Murmurs rippled through the crowd—approval from the wolves, interest from the witches, knowing smiles from the gossip-trackers.
“The bond is sealed. The claim is made.” His hand rose to her scarf, a question in his eyes. She nodded, and he pulled it gently free, revealing the mark—his mark, healed to a pale crescent that would never fade.
The wolves lowered their heads as one. Acceptance. Recognition. Respect.
“Avine Bell is my mate.” Theo’s voice was rough with emotion. “She stands with the pack. She stands with Haven Shores. And she stands with me.”
Silence.
Then Bran’s bellow: “WELCOME TO THE FAMILY, LITTLE MATE!”
The room erupted. Cheers and howls and witch-light sparking. Glasses raised. The chandelier’s lights went wild. Outside, the wardstones hummed in recognition.
Theo pulled her close, forehead pressing to hers. “Okay?”
“Perfect.” She kissed him—right there on the stairs, in front of everyone. Someone—definitely Cassia—let out a piercing whistle. “Absolutely perfect.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
THEO
They slipped away an hour later, when the party had reached the self-sustaining phase.
Theo guided Avine through the back door, her hand secure in his. The night air was cool and salt-sweet, the sky scattered with stars. He’d been watching her all evening—working the room, accepting congratulations, glowing in ways that made his ribs ache with satisfaction and pride. His mark on her neck. His mate. His.
The Sentinel Lighthouse rose from the bluffs, old stone pale in the moonlight. Malcolm had made himself scarce—probably at the party, charming the fae-touched librarian—and Theo had the key.
“Where are we going?” Avine’s voice carried amusement.
“Somewhere private.” He pulled her closer, his arm around her waist. “I’ve been sharing you all night. I’m done sharing.”
“Possessive.”
“Very.” He kissed her temple. “Problem?”
“None, whatsoever.”
The climb up the spiral stairs was slow, their fingers intertwined. The keeper’s room at the top was small but perfect—windows on every side, the light mechanism dormant above them, Haven Shores spread out below like a scattered jewel box.
Avine moved to the window, the moonlight catching the silver in her hair. Theo stayed where he was for a moment, watching her. Memorizing her.
She’d signed a deed and lit up every ward in town, and he’d been utterly, irrevocably lost.
“You’re staring.” She hadn’t turned around, but he could hear the smile in her voice.
“I’m appreciating.” He crossed to her, sliding his arms around her waist from behind. “I used to come here as a kid.”
She leaned back into him. “And now?”
“Now, I want to show you everything. Every place that mattered to me. Every memory I never thought I’d share with anyone.” He pressed his lips to the mark on her neck, felt her shiver. “You changed everything.”
She pivoted to face him, her palms flattening against his heartbeat. “Mutual destruction of emotional walls.”
“That should be on a greeting card.”
Her laugh was quiet, lovely. “Thank you. For tonight. For the presentation. For—” She broke off.
“I know.” His thumb traced her cheekbone. “I was doing the same thing. Pretending duty was enough. Pretending I didn’t need anything else.” He swallowed. “You made me realize how lonely I was. How much I’d been missing.”
