in her chest. Her connection with Grace, though recent, was deep; deeper than she could have anticipated. It was the kind of bond that made every moment apart feel unnatural, every passing hour like a test of faith.

Her fingers tightened, nails grazing her palms. Grace was just behind those walls, resting, healing. Esme had seen her broken body mend itself, but the pain of watching her mate endure such agony wasn't something she could easily forget.

Inside the house, Grace lay in the spare room, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only outward sign of her recovery. She had remained unconscious for most of the past two days, her body forced into rest by sheer exhaustion. Though the wounds were gone, the weight of her transformation lingered, haunting her even in sleep.

Esme glanced toward the door, her resolve hardening. She wouldn't let Grace face this alone, not now—not ever. Her instincts told her to hold on tighter, to shield her mate from everything that had brought her to this point.

A soft creak pulled Esme from her thoughts as Emily stepped onto the porch, her quiet presence grounding.

"She's still sleeping," Emily said, her voice low but steady. "You should sit with her when she wakes. I think it'll help."

Esme gave a small nod, grateful for Emily's calm demeanor. "Thank you—for all of this," she said, her voice soft. "I know Grace is strong, but…" She trailed off, her words caught in the swirl of emotions she couldn't quite express.

"She'll need you," Emily replied, her gaze steady. "But you'll both need time."

Esme nods and moves up from her seat on the step. "I have had nothing but time, dear. This...feels so much different."

Emily can't come to grasp at how heavy those words mean for Esme. This has been her one and only life. She has had her own battle and short comings...but what has she seen? This vampire. This... dare she call her, a woman.

Esme smoothed her hands over the front of her dress to displace any wrinkles. A curt nod from this elegant vampire and she enters the doorway, making her way to the small spare room. Esme opened the door and entered, the floorboards creaking faintly under her steps. Grace lay on the bed, her breathing steady, her body curled slightly to one side as though even in sleep, she sought comfort from the storm raging inside her.

Esme moved to sit on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on her mate. The young shifter's face was serene in the dim light filtering through the curtains, but Esme could feel the weight of Grace's exhaustion, could see the faint twitch of her fingers—a subconscious echo of her pain.

As she reached out to brush a strand of hair from Grace's face, Esme's hand hesitated, her mind snagging on an old, familiar fear.

It was the same fear that had plagued her for over a century. The monster inside her, the predator that saw humans as prey, still lurked beneath the surface. Even now, surrounded by Grace's warmth and innocence, it whispered insidious thoughts to her—reminders of what she was, what she would always be.

She clenched her hand into a fist and pulled it back, her breath catching.

No. She would not allow that part of herself to overshadow the love she felt. Grace wasn't just a mate. She was family.

Esme straightened her back, her expression softening. "You've endured so much already," she whispered, though she knew Grace couldn't hear her. "I'll do everything I can to help you see how much stronger you've become."

Her thoughts shifted briefly to her own life outside of this moment, the obligations she'd pushed aside in the wake of Grace's transformation. Her business, her clients. She loved her work—designing spaces that felt like home for others—but the thought of returning to it now seemed almost trivial.

Still, Esme knew she couldn't ignore her responsibilities forever. The appointments she'd canceled, the projects left unfinished—they would need her attention soon. She sighed, brushing a hand through her caramel locks as she resolved to make a plan.

But not yet. For now, Grace needed her. And Esme wasn't ready to leave her side.

Esme remained seated at Grace's bedside, her fingers lightly brushing the young girl's hand. She could feel the warmth radiating from her mate, the heat that was ever-present in her shifter nature. It grounded her, reminding Esme of everything she was fighting for.

The soft pad of footsteps reached her ears before the faint creak of the door did. She didn't look up right away, her attention still on Grace, but she knew it was Emily.

The human lingered at the threshold, her presence unintrusive but steady. She didn't announce herself, didn't feel the need to fill the quiet with unnecessary words. Instead, she simply watched, her gaze steady and thoughtful as she took in the scene before her.

Esme finally glanced up, their eyes meeting. No words passed between them, but there was an unspoken understanding in Emily's calm demeanor—a silent acknowledgment of the weight Esme carried.

Emily didn't need to say, I know you won't leave her. It was evident in every careful movement Esme made, in the way her hand lingered protectively over Grace's.

"I'm in the kitchen," Emily said softly, breaking the quiet with a tone that carried no expectation. She didn't tell Esme to rest or suggest she needed to eat—human habits she instinctively held back from imposing. Instead, her words were simply informative, like a beacon offered but never demanded.

Esme nodded, her lips curving in a faint smile. "Thank you, Emily," she replied, her voice just as gentle.

Emily inclined her head, a gesture of understanding rather than dismissal, and turned to leave. She paused only briefly at the doorway, her gaze flicking back to Grace before continuing on her way.

The quiet settled back into the room, but it no longer felt heavy. Esme glanced down at Grace, her fingers resuming their absent-minded stroke along her mate's wrist. She could still sense Emily's presence lingering in the house, not hovering, but ready should she be needed.

Esme appreciated that. The silent way Emily offered her support, her trust—it was human in a way that resonated deeply. For a vampire who had spent centuries balancing the fine line between her humanity and her instincts, Emily's quiet faith was both grounding and humbling.

Esme let out a soft sigh and leaned closer to Grace. "She's a good one, your friend Emily," she murmured, though she wasn't sure if Grace could hear her.

She settled back into the silence, her thoughts steadied by the unspoken bond now shared between herself and the human woman.

The quiet of Emily's home was broken by the sound of the front door creaking open, followed by a deep, familiar voice calling out.

"Emily! We're starving!"

Esme's sharp ears picked up the distinct tones of Embry and Jared, their voices overlapping as the door swung wider. The faint thud of shoes being kicked off was followed by heavier footsteps. Paul's unmistakable laughter echoed through the house, loud and unapologetic.

Emily, who had been busy in the kitchen, set down her mixing spoon and rolled her eyes with a fond smile. "It's always about food with them," she said, glancing toward Esme, who had now risen from her spot by Grace's bedside.

The noise from the boys making themselves welcome must have set Esme's instincts into high alert. The once light amber color in her eyes were darkened. She walked away from her mate just to check on the noise and perhaps to ease her curiosity of what its like to be around Graces Pack.

Esme smirked faintly. "Teenagers, I take it?"

"Teenagers, wolves—what's the difference?" Emily joked, though her words were warm. "They're bottomless pits. Sam's with them too, which means I'll need to double whatever I was planning to make." She moved toward the doorway but paused when Esme stepped closer.

"Do you need help?" Esme offered, her polite tone disguising the fact that she wasn't entirely sure how she could help with the preparations. She wanted to cook more for Bella and grace, but the events that have transpired in over the last couple of months have stopped them all from practicing anything congruent to normal.

Emily gave her a curious look before shaking her head. "No, thank you. But I appreciate the offer. I have plenty of helping hands" She adds with a teasing wink.

Before Esme could reply, the pack made their entrance into the living room. Embry, tall and gangly despite his strength, was the first to spot her. He froze mid-step, his sharp eyes darting between the vampire and Grace's closed bedroom door. He felt trapped. Part of him wanted to see how his friend was doing, while the other half understood the consequences of that simple action.

"Whoa," Jared muttered, coming up behind him. His easy grin faltered for a moment, though it returned quickly when Emily appeared behind Esme. "Didn't know we'd have company hanging around still." He gave Embry's shoulders a small pat to try and ease the tension built.

Paul followed, his arms crossed as he sized up Esme with a cocky smirk. "Guess the house is a safe zone now, huh? Bet that's weird for you."

"Paul," Sam's firm tone cut through the teasing, silencing him instantly. Alpha entered last, his presence commanding as he shot Paul a warning look. "Behave yourself."

Paul shrugged, muttering something under his breath, but the tension eased as Sam turned his attention to Esme. He gave her a brief nod, his expression neutral but respectful. "Esme."

"Sam," she replied, returning the nod.

Emily clapped her hands lightly, drawing everyone's focus back to her. "All right, enough standing around. You're all hungry, and I'm not cooking alone. Jared, Embry, set the table. Paul, you can help with the drinks."

Paul groaned but moved toward the kitchen with Jared, while Embry shot Emily a cheeky salute before following. Sam lingered, his gaze briefly flicking to Grace's door.

"She's still sleeping?" he asked quietly, his voice softer now.

Esme nodded, her protective instincts flaring just slightly at the question. "She's still recovering," she said simply.

Sam studied her for a moment, then gave another small nod. "Good."

The room filled with the sound of activity as the younger pack members busied themselves with Emily's instructions, their boisterous energy bringing life back into the house. Esme found herself observing them with quiet curiosity, noting the easy camaraderie between them.

Emily's voice came from the kitchen as she scolded Paul for sneaking a bite of something off the counter, and Esme couldn't help the faint smile that touched her lips.

Despite the chaos, there was something comforting about the pack's presence. They were loud, unpredictable, and unapologetically themselves—but they were also a family, one that Grace had unknowingly become a part of.

And, by extension, so had Esme.

Lunch was loud.

The Pack devoured Emily's carefully prepared meal with the enthusiasm of wolves who hadn't eaten in days. Plates clattered as Embry and Jared competed to see who could pile more food onto their plates, while Paul shamelessly swiped extras from the both of them, earning sharp elbows in return. Sam ate quietly, his steady presence anchoring the chaos, though his sharp gaze missed nothing.

Esme sat off to the side, observing the group with quiet curiosity. The contrast between their human and wolf sides was striking; here, they were just teenagers laughing over bad jokes and teasing each other with the easy camaraderie of a family.

"Embry, slow down!" Emily scolded, smacking his hand lightly with a wooden spoon as he reached for another helping. "There's enough for everyone if you don't inhale it all at once."

Embry grinned sheepishly, his mouth half-full. "Sorry, Em. It's just really good!"

Paul smirked. "Yeah, you just love her cooking. It's not like you've got a crush or anything."

The table erupted into laughter as Embry flushed bright red, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

"You're all children," Sam muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Esme's gaze softened as she watched them. This was a side of the Pack she hadn't seen before—a side that reminded her of what family was supposed to feel like. For a moment, she let herself relax, the ever-present tension in her chest loosening slightly.

The laughter faded as the sound of a door opening reached their ears. Everyone turned toward the hallway, and Esme was on her feet in an instant, her heightened senses already registering the familiar heartbeat.

Grace appeared in the doorway, her hair slightly mussed and her movements slow but steady. She looked around the room, blinking at the sudden attention, before giving a small, tired smile. "Hey."

The Pack was on their feet almost as quickly as Esme. Jared and Embry started toward her, but Sam held up a hand, halting them. "If you want to stay breathing, sit. Down." Sam wasn't about to have blood spilled in his own home. These pups needed to understand that Grace had been through a horrible experience and Esme was no human. She would tear them up if they approached too quickly.

The boys shared glances with one another and agreed that sitting down was for the best. Knowing that she had waken up was good enough for them.

Grace's gaze flicked to Esme, who was already by her side, her expression a mix of relief and concern. "How are you feeling?" Esme asked softly, her voice low enough that only Grace could hear.

"Tired," Grace admitted, leaning slightly into her as she dropped her forehead against her vampires. Grace released a small sigh and then brought her lips down to meet with hers. "Now, I think I'm a little better." She chuckled and let her vampire move them toward the table.

Emily was already pulling out a chair for her, shooing Paul away when he tried to reclaim his spot. "Sit here, Grace. You need to eat something."

"Not too much," Esme added gently, helping Grace into the seat. "Your body's still adjusting."

As Grace settled into her chair, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The boys stood still, their previous noise and movement stilled by an unspoken tension. Their gazes were locked on Grace, watching her every move with an intensity that even Esme could feel.

It wasn't just concern towards what she had gone through, it was something deeper. Their wolves hesitated, waiting.

Sam leaned back in his chair, observing quietly as the realization struck him. The boys wouldn't continue eating their meal until Grace had taken her first bite. Normally, such differences are reserved for the Alpha—a gesture of respect and acknowledgment of authority.

Grace, oblivious to the weight of their stares, picked up her fork and took a small bite. The Pack exhaled collectively, and the tension broke as they returned to their meals.

Sam's lips twitched into a faint smile as he glanced at Esme, who had also noticed the shift. It wasn't dominance that commanded this respect—it was something intrinsic to Grace. Something her wolf had already claimed without her even realizing it.

Esme stayed close, her watchful gaze never straying far from Grace. She could feel the bond between them strengthening with each passing moment—a connection that went beyond blood, beyond instinct.

For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to hope.

Sam set his empty plate down with a quiet clink, rising from his chair with a glance toward Emily. He pressed a lingering kiss to her temple before turning back to the table. His gaze settled on Grace, steady but unreadable, lingering longer than it needed to.

"I need to visit a few homes," he said, voice calm but weighted. "Word's already spreading. They need to hear from me that you're safe—and not a threat."

Grace blinked, her brow rising slightly as she chewed the last bite of bacon, the strip still half-hanging from her fingers. She swallowed, giving a small nod. "Right. I get it. Makes sense."

But there was a tension behind her words, barely masked by the forced casualness of her tone. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her plate as she dropped her gaze.

Esme caught the subtle shift immediately. Her hand, cool but comforting, settled gently on Grace's arm. She didn't speak, but the warmth in her expression said enough: I'm here. You're not alone.

Sam noticed too. The stiffness in his shoulders softened slightly as he held Esme's gaze in silent gratitude. Then, with a final nod, he turned back to Emily.

"I'll be back before dark."

Emily returned his look with a soft smile, a silent exchange that held a depth of trust. Without another word, Sam crossed the room and slipped through the door, the soft click echoing in the quiet that followed.

The silence stretched. Grace shifted, finally setting the forgotten bacon back on her plate with a sigh. "Well... that wasn't awkward at all." Her voice was tight with sarcasm, though the slight drop of her shoulders betrayed her discomfort. "What, do they think I'm gonna, like, lose it if someone breathes wrong?"

Emily, clearing plates at the sink, glanced over with a small, knowing smile. "They just need time to adjust. You've been through a lot—and so have they. It's how they protect the tribe."

Grace exhaled through her nose, nodding slowly but still looking unconvinced. "Yeah. I get it. Still feels weird, though."

Esme's hand remained on her arm, her voice soft yet unwavering. "It will for a while. But it's not about fear, Grace. They're looking out for you too."

Grace hesitated, her defenses easing just a little under Esme's steady reassurance. "…Yeah. Okay."

She sat quietly at the breakfast table, the half-eaten plate of food in front of her going cold as she poked at the remnants with her fork. The silence felt heavy despite the low hum of conversation from the kitchen where Emily was washing dishes.

Jared exchanged a glance with Embry, who nodded subtly before Jared leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. "You did good, you know. Holding your own. It's not easy—what you're dealing with."

Grace let out a soft huff, eyes fixed on her plate. "Didn't feel like I held my own," she muttered. "I lost control."

Paul, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up, his voice softer than usual. "You came back. That's what matters."

Embry's tone was thoughtful, though his eyes glimmered with a touch of understanding. "You didn't hurt anyone, Grace. We've all been there. Some of us worse than others." He threw a glance at Paul, who grunted in response.

Grace's lips pressed into a thin line. She could feel the weight of their stares, the unspoken thoughts hanging in the air. "I scared everyone, though," she said softly, her gaze dropping to her hands. "I can feel it. You're all still...on edge."

Jared leaned forward, elbows on the table, his gaze firm yet gentle. "It's not fear. It's respect. What you did back there—it changed something. It's like...our wolves can feel it." He paused, as though weighing his words carefully. "But that doesn't mean you're alone in this. We're still your pack."

Paul gave a loud, exaggerated sigh, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "Yeah, you're stuck with us now. Annoying little sister vibes and all."

Grace blinked, surprised by the lightness of his tone. Then, despite herself, she let out a breathy laugh. "Annoying, huh? You sure about that, Paul?"

"Absolutely." He grinned, his voice softening slightly. "But, seriously...if you ever need to blow off steam, I'm your guy."

A small knot in Grace's chest loosened, her eyes scanning the faces of her pack. She nodded slowly, the weight of their acceptance sinking in. "Thanks, guys."

Embry's warm smile was the final reassurance. "Anytime. That's what pack's for."

A quiet understanding settled between them, a rare moment of peace in the aftermath of everything.

Esme, sitting close to Grace, kept her attention fixed on her, never straying far. The soft tension in the air didn't escape her notice, but she could see the smallest shift in Grace's expression. The weight in her shoulders seemed to ease, even if only a little, as the pack's teasing and warmth filled the room.

She watched Embry's thoughtful words and Jared's calm reassurance, his voice carefully chosen to both comfort and strengthen Grace. Even Paul's playful jabs seemed to be the right kind of distraction, and Esme saw the affection behind them, the way he was trying to get Grace to relax, even if his methods were more blunt than she would have liked.

They care, Esme thought softly, a quiet sense of pride blooming in her chest. They're here for her.

Her eyes stayed on Grace, observing how she had begun to breathe a little easier, how the faint tension in her posture had softened. Grace hadn't completely shed the guarded look in her eyes, but it was better than before. Esme's heart ached with the knowledge that the girl still had so much to navigate, but she was walking this journey with the pack by her side.

Without thinking, Esme extended her hand, fingers hovering just above Grace's. She wasn't sure if Grace wanted contact, but she needed to offer it—to silently show she was there, to support her. But as if responding to some unspoken need, Grace's hand moved toward hers, fingers curling around Esme's with a quiet certainty.

Esme's breath caught, and she allowed herself a small, relieved smile as their hands gently intertwined. The touch was tender, a simple connection, but to Esme, it felt like everything.

The conversation continued around them, but in that moment, Esme only had eyes for Grace. She knew this journey was hers to take, but Esme would walk beside her—quietly, patiently—every step of the way.

As the laughter filled the room again, Esme leaned back slightly, content. Grace was no longer alone in her struggle. She was part of something bigger, something that was beginning to heal her piece by piece.

Here we are. Working past the nitty gritty of any story. The slow-slow-slow burn that leads up to the exciting bits!