He gently pulled the ring out of the box, holding it up toward me. “Marr-y me, Ar-r—” he said aloud and swallowed, his eyes shining. He took another breath, and I gave him that space, so fucking in love with this man. “Arden?” he finally managed, his dark eyes such a beautiful mirror beneath the sunlight.
My knees gave out. I dropped down in front of him, hands flying to his face as I nodded hard. “Yes,” I breathed, blinking away happy tears. “Yes. Baby, yes.”
He slipped the beautiful ring onto my finger, both of us beaming and crying, before he surged up, arms wrapping around me, lifting me off the ground. I laughed, hugging him tighter. The backyard erupted with shouts and applause, Rafe gently settling me back in the grass and pressing his forehead to mine.
Healing,he signed.Together.
I kissed him, his hands pressing firmly into my waist, the two of us only breaking apart when several children, including Henry, started shouting, “Ew!”
I laughed, covering my mouth and blushing. Rafe and I just stood there, staring like lovesick fools, my cheeks hurting from how hard I was smiling. It was perfect. The entire moment. I never thought I'd say that about anything in my life, but every soft moment I got to hold close to my heart, just like this one, was perfect too. I loved him, he loved me, and while the last two years had been a lot of stumbling through society's supposed normal, it was ours. We were making a home together, and as I kissed his cheek, going back to helping with gifts and balloons, I thought this was the bestfuck youI could ever offer to a world that had deemed me nothing more than a Doll.
I settled next to Heath on one of the large roots that lifted out of the ground by the willow tree. It was the reason Rafe and I bought the house; it had a nest of ravens. I often caught him sitting under it, back pressed to the trunk, sketching in a notebook. I hadn't even known Rafe liked to draw, and I made sure to get him proper materials. He cried when I gave him a set of watercolors a few months back. I kept being amazed—how full my heart could feel after everything.
"You two have made something really beautiful, Arden," Heath said. She was in a summer dress too, her ginger hair braided back. While I didn't see the Ravens as often as I wanted, I was glad she, Matthias, and Mickey could make the party. I'd worked hard to earn their trust back after Alexander, Heathhaving been the most distant until recently. I knew she was still mourning Monty and Grace.
"How's Florence?" I asked.
Heath frowned. "You know, I don't really know anymore. I begged her to come today, but she's almost never home, off doing who the hell knows what. We're sure it has something to do with S.I.N. with the amount of bloodied laundry that shows up. At this point, all we can hope is that it isn't her blood. Losing someone breaks everyone in different ways. It just hurts to see Alex's sister breaking in a reckless way. He was so internal, and I used to hate that, wishing he'd…I don't know. Scream or something? Now with Florence, I almost wish she shared more of his practicality. Then maybe we could sit down with her, help her. I don't know how to show her anymore than we already have that the Ravens are at her disposal. If she has a vendetta, then I wish she'd just use us." She sighed. "She's a headache, and she reminds me a lot of you."
I folded my fingers between hers, and she squeezed my hand with a small smile. "She'll find her way. I did. Eventually." Then I studied her profile. "And what about you?"
She grimaced. "Waiting."
I looked down at the grass, worry pulling at my brows. I knew she meant the strange pause that the war between the Ravens and S.I.N. seemed to be stuck in. I was concerned over the syndicate's silence too, but—"You have to let yourself live, Heath. If war is coming, then it will come. There's nothing we can do to stop that."
"I know." She sighed and scrubbed a finger at the side of her nose in irritation. "I'm not getting any younger either."
I rolled my eyes. "We're thirty-one, not ancient. You have time."
"Monty didn't."
We both fell silent, squeezing each others' hands tighter.
"I…miss her, every day," Heath said, her voice cracking. "She was such a bitch, but she wasmybitch," she continued through a choked laugh. I couldn't help but laugh too, leaning my head into hers.
"Are you two crying? Not possible aftertheMickey Delgado fed you," Mickey said, walking up to us. He was untying his apron, ducking out of it and tossing it at Heath with a grin.
She swatted it away, sniffing. "Itwasa really good burger," she said heavily.
I wiped tears from my eyes and smiled up at Mickey, who returned it with ease. "Guy can cook."
"Damn right. The cake wasn't bad either, bella. Well done." Mickey dropped down between us, shifting his ass side to side to forcibly push us apart and end our pity party, both Heath and I shoving at him with laughter.
Matthias walked over with his hands in his pockets, his glower shifting between the three of us. "What's so funny?" he asked.
"Don't mind him. He doesn't know how to smile," Mickey said.
Matthias narrowed his eyes on his brother. "You want a beating, baby bro?"
Mickey scoffed. "As if you could win."
"Name the time and place and see red, motherfucker."
"Cazzo! Don't say such things in front of the darlings!" Heath and I both scrunched our noses in annoyance, thinking he meant us, but then Mickey lifted an arm and popped his bicep, kissing it. "He didn't mean it," he whispered to his muscles, and we burst into another laughing fit.
"I don't know how we're related," Matthias said, but his lips had ticked subtly upward.
I was still giggling, clutching my stomach and wheezing for relief, when a wrongness brushed the edge of my awareness—just the sense of being watched. Not thinking much of it, I glanced past the fence toward the front of the house.
