Ready for good memories?

Kurt frowned at the scribbled note he’d found on the pillow next to him. It was in Ten’s handwriting. She’d told him once she’d struggled to learn to write with Momma Crow, and so her handwriting wasn’t the best. But for him? He adored the chicken-scratch because it was a part of her story. So what? She didn’t have perfect writing. Every letter was a testament to her resilience. And he smiled at the heart she’d drawn to dot the i in the word memories.

Holy shit, he felt like he’d been leveled by a Mack truck. That was good though, right? It meant he was still alive? Still kickin’? He felt half dead, but half-dead was way better than all-dead.

With a grunt of effort, Kurt sat up in bed.

“Ten?” he called. “Gunner?”

No answer.

Where was everyone?

Kurt positioned himself on the edge of the bed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “What happened? The last thing he remembered was coming out of the precinct. And…Ten. Then Trina? Cooper? The Two Claws Clan gathered around him? Maybe that part was a dream.

Fuck, what time was it? He squinted out the bedroom window but the mid-day sun was blasting him in the face. Why hadn’t his alarm gone off? Or why hadn’t Trigger and Colt come in here yelling at him for being a lazy SOB. Or why hadn’t Gunner woken him up beggin’ pancakes? Or Ten, pressing her perfect tits on him asking for dick.

“Hello?” he called to no answer.

God, he was so confused. What day was it? What year was it? What century?

He dragged his palm down his beard. It wasn’t much longer. There was a pair of sleeping bags on the floor. What the hell? He stood with a grunt and stretched his arms up as far as they would go. His muscles were achy, but the stretch helped. He cracked his neck as he padded into the living room, the wooden floorboards cool under his bare feet. He frowned at the sleeping bags around Gunner’s bed. Okaaay. He’d apparently slept through a huge slumber party.

As he chugged milk straight from the jug, he realized the floor was covered in pillows and blankets. The soreness in his muscles was easing by the second. Kurt replaced the lid, shoved the milk back in the fridge, and shut the door. A new picture held by a yellow, magnetic chip clip fluttered on it. It was a new drawing by Gunner. On it were stick figures holding hands with messy printed names above each one. Trina, Cooper, Ten, Gunner, Alpha.

Alpha?

At the bottom in messy bubble letters, it said The New Darby Clan, and Gunner had signed it Gunner Boy.

Huh.

A shower. He needed a scalding hot shower, and it would clear this fog of confusion from his head.

In the bathroom, the mirror started steaming up immediately after he hit the hot tap. As he stood with one arm locked against the edge of the sink, brushing his teeth, frowning at his lightened eyes, wondering what the hell he’d slept through, it hit him like lightning.

His chest. It wasn’t bleeding.

It didn’t even hurt.

Kurt jerked upright. He bit down on his toothbrush to hold it in place so he could run his hands over his torso. No pain. No open gashes. Just silver scars. “What the fuck, what the fuck?” he muttered around the minty foam in his mouth.

He spit and rinsed and then twisted in the mirror, checking the claw marks that Chase, the former Darby Clan Alpha, had made the night Kurt had killed him. Silver scars. All healed. The ones on his neck? Healed. On his arms? Healed. And other than a little muscle stiffness, he didn’t hurt. For the first time in months, he didn’t hurt.

He let off a shocked laugh and ran his palm across the fogged-up mirror to look at his chest again. “I’m alive,” he murmured. “I’m alive,” he said louder just to test the words. Holy fuck.

He’d never been so stunned in his whole life. Kurt stepped into the shower just to wash away the layer of fear he’d worn since that Alpha challenge. Fear of not being here for Gunner. Fear of getting close to Ten. Fear of letting her and his boy down. Fear of missing their whole lives. He’d kept it all inside all these months so that he wouldn’t make his dying any harder on the people he loved.

And as the hot water blasted against his skin, he just…broke. His back hit the shower wall, and he slid down. He went to pieces with relief. He had these vivid memories of Trig’s dad and the impact he had on his son. Kurt had been thinking he wouldn’t be able to be that for Gunner. Thinking his boy would eventually forget what he even looked like.

There was a soft knock on the door. “Kurt?” Ten asked in a small voice.

He tried to call out that he was a mess, don’t come in, but nothing came out. He was too choked up.

The door creaked open. When she pushed the shower curtain to the side, he could see her. His Ten. She was an angel. Wild, pretty hair, her cheeks all pink, her soft brown eyes full of emotion as she dragged her gaze over his body.

“What did you do?” he whispered.

Ten pulled her shirt over her head. And then she shucked her jeans, climbed into the tub with him, and curled against his chest, right between his legs, as the water rained down on them.

“You made a wish that I could save you.” She lifted his arm and traced half-healed bite marks. “You just needed the strength of a Clan under you, Alpha.”

He rubbed his cheek on the top of her head and hugged her tight against him. So that’s how she’d done it. She’d made him an Alpha. She’d brought in Trina and Cooper. That’s what Gunner’s picture was. “I’m really alive,” he croaked out, his throat hurting from the grit of his feelings. He never cried. Never.

Ten’s shoulders were shaking now and her little red painted nails were digging into his skin as she held onto him. God, he loved her. Loved. Her. Everything about her. The feral side and the human side. Tough, sweet, beautiful, caring, loyal little badass.

She’d really done it. She’d granted a wish he’d made while thinking there was no way he could be saved. From this moment on, he would never question what Ten could do.

He hadn’t wanted to be Alpha after what had happened to Laney, but he was different now. Older and wiser with more life-experience under his belt. He wasn’t the power-hungry animal he’d been back then. Now he was just grateful to the people who’d saved him. And now they had his life, his fealty, his dedication, his loyalty. He owed them effort.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he murmured. “And Gunner, Trina, Cooper… I can’t promise I’ll be good at this, but I won’t stop trying.”

When Ten looked up at him, her eyes were swimming with raw pride. “You were always meant for this, Kurt. You’re going to be an amazing Alpha. A great leader. Great protector. Your life got a restart, and I know you. I know what you’re capable of.”

He cupped her damp cheek and sipped her lips as a silent I love you. As a silent thank you, and when he eased back, his mate offered him the sweetest smile.

“What are you smiling like that for, pretty girl?”

And Ten, his Ten, nuzzled her face against his chest. “Your legend starts now, and I’m here for the very beginning of it. I’m lucky.”

But she didn’t see. Didn’t realize how beautiful and special she was. She was an Origin, and her legend had begun the day she was born. But above what she was, who she was mattered most. She was full of light, love, and fierce devotion, and she’d chosen him. She’d come in and changed the course of his whole life, and Gunner’s, too. She’d created a new Clan just to make him stronger, and she would never ask for anything in return. That wasn’t her style.

Ten found her joy in making others happy.

He was the lucky one.