Nothing matters except the man kneeling in front of me, his heart in his eyes, offering me everything I never thought I'd have.
"Yes," I whisper.
His face transforms. The hope, the relief, the pure joy—it breaks across his features like sunrise.
"Yes?" he repeats.
"Yes." I'm laughing now, tears streaming down my face. "Yes, you idiot, yes. A thousand times yes."
He surges to his feet, pulling me off the tailgate and into his arms.
The ring slides onto my finger—a perfect fit—and then he's kissing me, deep and desperate, while the crowd around us erupts into cheers.
"I love you," he says against my lips.
"I love you too."
"You're mine."
"And you're mine." I pull back, cupping his face in my hands. "What I want, I keep. Remember?"
He laughs—a real laugh, full and free, the kind I've only heard a handful of times—and pulls me back in for another kiss.
Around us, the party explodes into celebration.
Someone cranks the music.
Bottles are raised in toast.
Tawny is screaming something unintelligible, and Behemoth's laugh booms across the parking lot, but I barely notice any of it.
All I see is him.
All I feel is this—the solid weight of his arms around me, the cool press of the ring on my finger, the absolute certainty that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.
Home. Family. Love.
Everything I thought Cain had destroyed, rebuilt from the ashes.
Everything I never thought I'd have, now mine to keep.
Later—much later—we escape to our room.
The party is still going strong downstairs, but neither of us cares.
We tumbled through the door in a tangle of limbs and laughter, and now we're lying in bed, my head on his chest, his hand tracing lazy patterns on my back.
"So," he says. "Engaged."
"Engaged." I hold up my hand, admiring the way the ring catches the moonlight. "I can't believe you proposed at a club party."
"Would you have preferred a fancy restaurant? Candlelight and violin music?"
"God, no." I laugh, pressing a kiss to his chest. "This was perfect. Our people, our home, our life. I wouldn't have wanted it any other way."
"Good." His arms tighten around me. "Because I don't do fancy restaurants."
"I know. That's one of the things I love about you."
