We stay like that for a long moment, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. I feel his pulse slow, seeking mine, until we’re beating together.
“Okay,” I say when I can finally speak again. “Now I really need breakfast.”
He laughs and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“Coming right up.”
He makesme pancakes.
They’re a little lopsided and one of them is slightly burned, but I eat every bite while he watches me from across the table with a satisfied look on his face. The look of a man who just had his mate on the kitchen counter and is very pleased with himself.
I can’t even be annoyed about it. I’m too well-fed in every sense of the word.
“So,” I say, pushing my empty plate away. “We need to talk.”
“About?”
“About what happens next. The storm is over. I have an apartment in town with all my stuff in it. A job I need to quit. A life I need to figure out what to do with.”
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Your life is here now. With me.”
“I know that.” I squeeze his fingers. “But I can’t just disappear. I have to go back, at least for a little while. Get my things. Talk to Derrick.”
He goes rigid at Derrick’s name again, but he doesn’t say anything. Progress.
“And there’s something else I want to talk about,” I continue.
“What?”
I take a breath. This is the hard part. The part I’ve been thinking about since I woke up and saw the clear sky outside.
“Your clan.”
He goes still. His emotions crash over me in waves: anxiety, longing, and pain worn smooth by time.
“What about them?”
“I want to meet them. Properly.” I hold his gaze. “Your mother. Your brother. The rest of your family.”
“Imani...”
“You’ve been exiled for years, Tolin. By your own choice. And I understand why. The challenge, the scar, your pride.” I hold his hand tight. “But I don’t want that for our future. I don’t want to be cut off from your family, hidden away on this mountain like some secret.”
“You’re not a secret.”
“Then prove it.” I lean forward. “Take me to meet them. Show them you found your mate. Let them be part of our lives.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. I feel the struggle in him—fear wrestling hope, both fighting for dominance.
“I don’t know if they’ll accept me back,” he finally says.
“Your mother sends you food every week. Your brother fixed my car. They already want you back, Tolin. You’re the one who’s been keeping yourself away.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple.” I stand up and move around the table, settling myself in his lap. His arms come around me automatically, holding me close. “I grew up with nothing. No family. No roots. No place to belong. I moved from foster home to foster home, never staying anywhere long enough to call it mine.”
His arms tighten around me.
