Chapter 19 #3
The position put me below her eye level for the first time since we'd met. Seven feet of Orc warrior, kneeling before a five-foot-six human woman. Humbling myself. Offering myself.
Her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes went wide, pupils blown. I watched her knees actually buckle slightly before she locked them, her whole body trembling.
I pulled the ring from my pocket—simple silver with a cluster of small diamonds. Our forgemaster Jurik had crafted it from gold and gems mined from our underground home. Practical enough for a lawyer. Beautiful enough to show how much she meant to me.
Sarah's breath came out in a rush. Her hand was still pressed to her mouth, and I saw fresh tears spilling over.
"I brought you here because this is where everything changed," I said, looking up at her—making her hold my gaze, making her see the truth in my eyes. "This is where you stopped being my lawyer and became my everything."
She was crying openly now, but she was smiling too—that brilliant, devastating smile that made my chest ache.
"I know by human standards it's fast." I shifted my weight slightly, settling more firmly into the kneeling position.
Making it clear this wasn't a quick gesture—I would stay here, on my knees before her, for as long as it took.
"But Sarah, I've known you were my mate since the first time I kissed you.
Maybe even before that. And I don't want to waste another day pretending this is anything less than forever. "
I held up the ring, my hand steady despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm me. Despite the vulnerability of this position—of offering myself to her completely.
"Sarah Potter, will you marry me?" Each word was deliberate, weighted with meaning.
"Will you be my mate, my partner, my wife?
Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, protecting you, probably arguing with you about the correct way to organize kitchen cabinets, and definitely being bossed around by the most brilliant, stubborn, beautiful woman I've ever known? "
For a moment, she couldn't speak. Could only stand there, trembling, tears streaming down her face, one hand pressed to her mouth and the other clutched over her heart.
Then she dropped to her knees in front of me.
The movement was sudden, graceless, driven by emotion rather than thought. She knelt on the hard wooden floor, bringing herself to my level, and reached for me with shaking hands.
"Yes," she breathed, and then she was kissing me—fierce and desperate and so full of love it nearly broke me.
Her hands framed my face, fingers careful and reverent, and I felt the moment she tilted her head to deepen the kiss.
Her lips brushed against the edge of my tusk, and instead of pulling back, she leaned into it.
The acceptance of that simple gesture sent something primal and possessive coursing through my chest.
I wrapped my arms around her, lifting her off her knees and pulling her against me as she kissed me like she was trying to pour everything she felt into the contact.
I felt her fingers trace the line of my tusks gently, an exploration that was both curious and intimate.
When she finally broke the kiss to breathe, she was smiling through her tears.
"Yes," she said again, pressing her forehead to mine. "Yes to all of it. Yes to you."
I caught her hands in mine—one still trembling, the other pressed flat against my chest now, right over my heart. I slid the ring onto her finger slowly, reverently, watching it catch the light streaming through the new windows.
A perfect fit.
She stared at it for a heartbeat, then launched herself at me.
I caught her easily, wrapping my arms around her as she buried her face against my neck. Her whole body was shaking with sobs now—the kind of happy crying that came from somewhere deep and primal, emotion too big to be contained.
I held her through it, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other wrapped around her waist. Letting her feel everything. Letting her break apart in my arms because she knew—she knew—I would hold her together.
"I love you," she whispered against my skin, the words broken and fierce. "I love you so much."
"I love you too." I pulled back just enough to see her face—flushed, tear-stained, absolutely radiant. "My mate. My Sarah. Mine."
"Yours," she agreed, and kissed me.
I stood, lifting her with me, and she wrapped her legs around my waist without breaking the kiss. Her hands tangled in my hair, her body pressed flush against mine, and I felt her heart racing against my chest.
"Bedroom," she murmured against my lips. "Now."
I carried her through the doorway, kicking the door closed behind us with one foot. The new bed waited, the handmade quilt already turned down.
I laid her on it gently, reverently, and she pulled me down with her.
"Our cabin," she whispered, her eyes bright with joy and desire and everything I'd ever wanted to see there.
"Our beginning," I corrected, settling my weight over her, feeling her arch up to meet me.
And as I kissed her again, as her hands found my skin and mine found hers, I knew with absolute certainty that this—us, here, now—was exactly where we were always meant to be.