"Still counts." The wolf slid coins across the polished wood. "You and Maeve saved our asses. Least I can do is buy you a drink you won't actually drink."
Dante accepted with a nod, tucking the coins into the register. The gratitude still caught him off guard sometimes. He'd fought for Hollow Oak because it was right, because Maeve needed him, because this town had become home in ways that transcended logic.
But watching the community embrace him as one of their own? That hit differently.
"You're staring again." Maeve appeared at his elbow, her short black hair gleaming in lamplight, her dark gold eyes dancing with amusement. She wore fitted black jeans and a deep red sweater that hugged curves he'd mapped thoroughly over the past week. "People are going to talk."
"Let them." He caught her around the waist, pulling her close despite the crowded bar. "I'm allowed to appreciate my mate."
"Appreciate quietly." But she leaned into him, her hand settling over his heart in that way she had. "We've got three hours until midnight. Try to behave until then."
"No promises." He nipped her ear, grinning when she shivered. "You look too good tonight."
"Flatterer." She pushed away with obvious reluctance. "Back to work. Twyla's giving us the eye."
Sure enough, the fae woman watched from across the room with that knowing smile that meant she'd heard every word despite the noise. Dante raised his glass in mock salute. She laughed and turned back to her customers.
The evening rolled on in waves of laughter and music. Someone had brought a fiddle. Another produced a guitar. By ten o'clock, half the tavern was dancing while the other half cheered them on. Dante worked the bar alongside Maeve, theirmovements synchronized after days of practice, passing bottles and glasses without needing to speak.
His lion purred contentedly. This was right. This was home.
At eleven, he caught Kieran's eye and nodded toward the back room. The tiger shifter understood immediately, following him through the kitchen to the small office where Dante had been hiding his project.
"It's finished?" Kieran asked, closing the door behind them.
"This morning." Dante pulled the small wooden box from his desk drawer, opening it to reveal the pendant inside.
Two lions carved from dark oak, their bodies intertwined in an eternal circle, no beginning and no end. He'd spent the past nine days working on it between patrols and bar shifts, his hands remembering skills his father had taught him decades ago. The detail was intricate: individual whiskers, the texture of manes, the curve of tails wrapped together.
"Damn." Kieran picked it up carefully, studying it in the lamplight. "This is incredible work."
"Think she'll like it?" Dante heard the uncertainty in his own voice and hated it. He'd faced down rogues without flinching, but the thought of Maeve rejecting this had him more twisted.
"She'll love it." Kieran handed it back with a grin. "And if she says no, I'll eat my own tail."
"Reassuring." Dante tucked the pendant into his pocket, feeling its weight against his thigh. "How'd you do it? With Freya?"
"Badly." Kieran laughed. "Stammered like an idiot and nearly dropped the ring twice. But she said yes anyway, so apparently sincerity beats grace."
"Good to know." Dante clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Thanks for the pep talk."
"That's what pride brothers do." Kieran's expression turned serious. "You're family now, Dante. All of us. Don't forget that."
"I won't."
They returned to the main room where the countdown had begun organizing. Twyla distributed champagne glasses while Cora and Callum hung the final decorations. Someone had strung mistletoe above the bar entrance, the white berries gleaming like tiny moons.
Perfect.
Dante found Maeve near the fireplace, laughing at somethingMoira said while Freya showed off her daughter's latest drawing. She looked radiant in the firelight, her face flushed from heat and happiness, completely at ease in her element.
His lioness. His mate. His future.
He crossed to her, ignoring the knowing looks from their friends. "Can I steal you for a minute?"
"Depends." She tilted her head, playful. "Are you stealing me for appropriate reasons or inappropriate reasons?"
"Appropriate." He laced his fingers with hers. "Mostly."
