Page 153 of Run Wild Omega

“Yes, ma’am. Three to one.”

She nods. “Come in. I’ll need signatures, scent verification, and bond confirmation from all four parties.”

We file into the records office. It’s small, cluttered, lit by fluorescent lights that hum overhead. Justine clears a space on her desk, pulls out a stack of forms, and sets them down.

“Rourke’s been a pain in my ass for three days,” she says, uncapping a pen. “Calling, showing up, demanding expedited processing on that subpoena. After the stunt he and that pack pulled last time with Mara, nobody in this office is on his side.”

She looks at me. “You’re Tess Hartwell. Mara’s sister.”

“Sister-in-law,” I correct. “Close enough.”

“She’s a good woman. Went through hell and came out the other side.” Justine pushes the forms across the desk. “I’m glad someone’s looking out for you the same way Daniel looked out for her.”

I take the pen. The forms are dense, legal language that Miles could probably recite from memory. I don’t read them. I trust him. I trust all of them.

I sign on the first line. Wyatt signs on the second. Dylan on the third. Miles on the fourth.

Justine watches us sign, then pulls out a scent-verification strip. It’s a small, chemically treated card that reacts to bonding pheromones. She holds it up to each of us in turn, waiting for the strip to change color.

It turns purple. All four times.

“Bond confirmed,” she says, noting it on the form. “I’ll process this today. Emergency clause means it’ll be in the registry by end of business. You’ll get a confirmation number and a certified copy mailed to your address.”

She looks at me. “Once this is filed, you’re legally bonded. All four of you. That means inheritance rights, medical decision-making, custody protections, and pack sovereignty under the Regional Omega Accord. It also means no outside pack can file a competing claim. Rourke and the Ashfords are done.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Don’t thank me. Thank your pack.” She caps her pen. “And tell Wyatt to ice his hand. Those knuckles are going to swell.”

I look at Wyatt. He’s standing behind me, his hand cradled against his chest, his jaw tight. But his eyes are on me, and the bond between us pulses with something fierce and protective and quietly triumphant.

We walk out of the county building into the morning sun. The parking lot is empty except for Miles’s car. Rourke’s sedan is gone.

I stand on the sidewalk and breathe. The mountain air fills my lungs, clean and cold. The bonds hum in my chest, three threads woven tight.

“It’s done,” I say.

“It’s done,” Miles confirms.

“What’s left?”

“Daniel,” Wyatt says. “We need to talk to Daniel. He’s been handling the legal strategy for the lawsuit and the Ashford situation. He needs to know about the filing and the bonds so he can adjust the defense.”

“And Mara,” I add. “She deserves to hear it from me.”

I look at the three of them. Miles, composed, his tablet already in hand, pulling up Daniel’s contact information. Dylan, rumpled and warm, his hand finding mine. Wyatt, bruised and bleeding and beautiful, standing close enough that his chest nearly touches my shoulder.

“Let’s go see my parents first,” I say.

We climb into the car. Miles starts the engine. The mountain road stretches out ahead of us.

I lean my head against the window and close my eyes. The bonds hum. The sun warms my face through the glass.

Whatever comes next, I’m not facing it alone.

I’m facing it with my pack.

Epilogue