Cal
The words were like a balm to his soul that he hadn’t thought he needed.
For one, he’d thought he was to blame, he’d deserved being without his mate for all eternity for hurting him. His mate deserved better, after all.
To hear Derek say he didn’t think Cal was to blame made the last remnants of that pain vanish. It had been lessening ever since he’d shifted back, but on some level he hadn’t believed Derek would truly forgive him.
“You forgive me?” he asked, his voice sounding smaller than it had any right to be.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Cal.Nothing.You don’t apologize for accidents.”
He could feel Derek leaning back, and then a strong, long-fingered hand forced him to look at Derek.
“Am I less of a mate because I only have one eye?” Derek asked, making Cal jerk back in surprise.
“W-what? No! Of course not!”
“Then what does it matter? I can deal with living with just one eye, Cal.”
“I should’ve not—” His words were cut out with a growl and a hard kiss that froze him to that spot.
Ever so slowly, Cal opened his mouth and then they were kissing. Cal let out a wounded sound and sank into the kiss, letting Derek dominate it, letting him put all his emotion into the act.
“I love you, Cal. You’re it for me, do you understand?” Derek looked into his eyes, still holding onto him so he couldn’t turn away. “The worst thing about losing my eye was losing you with it. I can live without one eye, but I can’t be happy without my mate.”
Cal nodded at the passionate speech. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Derek grinned. “That’s it?”
Cal chuckled a bit wetly, tears streaming down his face. “It hasn’t been fun for me, either.”
Derek kissed him again, laughing into Cal’s mouth when they separated.
Once they’d cleaned up from the crying and were more presentable again, they went outside. Everyone was either working on the painting, entertaining children, or getting ready to cook.
“Hey Derek, do you want to come see how I think this grill works?” Dallas called from the said grill.
Laughing, Derek pecked Cal’s lips and headed toward Dallas.
Kit appeared at Cal’s elbow and peered at him. “Dad, everything okay?”
Cal leaned down and hugged the life out of his son. “Yes. Better than ever.”
Kit let out a giggle. “Okay, you can put me down now.”
“Never!” Cal growled and blew a raspberry on Kit’s neck like he had when Kit was a child.
The squealing alerted the children and soon there was a line of them, all waiting to be grabbed, swung around, tickled and blown raspberries.
Even the human kids got brave when they saw the pups—who they didn’t know were different in any way—do it.
Rider came closer, laughing at their antics and Cal’s mock annoyance. Cal glanced at him with little Jamie in his arms and raised a brow. When Rider nodded, Cal tossed the little boy to his alpha and soon there was a chorus of what Cal assumed was Finnish for Me, me, me, me! ringing from the choir.
They painted the house with muted, yet still bright yellow, then gorged on a truckful of grilled things, both meat and veggies.
“I forgot you were an ace with a grill,” Cal murmured at Derek, who seemed pleased.
“You remember,” he replied.
