He didn’t see her first—he smelled her.

Warm. Sweet. Familiar in a way that hit straight to the chest. His wolf surged up so fast it made his ears snap forward under his hood.

He stopped dead in the terminal.

Soap nearly ran into him. “LT? What’s—”

Simon walked away without answering, pulse kicking hard. His tail gave an embarrassing twitch he couldn’t stop. Months of restraint cracked wide open as her scent strengthened with every step.

Then—

“Simon!”

His heart slammed.

She burst through the crowd at full speed—ears high, tail wagging so fast it blurred, eyes bright with pure joy. She barely slowed before she collided with him, arms wrapping tight around his middle.

He caught her instantly.

Arms around her waist. Hands spreading over her back. Chest vibrating with a deep, instinctive rumble he never made for anyone else.

She was small against him, soft and trembling with excitement. Her scent poured over him like warmth after months of cold.

“Simon—you’re home—you’re really home—”

Her words tumbled out in a messy rush, and he buried his face in her hair to steady himself. His wolf leaned into her instinctively, nose brushing through her hair, scenting her in slow sweeps. God, he’d missed her.

She made a tiny whine—quiet, happy, helpless—and his tail wagged once before he could stop it.

“Easy, pup,” he murmured, voice rough but soft in a way it never was around anyone else. “M’here.”

She squeezed him tighter, standing on her toes, cheek pressed against his throat like she was trying to get as close as possible. Her tail kept bumping his leg in quick, excited bursts.

He couldn’t help it—he nuzzled her back. Slow, affectionate, unmistakably wolf. His mask brushed her ear, and she shivered, letting out another tiny sound that made something hot curl in his gut.

Behind them, the 141 had gone silent. Simon didn’t care.

Her fingers curled into his hoodie, holding on like she thought he might disappear. He lifted a hand to the back of her head, rubbing gently behind her ear. Her breath hitched and she tilted into his touch immediately.

“Good girl,” he breathed without thinking, too quiet for anyone but her. “Knew you’d be waiting.”

Her scent flared—sweet and flustered—and she hid her face in his chest. He felt himself soften instantly.

He lowered his head and bumped his forehead lightly against hers, nose drifting along her cheek in a slow nuzzle. She rose onto her toes to meet him halfway, her own nose brushing his jaw in tiny, excited touches.

“Missed you,” she whispered, voice trembling.

“Missed you more,” he whispered back, and the truth of it burned.

He hadn’t realized how tightly he’d been wound until now. Until she was pressed against him, warm and alive, grounding every instinct screaming for comfort and closeness and home.

Her tail thumped against him again. He let out a low, pleased rumble and curled an arm around her, pulling her closer until she fit perfectly under his chin.

Soap’s voice drifted faintly behind them. “Is… is Ghost cuddling someone?”

Gaz huffed in disbelief, “No way. Absolutely not.”

“Leave him.” Price warned them.

Simon blocked them all out. She was all that mattered. Her heartbeat against his ribs mattered. Her scent settling into his clothes mattered.

He angled his body between her and the busy terminal automatically, shielding her from the crowd. She clung a little tighter, overwhelmed and happy, and he dipped down to nuzzle her cheek again.

“Let’s get you home, baby,” he murmured.

Her breath trembled with relief.

And Simon—big, cold, dangerous Simon—felt his chest finally loosen as he held his little gray wolf close, tail giving one last small, contented wag.