“You raised the dead for your own agenda?” he barks loudly, causing everyone watching the spectacle to flinch and go quiet.
Chad stutters, trying to come up with yetanotherexcuse, but I guess Dad is done listening to him.
“You,” Dad snarls, lowering his voice menacingly, “are embarrassing this family. You will apologize to your brother and his mate for all the problems you’ve generated with this stunt. You will tell the people of this town how sorry you are for causing a disturbance. And you will come home with Emily and me so we can arrange a proper punishment for this performance.” Dad lifts his upper lip, sneering in disgust at my brother. “I’m deeply disappointed in you, Chadwick.”
Chad’s face turns bright red, and tears fill his eyes, but he blinks them away and ducks his head, turning toward me with his shoulders hunched in embarrassment.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, completely insincere.
I don’t care, though. His protest is done. He’ll, hopefully, correct everyone’s opinions about my business. And everything will return to normal.
Or as normal as it ever gets as a necromancer and phoenix running a funeral home.
Later that evening, at the funeral home, soft evening light spills through the tall front windows, turning the polished floors into puddles of liquid silver. The air smells faintly of lilies and incense; the lingering scent of services held here in the past.
Ember and I decided to stay here for the night so we can get an early start tomorrow, so I lock the front door with a tired sigh and lean against the front desk, draping myself over it and going completely limp.
“Well,” I say.
“Well,” Ember repeats.
“Today was fun,” I mutter sarcastically.
Ember chuckles, low and rumbling in his chest. “If that’s what it’s like to have siblings, I’m glad my parents never wanted more.” He gives a dramatic shiver, as if the thought of having siblings horrifies him to his very core.
“Why didn’t your parents ever try for more kids?” I ask, curious about how two people who seem to be amazing parents wouldn’t want more children to spoil.
He hums thoughtfully, pulling me from the desk down onto his lap. “My dad hated being pregnant, and my mom never wanted to carry a child.”
“Wait,” I say, eyes widening incredulously. “Your dad is the one who carried you?”
“Yes,” he says, a confused little scrunch appearing between his brows. “He’s an omega, so he can carry a child. This should be something you’re already familiar with, Habibi.”
“I know omega men can carry children, dickface,” I grunt, smacking his chest, “but it’s odd to me that he carried a child when the woman is usually the one who wants to do it. That’s all. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”
“My parents are anything but traditional, as you’ve seen. Both of my parents wanted children, but my mother never wanted to carry. My father was willing to try it if it made her happy. Their marriage worked perfectly for them. I guess that’s why they’re fated mates.”
“That’s so interesting,” I murmur in a low voice, lost in thought. “Would you want children someday?”
“I do if you do, Habibi.”
“You wouldn’t care if I don’t want kids?”
“I only want you to be happy,” he whispers, kissing the tip of my nose. “If having babies makes you happy, then we can have as many as you want. If you want to keep our family as it is, then I’ll be happy spending the rest of our very long lives keeping you entertained. As long as I can be with you, I don’t care what we do.
I fall a little more in love with him at that moment. How did I get so lucky as to have him as my fated mate?
“I love you,” I say, my voice choked with thick emotion. “So, so much.”
“I love you too, Habibi.”
“I want to be your mate. Officially. As soon as possible.”
His eyes widen in surprise and excitement. “Habibi,” he breaths like a prayer, and leans in to kiss me deep and slow, exploring my mouth with his tongue.
Gods help me, but I love this man.
Chapter Twenty-Three
