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“Or,” he continued, lifting the smaller urn and tugging a bunch of wildflowers from inside, “you can keep these in it. Because I want you in my life, Maggie. Like I need oxygen. I’m not breathing right without you.”

My lips parted, but nothing came out.

Roman took another step, gently setting the flowers and urns on the mat beside me. “And just to get ahead of your follow-up question,” he said. “Lucien knows. About everything. And I told him exactly what I wanted.”

“You did?” I whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

“I told him I want you. I love the pack, but I don’t want to live for it. I want to be in the city. I want to help when I can, but the whole beta thing? That’s not me. It crushes something in me. So I turned it down.”

My jaw dropped. “You… turned it down?”

He smiled shyly. “I did.”

He stepped closer and crouched in front of me, like he was proposing—but with less pressure and more desperate affection. “Lucien offered me something else. A new role. Pack Integration Officer. I’ll help younger wolves and estranged members transition into human life. Help them find jobs, apartments, therapists, whatever they need. Host meetings between packs, keep things calm. Keep magic quiet.”

I swallowed. “That sounds perfect for you.”

He nodded. “Lucien thought so too. Said I’m better at connecting people than commanding them. And I think I know how to save the pack’s magic, but I’ll tell you all about that later.”

I gave a choked laugh.

“And,” Roman added, “he gave us his blessing. He said he’s seen how we look at each other—and that we crushed that game show.”

That made me laugh, real and full. “We did crush it.”

“I’m serious, Maggie.” His voice turned softer, like it was just the two of us again. “I meant what I said. I want you. Not as a roommate. Not as a fake anything. Just as you and me.”

My throat tightened. I stared down at him, heart racing like it might burst free.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I think I’ve loved you this whole time, but I didn’t realize it until I thought I had lost you.”

Roman stood and reached out, brushing my sweaty hair off my forehead. “You’re not losing me. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I want you, Maggie James… if you’ll have me.”

I didn’t say anything. I reached up and kissed him.

It wasn’t the nervous, testing kiss of two people trying something out. It was solid. Fierce. A thousand unspoken words wrapped in the press of our mouths. I love you. I choose you. I’m done running.

He wrapped his arms around me, grounding me even as the studio spun. He kissed me like I was everything.

Somewhere in the background, the entire class clapped. A couple of women actually cheered. Someone sniffled and muttered, “That’s better than The Bachelor.”

I laughed against his lips and pressed my forehead to his. “This can’t be real life.”

“It is,” Roman said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

In his arms, in front of a crowd of sweaty strangers and a punching bag that had taken the brunt of my heartbreak, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Safe.

Not because he saved me. But because he saw me. Because he stayed.

And I would never let go.

33

ROMAN

The air had that cool, clean bite that came after a long day and made me want to breathe a little deeper. The grass along the border was still damp under my boots. Somewhere beneath it all, the wards hummed—a low, steady vibration, like they were listening.