August 22nd-

Sam has a surprise for me. I have tried every trick in the book and the man still won’t tell me what it is. It better be good considering he sprung the whole “werewolf” thing on me.

“Are we there yet?” I ask for the umpteenth time, as we hiked up the trail. I grunted as I slipped on a rock, skinning my knee.

“Almost, darling.”

Around the bend was a cottage. Growing up, I never really had much space to myself. Our house was always filled with siblings and siblings’ friends. There was always so much noise and commotion around that I’d usually end up hiding under the stairs like Harry Potter to have a moment of privacy to myself. I’d like to daydream about having a cottage to myself where I could paint and enjoy the peace I’d always craved.

“Do you like it?” asked Sam, nervously, wrapping his arms around my waist. Of course, I loved it. Somehow, Sam had gone into my HGTV-fueled dream world and created the cottage of my dreams.

“It’s beautiful. I thought we lived at the packhouse near everybody else.” Since we had returned to the pack, I had taken a position in the nursery and worked as much as I could in the garden. I tried helping in the kitchen but was kicked out when it was revealed, I was a failure as a cook.

“Every family makes a den of their own,” Sam explained. “The packhouse allows us to socialize with others and help meet the needs of our community. We can continue to stay there if you want, but I thought this could be the home for our family.”

“Can we go inside?”

Sam scooped me up into his arms and ran lightspeed to the cottage door. “It’s a tradition to carry the bride over the threshold.”

“Cornball…”

Sam built our little home away from home himself. He explained that it was another rite of passage for his people when a young wolf turned eighteen, the Spirits could grant them a mate at any time and they needed to be ready.

The first level of the cottage was divided in half by a staircase. To the left was the sitting area with a stone fireplace. Masonry was another of Sam’s mad skills, I might brag. The sitting area was filled with overstuffed furniture and shelving units filled with books. To the right were the kitchen and dining area. When I protested about my lack of cooking ability and reliance on microwave dinners, Sam just chuckled and reminded me that he was a good cook. Ladies and gents, I hit the jackpot with Sam. I tell ya.

Upstairs was the sleeping area. There were four smaller bedrooms and a shared bathroom for any future family members that might be joining us in the future. I put my hand on my stomach. I might be wrong, but I had a feeling those family members might come sooner rather than later.

“Where do we sleep?” I ask after Sam finished showing me the crafting area at the back of the cottage.

He took my hand. “Right this way, love.” Sam led me to a door of the side of the sitting area that I had somehow missed on my first few times through this room.