Chapter 26 Paradise, After All #4
Want so deep he was ashamed of it.
“I hoped,” he said.
That was unfair. It was impossible to be properly annoyed when a giant dangerous man chose emotional honesty in front of witnesses.
“I have a lease,” I said.
“I will pay to break it.”
“I have plants.”
“I will learn plants.”
“I have a favorite grocery store.”
“There are boats.”
“I have a life.”
“Yes,” he said. “I know.”
There was no argument in him. No claim. No old-law expectation that the word mate meant my world dissolved into his. He knew exactly what he was asking me to leave. He was willing to wait while I decided what leaving meant.
The bond warmed.
I sighed. “I hate that you’re being reasonable.”
Ronan looked at me. “He is not always.”
“I know. I was there for the murder rug incident.”
Cormac murmured, “A strong name for his wolf.”
Ian gave him a flat look.
I squeezed Ian’s hand. “I’m not saying no.”
Everything in him went still.
“I’m saying we wrap up my life properly,” I said. “My apartment. My work. My family. My very judgmental neighbor who has been feeding my plants and will absolutely assume you are a cult leader if you show up in all black.”
“I can wear gray.”
“You will still look like a cult leader.”
“I can smile.”
“Worse.”
A faint sound came from Ronan. It might have been a laugh, but if asked under oath he would probably deny it.
Sava looked at the sky. “You are not going anywhere until I clear her stitches.”
“I agree,” Ian said.
I stared at him. “Do not start agreeing with Sava against me. That is a dangerous marital precedent.”
My mother sat down hard in a chair. “So you are married.”
“I didn’t sign anything,” I said.
Aunt Linda poured tea. “Honey, after that courtyard declaration, I think paperwork would be redundant.”
Tessa, from the doorway, said, “You did tell everyone to kill you too.”
“I was in the moment.”
“You ripped your shirt open.”
“It was a sweater, and I was making a point.”
“You slapped a wolf.”
“He started it.”
Ian leaned closer and murmured, “I did growl.”
“See?” I said. “He admits fault.”
My father appeared behind my mother, heard only the last ten seconds, and immediately turned around.
“No,” he said. “I need coffee before this conversation.”
For the first time in days, the laughter around me didn’t feel like a defense.
It sounded strange in this place. Human voices and wolf voices mixing under the gray island sky.
My mother and Sava discussing broth as if they had not nearly come to blows over painkillers.
Aunt Linda asking Cormac whether all wolves were “that flexible,” which made him choke on tea and Sava threaten to rebreak his shoulder.
Tessa sitting beside Evan while Henry slept across both their feet like he had arranged the match himself.
Awkward.
Impossible.
Alive.
Ian sat beside me through all of it, his hand wrapped around mine.
That night, when everyone finally slept or pretended to, Ian brought me to the suite. Our suite, apparently, though I had not approved the possessive language on the paperwork.
Sava had cleared me for “rest, sleep, and nothing interesting,” then looked directly at both of us while saying it. Ian had gone so still beside me that I almost laughed.
“Subtle,” I had told her.
“I am not paid for subtle.”
Now the room was quiet. Clean sheets. Low lamplight. Rain at the balcony doors. No blood on the floor. No council in the corner. No wolf watching from the edge of Ian’s skin, waiting for me to disappear.
Just him.
Just me.
Just the bond, warm and steady between us.
Ian stood near the foot of the bed, looking at me as if I were something fragile and sacred and likely to yell if mishandled.
That was accurate.
“I can sleep on the couch,” he said.
I stared at him. “Absolutely not.”
“You need rest.”
“I need several things. Rest is on the list. You leaving the bed is not.”
His eyes darkened, and the bond warmed in answer to the sudden heat that moved through him. He tried to lock it down.
I pointed at him. “Don’t.”
His jaw tightened. “Cassie.”
“I am not made of glass.”
“You are injured.”
“Yes, which is why we are going to sleep, and you are going to hold me in a medically respectful manner.”
His mouth almost moved.
“You may laugh,” I said.
He came to me slowly, as if giving me time to change my mind.
I didn’t.
When he lay beside me, I eased carefully against him. Everything hurt, but less when his arm settled around me. The bond went quiet in the best way, like a house finally locked against the storm.
Ian pressed his mouth to my hair.
“I almost lost you,” he said.
“You almost threw yourself into death without consulting me.” I pointed out.
“I know.”
“I am still mad.”
“I know.”
“I love you.”
He went still and I lifted my head. The look on his face almost hurt to see. Like the words had reached him again and he still didn’t know where to put them.
So I put them where they belonged.
“I love you,” I said. “You can get used to it. I plan to be obnoxious.”
His hand cupped my cheek.
“I love you,” he said.
The bond answered, deep and sure, and this time, neither of us flinched.