Silas had been pack long enough to know the three most important rules of the cabin.
One: Mark’s labels were not suggestions.
Two: Gabriel’s emergency cereal was not for emergencies.
Three: Thane drove the Humvee.
The third rule was not written down anywhere.
It didn’t need to be.
It existed in the air. In the key hook. In Gabriel’s tone whenever he said “Thane’s Humvee.” In Mark’s careful avoidance of all unnecessary driving discussions. In the way Thane’s paw automatically closed over the keys whenever anyone looked in their general direction too long.
Silas respected the rule.
Mostly.
He only looked at the keys six or seven times a day.
That was personal growth.
Sunday afternoon, Gabriel caught him doing it.
Silas stood near the front door, pretending to study the hook arrangement. His keys hung on the fourth hook. His Red Dirt safety vest hung beneath them. Thane’s Humvee keys hung beside them, heavy and black and obviously important.
Gabriel appeared silently at his shoulder.
“You know staring doesn’t count as asking.”
Silas flinched.
“I wasn’t staring.”
“You were emotionally orbiting.”
Silas turned.
“That’s not a real phrase.”
“It is now. Pack generates language.”
Mark looked up from the kitchen table.
“Unfortunately.”
Thane was on the sofa with coffee, wearing the innocent expression of someone who had already heard too much.
Silas stepped away from the hook.
“I was just looking.”
Thane took a sip.
“At my keys.”
Silas’s ears lowered.
“At the key area.”
Gabriel smiled.
“The key area where your heart lives.”
Silas pointed at him.
“I hate you before dinner.”
“Flexible schedule.”
Mark closed his tablet.
“If you want to drive the Humvee, ask.”
Silas froze.
Thane froze harder.
Gabriel slowly turned toward Mark with reverence.
“Oh, Mark chose violence.”
Mark looked confused.
“I chose efficiency.”
Thane set his coffee down.
“No.”
Silas immediately nodded.
“Okay.”
Gabriel looked at Silas.
“No, no, no. Don’t okay this. We’re at a historic crossroads.”
Thane looked at Gabriel.
“We are not.”
“We absolutely are. The alpha has been emotionally challenged by the logistics wolf.”
Mark said, “That sentence is nonsense.”
Gabriel pointed at Thane.
“His face says otherwise.”
Thane’s face, unfortunately, said several things.
None of them were relaxed.
Silas took a step back.
“I don’t have to drive it.”
Thane looked at him.
That made it worse.
Silas wasn’t pushing. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t even asking now. He was backing away from something he wanted because Thane’s discomfort mattered to him.
That was unfair.
Thane hated growth.
He sighed.
“You have a valid license.”
Silas’s ears lifted by a fraction.
“Yes.”
“Hale has approved you driving your own vehicle.”
“Yes.”
“Mark confirmed insurance.”
Mark nodded.
“I added Silas as an approved household driver yesterday.”
Thane turned.
“You did what?”
Mark blinked.
“It was obvious this was coming.”
Gabriel put both paws over his muzzle and sank slowly into a chair.
Thane stared at Mark.
Mark continued.
“The policy change covers the Yukon, Xterra, and Humvee. It does not override probation restrictions or lawful operation requirements.”
“You added him to Humvee insurance without telling me.”
“You were not emotionally ready.”
Gabriel made a strangled sound.
Silas looked like he was trying very hard not to exist loudly.
Thane rubbed both paws over his face.
“I’m surrounded by betrayal.”
Gabriel whispered, “By love.”
“By betrayal with paperwork.”
Mark nodded.
“Yes.”
Silas swallowed.
“Thane, seriously, I don’t need—”
Thane lowered his hands.
“You want to.”
Silas stopped.
The room got softer.
He looked toward the keys despite himself.
“Yes.”
Thane hated how honest the answer was.
He hated that he loved it.
He stood.
“Fine.”
Gabriel shot upright.
Silas’s eyes widened.
“What?”
“Controlled drive,” Thane said. “Short route. No highway. No showing off. I’m in the passenger seat.”
Gabriel raised one paw.
“Commentary team in the back?”
“No.”
Mark said, “I should observe for safety.”
Gabriel pointed at Mark.
“Commentary team.”
Thane looked at him.
“No commentary.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Silent commentary.”
“No.”
“Internal commentary.”
“No.”
“Historically repressed commentary.”
Thane pointed at the hallway.
“Get whatever you need.”
Gabriel smiled.
“That’s what I thought.”
Silas still hadn’t moved.
“You mean it?”
Thane looked at him.
“Yes.”
Silas’s face lit.
Not a little.
Not politely.
It hit him all at once.
Eyes bright. Ears up. Tail moving. Shoulders lifting like joy had gotten under them.
“Oh.”
Gabriel whispered, “There it is.”
Silas caught himself and tried to flatten the expression.
Failed.
Thane reached for the keys.
Silas’s eyes followed them like a sacred object.
Thane held them out.
Silas stared.
Then looked at Thane.
Then the keys.
Then Thane again.
“Really?”
Thane gave him the keys before he could change his mind.
Silas took them with both paws.
Carefully.
Reverently.
Like they weighed less than they meant.
Gabriel leaned toward Mark.
“Subject has received artifact.”
Mark said, “Subject appears overwhelmed but stable.”
Thane pointed at both of them.
“I heard that.”
Gabriel smiled.
“Broadcast begins.”
Hale’s approval arrived after Mark texted the exact proposed route, time window, driver, passengers, vehicle, purpose, and destination.
Silas had insisted on destination.
Thane had suggested “around the block.”
Silas had looked at him with such betrayed disappointment that Gabriel called it “the saddest wolf traffic study ever conducted.”
So the destination became Cold Stone Creamery.
Hale’s reply came six minutes later.
Approved 1600-1800. Cabin to Cold Stone Creamery and return. No route deviations except safety/road closure. Silas driving. Thane supervising. No media engagement beyond polite refusal. No excessive public spectacle. Ice cream is not a probation category.
Gabriel read it aloud.
“Ice cream is not a probation category.”
Mark nodded.
“Correct.”
Gabriel looked at Silas.
“That means we’re free to define it as pack training.”
Silas smiled so wide Thane almost forgave everyone.
Almost.
At 16:03, they stood in the garage.
The Humvee waited in its usual space, broad and square and ridiculous, all matte authority and reinforced practicality.
Thane loved that vehicle.
Not in a normal way.
Not in a way he intended to admit.
Silas stood beside the driver’s door in full wolf form, wearing jeans modified for his tail and a dark shirt that made his charcoal fur look even darker around the shoulders. His gray markings caught the garage light.
He looked like a werewolf about to be handed a crown.
Thane stood with arms folded.
“Before you get in.”
Silas turned.
“Yes?”
“You understand the dimensions.”
“Yes.”
“This is wider than the Yukon.”
“Yes.”
“Longer response time on braking.”
“Yes.”
“More steering correction.”
“Yes.”
“Visibility is good but not magic.”
“Yes.”
“You do not accelerate just because Gabriel says something stupid.”
Gabriel, already climbing into the back, looked offended.
“Why am I pre-blamed?”
Mark climbed in behind him.
“Pattern evidence.”
Silas nodded seriously.
“I won’t accelerate because Gabriel says something stupid.”
Gabriel leaned forward between the seats.
“What if I say something inspiring?”
“No,” Thane and Mark said together.
Silas opened the driver’s door.
Then paused.
He looked at Thane.
“Thank you.”
Thane’s irritation dissolved badly.
“You’re welcome.”
Silas climbed in.
The Humvee shifted slightly under his weight, which did not concern the vehicle at all.
Thane walked around to the passenger side with the heavy steps of a wolf heading toward personal development under protest.
Gabriel’s voice came from the back.
“And here we see the established alpha approaching the passenger seat, a region he has historically regarded as theoretical.”
Thane opened the passenger door.
“Gabriel.”
Mark added, “His shoulders suggest elevated emotional resistance.”
Thane climbed in.
“I will turn this vehicle around before we leave the garage.”
Silas froze with one paw above the ignition.
Gabriel immediately said, “Not actually.”
Thane closed his eyes.
Silas looked at him.
Thane sighed.
“Not actually.”
Silas relaxed.
Mark said, “Important clarification.”
Gabriel whispered, “The driver requires emotional safety.”
Thane pointed backward without looking.
“I swear to God.”
Silas started the Humvee.
The engine rumbled to life.
His whole face changed.
Not dramatic.
Not tearful.
Pure awe.
“Oh.”
Thane knew that feeling.
The first time.
The engine through the frame.
The sense that the vehicle was less car than decision.
Silas put both paws on the steering wheel.
Gabriel leaned forward again.
“Driver appears bonded.”
Mark said, “Driver has not yet moved.”
“Bonding can be stationary.”
Thane looked at Silas.
“Brake.”
Silas pressed the brake.
“Shift to reverse.”
He did.
“Mirrors.”
Silas checked them.
“Rear camera.”
“Checked.”
“Garage clearance.”
“Checked.”
“Breathe.”
Silas blinked.
Then laughed softly.
“Checked.”
He backed out slowly.
Painfully slowly.
So slowly that Gabriel whispered, “Continental drift has entered the chat.”
Mark said, “Controlled movement is appropriate.”
Thane gripped the passenger handle.
Gabriel saw it.
Of course he saw it.
“The alpha has engaged the panic handle.”
“It is not a panic handle,” Thane said.
Mark leaned slightly.
“It is currently functioning as one.”
Silas laughed.
The Humvee rolled clear of the garage.
No damage.
No scraped mirrors.
No emotional casualties beyond Thane’s dignity.
Silas stopped in the driveway.
Thane looked at him.
“Good.”
Silas’s ears lifted.
“Good?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel lowered his voice into a sports-announcer rumble.
“A strong opening reverse from the rookie driver. Minimal panic from the passenger. Judges are surprised.”
Thane turned around.
Gabriel smiled at him.
Thane looked at Mark.
Mark said, “I am not responsible for his commentary.”
“You are sitting beside it.”
“I object to guilt by proximity.”
Silas laughed again.
Then eased the Humvee down the wooded drive.
The first mile was careful.
The second mile was smoother.
By the third, Silas had stopped holding the wheel like it was a court order and started driving like a person who understood machinery, space, weight, and consequence.
Thane noticed.
He also noticed every mailbox.
Every parked car.
Every curb.
Every tree.
Every squirrel with poor risk assessment.
Gabriel noticed Thane noticing.
“Passenger anxiety remains elevated but no longer critical.”
Thane stared forward.
“I can hear you.”
“That was for the audience.”
“There is no audience.”
Mark lifted one paw.
“Technically, there is.”
Thane looked back.
Mark lowered the paw.
Silas smiled without taking his eyes off the road.
“You’re doing great, Thane.”
Gabriel made a delighted sound.
Thane slowly turned his head.
Silas kept driving, expression innocent.
“Did you just reassure me?”
“Yes.”
“I’m supervising you.”
“I know.”
Gabriel slapped one paw silently against his own knee.
Mark looked out the window, shoulders shaking.
Thane faced forward again.
“I hate this outing.”
Silas’s smile widened.
“No, you don’t.”
Thane said nothing.
Because Silas was right.
That was also irritating.
At a four-way stop, Silas came to a complete stop, counted the other vehicles, waited his turn, and moved through perfectly.
Mark said, “Excellent intersection handling.”
Gabriel said, “The logistics wolf awards eight points.”
Mark looked at him.
“Out of what?”
“Unclear. Sports are emotional.”
Silas checked his mirrors and said, “Thank you, Mark.”
Thane gave him a sideways glance.
Silas’s ears flicked.
“What?”
“You thanked Mark and not me.”
“You haven’t complimented my intersection handling.”
Thane stared.
Gabriel whispered, “He’s learning power.”
Mark said, “Dangerously.”
Thane folded his arms, then realized folding his arms made him look less like a supervisor and more like a sulking passenger.
He unfolded them.
“Your intersection handling was acceptable.”
Silas grinned.
“Acceptable wolf driving.”
Gabriel pointed at him.
“Title drop.”
Mark said, “Wrong chapter.”
Gabriel looked offended.
“Continuity police.”
Silas turned onto the road leading toward the shopping center.
The Cold Stone sign came into view.
His posture changed again.
Excitement.
Not wild.
Not uncontrolled.
Just bright.
Thane saw it and, despite himself, smiled.
Silas pulled into the parking lot.
Slowly.
Carefully.
A little wide.
The Humvee fit into a space only because two spaces at the far end were open and Mark had chosen the parking strategy before they left.
Silas straightened the vehicle once.
Then again.
Then looked at Thane.
“Is that okay?”
Thane looked at the lines.
It was slightly crooked.
It was also perfectly safe and far from other cars.
“Good.”
Silas’s face lit again.
Gabriel opened the back door.
“Historic arrival. No bollards harmed.”
Mark climbed out.
“Parking could be improved by six inches.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“You’re going to make him re-park.”
Mark looked at Silas.
Silas looked at the lines.
Thane said, “No. It’s fine.”
Mark looked pained.
Gabriel leaned toward Silas.
“See? Driving the Humvee changes a man.”
Thane got out.
“I still have the keys on the return trip if any of you test me.”
Silas immediately held the keys close.
Gabriel whispered, “The rookie protects the artifact.”
Mark said, “Understandable.”
Cold Stone Creamery was not prepared for four werewolves.
To be fair, most businesses were not.
The line paused when they walked in.
Not stopped.
Just paused.
The way ordinary public life did now when the pack entered a room and people needed half a second to decide whether this was normal, wonderful, alarming, or a chance for a selfie.
The teenage employee behind the counter stared, realized she was staring, and said, “Welcome to Cold Stone,” with the determined professionalism of someone who would be telling this story for years.
Gabriel leaned on the counter carefully.
“Hello. We require heroic quantities of ice cream.”
Mark said, “Reasonable quantities.”
Gabriel looked back at him.
“You do not represent pack morale.”
Silas stood near Thane, still holding the Humvee keys.
Thane noticed.
“You can put those in your pocket.”
Silas looked down.
“Oh.”
He tucked them away like he was hiding treasure.
A little girl near the topping display whispered, “Mom, new wolf drove.”
Silas’s ears shot up.
Her mother smiled apologetically.
“Sorry. She saw you park.”
Silas looked mortified.
Gabriel immediately said, “He did park. With only minor geometric disagreement.”
Mark nodded.
“Safe but asymmetrical.”
The little girl looked at Silas.
“Was it scary?”
Silas glanced at Thane.
Thane lifted an eyebrow.
Silas smiled slowly.
“For him.”
The child laughed.
So did her mother.
Thane closed his eyes.
Gabriel leaned against the counter, delighted beyond measure.
Mark said, “Accurate.”
The employee asked for orders.
That became its own problem.
Gabriel wanted everything with brownie pieces and cookie dough.
Mark wanted sweet cream with strawberries and almonds, which Gabriel called “ice cream pretending to be a responsible adult.”
Thane ordered chocolate with peanut butter cups.
Silas stared at the board like it contained moral philosophy.
The employee waited kindly.
Silas read the options again.
Then again.
Gabriel leaned over.
“First Cold Stone?”
Silas nodded.
“First?”
Thane looked at him.
“Ever?”
Silas shrugged, suddenly self-conscious.
“I’ve had ice cream.”
Gabriel’s expression softened.
“Not the same.”
Mark said, “Choose base flavor first.”
Silas nodded.
“Chocolate.”
“Good. Mix-ins?”
Silas stared again.
“There are too many.”
Thane stepped beside him.
“What do you like?”
Silas looked at the toppings.
“Brownies. Peanut butter. Maybe caramel. Maybe Oreos. Maybe—” He stopped. “Is that too much?”
The teenage employee smiled.
“That’s kind of the point.”
Silas looked at her.
She looked right back.
Not afraid.
Amused.
Helpful.
Silas smiled.
“Then chocolate with brownies, peanut butter, caramel, and Oreos.”
Gabriel put one paw over his heart.
“He has chosen chaos.”
Mark said, “Sugar density will be significant.”
Thane smiled.
“He earned it.”
The employee mixed Silas’s ice cream on the cold slab with dramatic concentration. Silas watched the whole process like it was a magic trick.
When she handed him the cup, he took it carefully.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She hesitated. “Also, uh, you were good on the news.”
Silas froze.
Thane’s head turned.
Gabriel went still.
Mark’s attention sharpened.
The employee immediately blushed.
“I mean, what you said at the dock. About feeling better. That was… good.”
Silas looked down at the ice cream.
Then back up.
“Thank you.”
She nodded quickly and moved to the next order.
No speech.
No tears.
Just one more person saying something kind in public.
Silas stood beside Thane with chocolate ice cream and looked dazed.
Gabriel whispered, “Cold Stone has emotional toppings.”
Mark said, “Do not.”
They found tables outside because four wolves inside a small ice cream shop used up more space than the architect had intended.
The evening was warm. Families moved in and out of the shopping center. A couple of teenagers pretended not to film them and then stopped when Mark looked over. Three children came up with their father and asked politely for a picture.
Thane looked at Silas.
Silas looked surprised to be included in the decision.
Then nodded.
“Sure.”
The first selfie was with all four wolves, the children crowded in front, ice cream cups held like trophies.
Then the little girl from inside asked for one with “new wolf driving face.”
Silas blinked.
“I don’t have a driving face.”
Gabriel nearly fell off the bench.
Thane said, “You do.”
Silas stared at him.
“You’re betraying me?”
“Yes.”
Mark said, “Your driving face was focused and slightly reverent.”
The girl nodded seriously.
“Do that.”
Silas tried.
It came out somewhere between heroic concentration and terrified responsibility.
The girl loved it.
Her mother took the picture.
Then a boy asked if Thane had a passenger face.
Gabriel made a sound no one should make in public.
Thane said, “No.”
Silas slowly turned toward him.
“Oh, he does.”
Thane pointed at him.
“Careful.”
Silas held up both paws, ice cream in one.
“I’m just answering the public.”
Gabriel stood.
“I can demonstrate.”
“No,” Thane said.
Gabriel gripped an imaginary handle, widened his eyes, clenched his jaw, and stared forward like a werewolf facing death by turn signal.
The children screamed with laughter.
Mark turned away.
Silas laughed so hard he almost dropped his ice cream.
Thane looked at the sky.
“I should’ve driven.”
A woman nearby called, “For the record, he parked fine.”
Silas turned.
“Thank you.”
Mark murmured, “Asymmetrical but fine.”
The woman’s husband said, “That thing is a beast. I’d park it crooked too.”
Silas looked deeply relieved.
Thane gave the man a grateful nod.
Gabriel sat back down, triumphant.
Public interaction became easy after that.
Not loud.
Not invasive.
Just warm.
A few selfies.
A few handshakes.
One teenager asked Silas if the Humvee had power steering. Silas answered with great seriousness and then looked to Thane to confirm. Thane confirmed, because apparently they were now co-parenting automotive knowledge.
A little boy asked if all four wolves lived together.
Silas went still.
Thane waited.
Gabriel waited.
Mark waited.
Silas answered.
“Yes.”
The boy nodded.
“Cool.”
Then he ran back to his family.
Silas stared after him.
Gabriel leaned close.
“Public has ruled: cool.”
Silas smiled into his ice cream.
“Cool.”
The return trip began with Thane making a final attempt at dignity.
“I’ll drive back.”
Silas looked at him.
Gabriel looked at him.
Mark looked at him.
A child ten feet away looked at him, somehow disappointed.
Thane sighed.
“Fine.”
Silas’s face lit.
He climbed back into the driver’s seat with less awe this time and more confidence.
That was somehow worse for Thane.
Confidence meant speed might eventually happen.
It did not.
Silas drove exactly the speed limit.
He signaled early.
He checked mirrors.
He took corners wide but controlled.
He treated the Humvee with respect so obvious that Thane’s anxiety had nothing to grab except habit.
Gabriel, naturally, grabbed it for him.
“Passenger appears calmer on return leg.”
Thane stared forward.
“Passenger is ignoring commentary.”
Mark said, “Passenger’s right paw has not touched the handle in three minutes.”
Gabriel gasped.
“Growth.”
Silas smiled.
“Good job, Thane.”
Thane turned his head slowly.
Silas kept his eyes on the road.
“You’re doing great.”
Gabriel lost it.
Mark laughed once, which made Gabriel lose it harder.
Thane tried to look offended.
He failed.
“Keep driving.”
“Yes, supervisor.”
“Do not call me that in my own Humvee.”
“Our Humvee?”
The vehicle went silent.
Silas’s ears lowered immediately.
“Sorry.”
Thane looked at him.
Then forward.
Then sighed.
“Our Humvee.”
Gabriel stopped laughing.
Mark looked out the window.
Silas’s paws tightened on the wheel.
“Really?”
Thane’s voice was gruff.
“Yes.”
Silas drove for almost thirty seconds without answering.
Then said, quietly, “I like that.”
Thane nodded.
“I know.”
Gabriel whispered, “Beautiful automotive family growth.”
Thane pointed backward.
“One more word and you walk.”
Gabriel whispered, “Walking is healthy.”
Mark said, “Not from here.”
The cabin came into view through the trees just before sunset.
Silas slowed on the drive like he did not want the trip to end.
Thane noticed.
“Park in the garage.”
Silas blinked.
“In the garage?”
“Yes.”
“That’s tighter.”
“Yes.”
“I can park outside.”
“You can park in the garage.”
Silas looked at him.
The trust hit harder than the keys had.
He nodded.
“Okay.”
The garage door opened.
Silas lined up carefully.
Slower than before.
Focused.
Reverent again.
Gabriel did not comment.
Mark did not either.
Thane stayed quiet.
Silas pulled in, centered the Humvee, stopped, shifted into park, and turned off the engine.
The garage settled around them.
No damage.
No scrape.
No disaster.
Silas sat with both paws on the wheel.
Then he leaned forward and rested his forehead against it.
Thane’s chest tightened.
“You okay?”
Silas nodded without lifting his head.
“Yes.”
“You did good.”
Silas laughed softly.
“Good?”
“Yes.”
He lifted his head.
His eyes were wet, but not badly.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
Thane looked at him.
“I do trust you.”
Silas swallowed.
“I know. I’m still catching up.”
Gabriel opened the back door.
“Take your time. We’ll schedule additional supervised dessert driving.”
Mark climbed out.
“Dessert driving is not a category.”
Gabriel smiled.
“It is now.”
Silas removed the keys from the ignition and held them out to Thane.
Thane looked at them.
Then at Silas.
“Hang them up.”
Silas stared.
“Me?”
“You drove it. You park it. You hang up the keys.”
Silas’s face softened.
He nodded.
The four of them walked inside through the garage entry and into the great room. Silas went straight to the hook by the front door.
Thane’s Humvee keys.
Their Humvee keys.
He hung them on the hook.
Carefully.
Beside his own.
Gabriel stood beside him.
“Driver has returned artifact.”
Mark said, “Artifact undamaged.”
Thane said, “Driver acceptable.”
Silas turned.
His eyes narrowed.
“Acceptable?”
Gabriel’s grin spread.
“Acceptable wolf driver.”
Silas pointed at him.
“No.”
Mark nodded.
“Yes.”
Thane folded his arms.
“Definitely.”
Silas looked at all three of them.
“I hate this pack.”
Gabriel smiled.
“No, you don’t.”
Silas looked at the keys.
Then the great room.
Then the wolves around him.
His pack.
His den.
His ice cream still sitting cold and sweet in his stomach.
The evening outside.
The Humvee safe in the garage.
The keys on the hook.
“No,” he said.
He smiled.
“No, I really don’t.”
They spent the rest of the evening in the great room, arguing over whether Cold Stone counted as dinner.
Gabriel said yes because dairy, sugar, and mix-ins covered three emotional food groups.
Mark said no because none of those were food groups.
Thane said it counted enough that no one had to cook.
Silas said he was still full, then ate half a sandwich anyway when Mark set one beside him without comment.
The movie argument started at 20:10.
Silas voted for The Matrix again because he wanted to understand the remaining thirty percent.
Gabriel nominated Cars, claiming it was thematically appropriate.
Thane said no so fast everyone looked at him.
Mark looked up the runtime of both and declared that The Matrix was more reasonable because Gabriel would not be permitted to make Humvee comparisons for ninety minutes.
Gabriel looked wounded.
Silas laughed.
They watched The Matrix.
Gabriel made only four vehicle jokes.
Mark counted.
Thane leaned back on the sofa, Silas on the floor beside him, Gabriel sprawled at the other end, Mark in the big chair.
Four wolves in the den.
Keys by the door.
Humvee in the garage.
Ice cream conquered.
Public survived.
Passenger growth achieved under protest.
Silas reached up without looking, and Thane put his paw on his shoulder.
“You really were fine,” Thane said quietly.
Silas smiled at the screen.
“You really did use the panic handle.”
“It’s not a panic handle.”
Silas’s smile widened.
“Okay.”
Gabriel whispered from the other end of the couch, “It’s a panic handle.”
Thane threw a pillow.
Gabriel caught it.
Mark said, “Object crime.”
Silas laughed so hard he missed an entire scene.
He didn’t care.
He lived here.
He had driven the Humvee.
He had gotten ice cream with pack.
And for one funny, easy Sunday evening, that was more than enough.