He kissed me then, and it felt both as if I was drowning and finally breathing again.
“I KNEW IT!” Jade screamed. “I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!”
“You absolutely did not,” Sloane said.
“SHUT UP, LET ME HAVE THIS...”
***
My friends eventually left.
It took another hour of chaos, including Thessa calling Jade to confirm that yes, she was in fact a werewolf princess, she was sorry she didn’t mention it sooner, and would Jade like to come over for dinner so they could discuss this properly?
But finally, finally, the apartment was quiet again.
I slumped against the closed door, looking at Caelan.
“You really just proposed to me,” I said. “In front of my friends and without a ring.”
“I’ll get you a ring.” He moved toward me, that predatory grace in every step. “I’ll get you a hundred rings. A thousand. Whatever you want.”
“I was thinking, like,one.”
“Done.” He caged me against the door, hands on either side of my head. “What else do you want? A ceremony? I’ll give you the grandest wedding any realm has ever seen. A castle? You can have Duskmere. The entire kingdom. It’s yours.”
“I don’t need a kingdom...”
“Too bad. You have one.” He leaned down, nose brushing mine. “You have me. And everything that comes with me.”
I reached up, touched his face. Still marveling that this was real. That any of this was actually happening.
“Breakfast,” I said. “I want breakfast.”
He laughed, surprised, delighted. “Breakfast. I can do that.”
“No.” I ducked under his arm, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll do it. You stay away from my stove.”
“My cooking isn’t that bad.”
“Your soup almost killed me.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I tasted salt for three days, Caelan. Three. Days.”
He followed me into the kitchen anyway, leaning against the counter while I pulled out ingredients for pancakes. I could feel his eyes on me, possessive, and through the bond, his emotions were a steady pulse of happiness that matched my own.
“I’ll take cooking lessons,” he offered. “Human ones. So I can provide for my mate properly.”
“Your mate can provide for herself, thanks.”
“My mate is stubborn.”
“Your mate is practical.”
He caught me around the waist as I moved past him, pulling me back against his chest. His lips found the claiming mark on my shoulder, and I shivered.
“My mate is perfect,” he murmured. “And I’m going to spend every day proving I deserve her.”
