Violet huffed out a laugh and pecked his cheek. “Lead the way, prince.”
* * *
Violet trailed after Roman, having long let go of his hand to stop and look at the flowers around the porch. Porch was too small a word. Her entire cottage could fit on the “porch.”
Once she’d thoroughly inspected the foliage, she bounded up the stairs to where Roman waited for her by the huge double doors. Detailed carvings swirled across the wood, stopping her up short with a gasp. “Violets,” she breathed.
Roman tapped his forearm peeking out from his rolled-up sleeves. “Drawn by the same artist who did these.”
A dark feeling of inadequacy almost overwhelmed her. All these years, he’d never lost hope in them like she had. While she’d traveled the world to chase her dreams and run from fear, he’d stayed behind, building a life for her, not them. Everything he’d done had been for her comfort, but what had he done for himself?
A calloused hand slid around the nape of her neck and into her hair, grabbing a handful to tilt her head back. “Are you hurt?”
Roman’s gaze, so earnest and full of concern, almost turned her into a watering pot. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she moved away from him and gestured around. “You did all of this,” she motioned to his tattoos, “and this, and gods knows what else. You stalked me, you watched me sleep, which in retrospect is really fucking weird, but it’s also sweet, and what have I done?” She held her hands up with a shrug and dropped them helplessly. “I’ve done nothing but stand here and cry on the beautiful porch of the beautiful house you had built for me.”
Silence stretched between them like a gaping canyon, separating them. Pointing out their one-sided relationship wasn’t her best idea. What if she lost him? “I’ll do better,” she swore. “I’ll play strategy games with you every day.”
“You cheat,” he reminded her pointedly.
Sniffling, she flicked her hand dismissively. “I don’t cheat. I’ll read those boring books you like so we can talk about them, and I’ll—”
“Stop.”
Violet snapped her mouth shut, her lip trembling as Roman took measured steps toward her. “You really don’t know, do you?”
She swiped her nose with her sleeve and steadied her voice. “Know what?”
Roman huffed out a quiet laugh, and once he stood toe to toe with her, he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Do you remember the first time we met? You ran into me in the hallway.”
“You ran into me,” she replied with a sniffle.
His lips split into a beautiful smile. “That morning when I woke, I’d hated my life.” Violet sucked in a sharp breath. “I love my parents, and they meant well, but they kept me on a tight leash. Too tight. I didn’t have any friends or much contact with anyone my own age.”
“Roman,” Violet whispered, her heart breaking into a million pieces for the young prince forced to wear the heavy crown.
He idly traced the outline of her face as he continued to speak. “When I started training with the junior warriors, I didn’t know how to speak to the other kids. That didn’t stop them from wanting to be around me, but it stopped me from wanting to be around them.” His fingers trailed down to her neck and tenderly stroked her pounding pulse. “And then I met you. You made me feel like I was normal.” Roman dropped his head forward and laughed. “You threatened to kill me within the first day.”
A laugh bubbled out of her upon remembering their back and forth. “That was thirteen years ago.”
“You got me a birthday gift,” he went on, ignoring her protests. “A beaded bracelet in human-grass green that sits in a box in my room because I wore it until it nearly fell to pieces. No one other than my family has ever gotten me a gift other than you.
“I don’t know who I’d be had I not met you. I was a shell of a boy who didn’t know how to laugh, then you came along and forced me to. Hell, you made me sneak out in the middle of the night to smuggle half-dead chickens into our classroom.”
“The chickens were fine,” she laughed through her tears, playfully swatting his arm.
He released her and stepped back. “I have loved you since the day I watched you crawl around in chicken shit, Violet Maekin, and now that I have you, I’m never letting you go.”
“I’m sorry I gave up on us,” she whispered. “I loved you so much and didn’t think I could compete with a mate bond, but that’s no excuse.”
“Don’t,” he replied, his voice sharp. “Don’t blame yourself for being the rational one out of the two of us. Someone has to balance me out.”
Violet burst out laughing, thinking he was kidding, but the deadpan expression on his face told her he wasn’t. She laughed harder and walked into his embrace. “I love you, Roman, and I swear I’ll do a better job showing you.”
31
Roman watched as Violet looked around the inside of their new home, relishing in the way her eyes lit up with excitement. He’d paid the crew to work around the clock to finish everything before his mate returned, and he’d been as involved in the process as he could.
Walking through the front entrance, the foyer had white marble floors to complement the light stone walls. He’d had as many sconces, chandeliers, and lamps installed throughout the house as he could, wanting everything to be open and light, just like her.
