“I know I haven’t made that as abundantly clear as I should have…I know I haven’t been the best mate…but I…I love you, Max. I loveyou.Fate has nothing to do with that.”
All of a sudden my head is spinning and my breaths are coming short and fast.
“I…love you too,” I say.
There’s nothing left to say, so we kiss inside our tent. Outside the stars must still be shining, a glittery blanket cocooning us, the wind still blowing warm and dry, and the moon—somewhere between half and full—glowing as it looks down on us. But none of that matters. The world outside, the rest of wolfkind, the moon gods themselves can’t reach us in here. We’ve run to the desert, the ends of the world, as far as we can go, away from prying eyes, responsibilities, and civilization, to find peace and connection and somehow, despite not being able to mind-link, it’s worked. We’ve reached a deeper understanding of each other, I feel closer to Jasper than ever before.
He unzips the side of my sleeping bag so we can get even closer.
“Is this okay?” Jasper asks as his hand slides up the back of my T-shirt.
“Yes,” I say, completely breathless.
“Do you want to…?”
Again, I say, “Yes.”
I dream of Jasper.
He stands before me wearing a tuxedo. His hair is slicked back, his lips quirked into a smile, his green eyes shining brilliantly in the sun. We’re standing on the roof of a building—the packhouse, only it isn’t. In my dream version this rooftop has a garden: neat topiaries line the balustrade, grass as green as Jasper’s eyes rolls out before us, cherry trees dance in the breeze, letting their petals fall and drift like confetti.
To my left a crowd is seated on white foldout chairs on either side of an aisle. Everyone is here—my parents, Katie, Aisha, Jericho, Mason—wearing formal wear and watching us as we stand before them.
“I’m so happy,” Jasper says, rubbing the back of my hands with his thumbs.
Glancing down, I notice I’m also wearing a suit—a white jacket with a red cummerbund, a black bow tie and pants, shiny patent leather shoes.
I glance between him and the crowd of expectant, happy faces.
“What’s—what’s happening?” I whisper.
He smiles and shakes his head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean why is everyone staring at us?”
“It’s our mating ceremony, Bonehead.”
“Our—what?”
“The happiest day of our lives,” he says and clasps my face.
“You mean we’re…” I look to Katie for answers but she only dabs her eyes with a handkerchief. My mom squeezes Dad’s arm, he’s crying too. Jericho nods at me proudly. And Jasper…Jasper is smiling, staring into me like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “We’re…in front of everyone?”
“Do you accept me as your mate, Maximilian?”
I’m flummoxed. A melon-sized lump forms in my throat as I choke out a response. “Of course I do, but Jasper, can’t we—?”
“Will you accept my mark?”
“Your what?”
Jasper opens his mouth wide enough that I can see his fangs elongating. The crowd leans toward us, edging forward in their seats. To my right is a steep drop, over a hundred stories to the unforgiving pavement below.
“Do you accept my mark?” Jasper repeats, his lip curling back ever so slightly.
The sunny sky is suddenly cloudy, the wind is picking up, tearing blossoms and leaves from the cherry trees until their branches are bare. The crowd runs as rain pelts the roof, toppling over chairs and leaving chaos in their wake.
“Jasper, can we…can we talk…I’m not sure I’m ready.”
