She laughs—wet, shaky, real. Then she leans forward and kisses me, soft and sweet and sure.
“Okay,” she says against my lips. “Tomorrow we face your parents. Tonight we rest.” A pause. “Unless you’re up for not resting?”
“Polly, I can barely lift my arms.”
“I’m hearing that as a challenge.”
“That’s because you’re a menace.”
“And yet.” She grins, mischief sparking through the bond. “You chose me anyway.”
“I did.” I pull her closer, ignoring my body’s protests. “I really did.”
She curls against my side, her head on my shoulder, and I feel the moment her breathing starts to slow. Exhaustion catching up with both of us.
“The wedding,” she murmurs, half-asleep. “Mother said sooner rather than later.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to make it so scandalous your mother’s head explodes.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Mmm.” Her hand curls against my chest. “Love you, Lord Chaos.”
The words hit me like a plasma bolt. Simple. Certain. Said like it’s the most obvious thing in the universe.
I press a kiss to her hair and let myself breathe.
“Love you too,” I whisper. “Always.”
Through the bond: warmth. Safety. Home.
We sleep.
18
Future Chaos
Polly
I’mgoingtomurdereveryone I love.
Starting with Suki, who’s been yanking on my hair for the past twenty minutes while muttering increasingly creative Zaterran curses under her breath.
“Holdstill, you menace.” She jabs another pin into the elaborate updo she’s attempting. “I swear to the stars, Polly, if you fidget one more time—”
“Ithurts.”
“Beauty is pain.”
“Beauty istorture. There’s a difference.”
Mother’s voice cuts across the borrowed quarters like a plasma blade. “West, if you’re not ready in fifteen minutes, I’m walking you down that aisle in your underwear.”
“You wouldn’t.”
The look she gives me suggests she absolutely would.
