“You okay?” His voice was wrecked.
“I’m more than okay.” I pressed my palm flat against his chest. “I can feel you.”
His hand covered mine. “I know. I feel you too.”
I traced a slow circle on his chest. “For the record, I don’t regret the bear spray.”
His laugh rumbled under my hand. “Neither do I.”
I smiled against his skin and closed my eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heart carry me somewhere safe.
Epilogue
Liz
Two months ago, if someone had told me I’d be living with a dragon shifter and hosting get-togethers with his quad, I would have suggested they seek psychiatric help. Yet here I was, feeling more at peace than I had in years.
Well, maybe not complete peace, since Zarek and Atlas were arguing about the best type of potato to use in potato salad.
“For the last time, red potatoes hold their shape better.” Zarek crossed his arms with stubborn certainty.
Atlas pointed his beer at him. “Sure, they hold shape, but Yukon Golds have a creamier texture. It’s about mouthfeel.”
“Mouthfeel?” Zarek scoffed. “When did you become a food critic?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you two seriously having a dispute about potatoes?”
Zarek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re hostages to his experimentation.”
“Quality control is important.” Atlas winked at me. “You’ll be my tiebreaker today.”
I looked between them. “I agree with Zarek.”
Zarek gave Atlas a smug look as Atlas gasped dramatically.
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Atlas said.
“I’m on the side of the potato salad. That’s all I’m committed to.” I’d only tasted three versions of Atlas’s salad, and all were delicious.
Lucan laughed from the chair next to mine, his hand resting easily on my knee. Kade leaned back with his feet up on the railing, contributing only an amused smile to the potato debate. Reese had her legs tucked up under her in the big Adirondack chair she’d claimed the moment we came outside, her wine glass balanced on the armrest.
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at it.
It buzzed again.
And again.
She picked it up, looked at the screen, and made a face somewhere between amusement and mild concern.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Harper.” She tilted the phone so I could see the screen.
The texts were coming in fast.
Harper: SOS!
Harper: No, literally. SOS.
