“Yeah, but you weren’t the one who had to hear him practice it over and over again,” her father groaned. “In the kitchen, in the den, in the drive over?—”
“Robby,” Mom warned.
“Alright, alright.” He waved a hand at them. “Maybe on your wedding anniversary.”
The mention of weddings made heat creep up Zara’s cheek. She stole a glance at Hektor, but found him staring down at her.
His intentions rang out clear as a bell.
“Mr. Jones!” The unknown man came forward and took Hektor’s hand, shaking it vigorously. “I hope everything went well?”
Hektor placed an arm around her shoulders. “Yes, thank you Principal Myers.”
The principal’s head bobbed up and down excitedly. “I trust you were satisfied with the school’s PA system and our band?” He gestured to the students. “They placed second last year at the state championships.”
“Then why are you cutting their funding?” Zara bit out.
The arm around her tightened. “It’s okay, Zara.”
“No, it’s not.” She huffed. “The arts, all of the arts, are important. Children need to be able to express themselves.”
“So true,” Principal Myers agreed. “And thanks to Mr. Jones’s generous endowment, we will be able to run the program indefinitely.”
“Endowment?” Zara echoed. “Is this true?”
“It is, honey,” her mother piped in. “When I told him about the arts department shutting down, he insisted on donating his wealth to ensure it would continue.”
“Hektor, your hoard…”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
“It doesn’t? But?—”
“A Drakkon holds his mate and her happiness above all else.” He took her hands in his and kissed them. “Zara, from now on, you are the most important person in my life. I hold you above all else, above my own family, my duties, and even my hoard. I would spend my very last gold coin if it meant putting a smile on your face.”
Oh, and he meant it. His love, genuine and true, shone out like a beacon, spreading out and surrounding her. “Hektor…”
She drew him down for another kiss, a brief one this time since they were surrounded by other people, but it was by no means less passionate. “I love you, Hektor.”
His chest rumbled as his arms wound around her waist to bring her flush to him. “I was wondering if you'd ever say it again.”
She giggled. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I’ll say it whenever you want me to.”
His grip around her tightened. “No, say it only when you want to.”
“Well, I want to say it all the time, forever, until we’re old and gray and beyond.”
“Good. Will you be my mate, Zara?”
Her eyes widened. “Are you proposing?”
“In a way, yes.” He paused. “I have read about customs in the Upperworld, about what human mating is like. If you would like the ring, the ceremony, and all the legalities, I’m happy to do it.”
The thought of being married to Hektor filled her with joy. “I would love it. And I’m sure my family would be thrilled.”
“I sense you are hesitating.”
“Yes—I mean no, not about the mate part,” she assured him. “Upperworld weddings are big affairs.” Even if she wanted to keep it small, her parents would likely insist on at least two ceremonies—one in Santa Fe for her mom’s side and one inBolivia for her Papá’s relatives. “And we just started the job and all…”
