CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Kayla
I sprawl on top of Shadow, who lies flat on his back on a bed of moss beside the pond.
A large moon hangs overhead, brightening the entire clearing.
Evening fell while we went down on each other, bringing cooler air.
Even though I’ve been out of the water long enough to mostly dry off, his heat feels too good, and I snuggle closer.
A lingering sense of contentment hums through me that’s about more than the orgasm he just gave me. I’m so glad he told me what games and play mean to him, helping me to understand our cultural—and maybe even biological—differences.
The way he opened up makes me want to offer him something too, something I rarely tell anyone.
“Shadow. I…” Hesitation strikes. I twirl a lock of his silver-tipped hair around my finger and glance up to find his green eyes glowing with reflected moonlight. The words pour out of me like a dam breaking. “I sometimes have trouble processing situations and emotions.”
“Explain it to me.” He brushes a lock of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. There’s zero censure in his tone, which makes this easier.
“When I’m in social situations, especially if it’s people I don’t know very well, I don’t know what to say or think or do.
” My finger draws little circles on his shoulder, and I stare at it instead of looking at him, scared of what I’ll see.
“Other people don’t do that. You don’t do that. You’re so good with people.”
“I’m an extrovert, and you’re not.” He gives a casual shrug. “It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong.”
“It’s more than being an introvert. I got tested as a kid, because my teacher worried that I preferred reading over playing with my classmates.
It wasn’t autism like she thought, but I was diagnosed with social anxiety.
I have an exaggerated fear that something will go wrong: that people won’t like me or will criticize me.
” A sarcastic snort of amusement escapes me.
“So there’s at least a little bit wrong.
” That’s what my parents said, right before they called the diagnosis bogus and told me I clearly wasn’t trying hard enough to make friends.
“No.” He grips my chin and makes me meet his eyes. “I might not know much about anxiety, but I’m certain you shouldn’t speak of yourself in such a way.”
“Haven’t you heard? Sarcasm is the latest in cognitive behavioral therapy.”
He reaches over to our pile of clothes and digs out his phone, the screen flashing bright as he uses his thumb to type.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m looking that up.”
“Okay, no.” I cover his hand with mine. “I was joking. Sarcasm isn’t part of cognitive behavioral therapy. Hell, the experts probably consider it the opposite. But it’s how my sense of humor works.” Kinda prickly but clever—at least I’m always that.
“I like your sense of humor and your sarcasm.” His eyes glitter with amusement as he runs the tip of one finger down the side of my breast. “Especially the tits T-shirt.”
“Of course you like that one.” A chuckle escapes me.
His hands are soft on my face as his tone grows more serious again. “But back to your social anxiety. Is there anything you can do for it?”
“I couldn’t get therapy until college, but once there, I went as much as my student health plan allowed. Medications don’t work for me, but I did a lot of cognitive behavioral therapy.”
“The real kind, I presume, not the sarcasm.”
“The real kind.” I nod. “I’m lots better than I was as a teen, though I’ll always have stuff to work on.
And I’ve recently started doing more of it again.
Opening up to people, seeing that there are good outcomes when I do, helps.
I’ve been around more people these past few weeks than I have in the entire year before this.
Throwing parties and having your family visit have been good for me.
It’s been tough at times, but it’s been good. ”
“Thank you for telling me. I’m very proud of you.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “And I’m happy to do anything to help.”
I suck in a breath, his words piercing my heart. I can’t remember the last time I felt this safe and supported.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “That means a lot.”
“Is there anything I can do right now?”
I wiggle, feeling his erection harden against my thigh. “I can think of a few things. Endorphins are great for treating anxiety.”
Shadow curls his fingers under my chin and drags a thumb across my lower lip. “How about I give you all of the endorphins?”
And he does. Oh, how he flipping does.
I spend the next two days working on fleshing out my new game. Morlano Games still has a week and a half to decide if they’re going to buy it.
But it doesn’t matter. My game is good, really good. If they don’t want it, I’ll shop it around until I find someone who does. The gaming company Xena4Eva works for might be interested.
In between running messages, Shadow starts work on making cat trees for the pixies using blue birch branches he brings home from Faerie.
This means he’s in the backyard shirtless all the damned time, because of course he is.
It’s seriously distracting. Each time I look up from my computer screen, I lose a good ten minutes before I can tear myself away from the view.
Dewdrop divides his time between helping Shadow, snuggling on my lap, or demanding I get out of my chair and play fruit fetch with him.
And Victoria? Victoria pouts her ass off like she’s entered the pouting Olympics and is going for gold.
A heavy feeling suffuses the house, punctuated by the constant sighs of wind gusting through the windows.
The lights never reach full brightness, as if someone put them all on a dimmer switch and spun the dial low.
When pouting doesn’t work, she still keeps the lights low, but switches over to seduction mode, scenting the air with sandalwood and jasmine and scattering rose petals all over my room with Dewdrop’s help.
I don’t bother to tell her that petals plucked from silk flowers aren’t as effective as real roses.
And I especially don’t mention that her last-minute attempts to get me and Shadow to consummate won’t work. Once he learned about my childhood and why I’m so concerned about having agency, he insisted we hold off on penetrative sex until after the marriage contract dissolves.
Thank god, the werepanther is truly amazing with his tongue.
Shadow finishes with woodworking for the evening on Friday and comes inside. He leans over my shoulder, squinting at the page of dialogue filling the right screen. “You at a stopping place? Let’s have dinner.”
“I could eat.” I hit save and send a backup to my cloud server.
“Want to go into town or—”
Doors slam throughout the house, followed by the all-too-familiar sound of locks clicking.
“You’re not going anywhere until you consummate!” Victoria writes. “This is the last night, and you’re going to spend it here.”
I leap to my feet and throw up my hands. “You have got to be flipping kidding me!”
“There are only sixteen more hours to go until the marriage contract dissolves.” Shadow grips my shoulder. “We can do this.”
“You’re right, we can. But that’s not the point.” I jab a finger toward the parchment. “The point is she needs to stop doing this.” She needs to stop taking away my ability to choose.
“I’m about to lose everything.” A feeling of anguish weighs on the air.
“What exactly are you going to lose when the marriage contract dissolves?” I ask, starting to feel bad for her. I might not like what she’s doing, but I still hate seeing her in pain. “I’ll still be here. Dewdrop will still be here. Shadow…” I falter, not wanting to speak for him.
“I will, of course, still be here,” he says.
“Well?” I cock an eyebrow at the parchment. “What do you say? Will you unlock the doors?”
“Will you have one last date here tonight?” she writes. “A proper date with wine and steaks and candlelight?”
I share a glance with Shadow, who murmurs, “It’s up to you.”
This wonderful, joyous, amazing man is letting me have the one thing I crave, the one thing that helps me to feel safe. He’s giving me the complete freedom to choose. My heart leaps against my ribs, ready to take flight.
“I could murder a steak.” My lips curl.
He grins back. “Then steak you shall have.”
The quiet snicks of locks clicking open echo through the house, and the lights and mood brighten as we get to work.
Shadow puts his new grill skills to the test, and I set the dining table under Victoria’s careful direction, using all the best china. Dewdrop helps by fetching things from the kitchen, with Victoria opening and closing cabinets for him.
In less than an hour, we sit down to a candlelit dinner of steak, baked potatoes, and leafy green salad. Dewdrop gets a special treat, too. His new favorite thing is for me to cut a watermelon in half and let him dive in. It’s messy, but he loves it so much, I can’t say no.
The ribeye is tender, the potatoes buttery, and the crisp greens taste bright and fresh. Dewdrop scoops a handful of red, sugary pulp into his mouth and makes happy smacking noises.
“I’d like to make a toast.” I lift my glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. “To good food, great wine, and the best company any girl could ask for.”
We clink glasses and drink while Dewdrop does a happy loop in the air and the sound of kitchen-cabinet applause comes from the next room.
“I too would like to make a toast.” Shadow’s green eyes sparkle as he smiles at me. “To family.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I take a moment, feeling too many things all at once.
Joy and sadness and love swirl through me.
I haven’t had any true family since Grandma passed, and this little one I’ve made is precious.
I put on a brave face for Victoria earlier, but a part of me still worries everything could change once the marriage contract dissolves.
I believe Shadow when he says he’ll stay, but the old hurts of past rejection will always haunt me, no matter how much I try to move past them.
“To family.” I drink, hoping with everything I’ve got that we’ll still be one by this time tomorrow.
The next afternoon, we stand in the entryway watching the final seconds of the marriage contract tick down on my phone screen, the tension ratcheting tighter the closer it gets.
Dewdrop perches on the staircase banister, staring at us with big, concerned eyes.
The pictures on the wedding wall start to move, as if Victoria can’t hold still either.
In sync, Shadow and I count down the last seconds out loud. “… three, two, one!”
Nothing happens.
“Why didn’t I feel any magic?” I ask. “I expected a burst of power or a weight lifted or something.”
“I didn’t feel anything either,” Dewdrop chirps.
“Because Victoria didn’t dissolve the contract yet.” Shadow points to the fuzzy burgundy lines of tiny text still present at the bottom right of the wall. “The fine print is still in place.”
“Victoria! You promised!” I whirl to face the parchment.
“I am going to do it! You simply had your timing wrong,” she spells out. “It’s three, two, one…”
A burst of magic ripples through the house, and the velvet flocking of the fine print swirls across that section of wallpaper to form the original floral pattern.
“I felt it that time!” Dewdrop spreads his wings and bobs up and down in a little dance of happiness.
“We’re free!” Relief melts my muscles. I have full freedom to choose what I want, and so does Shadow. We can finally see what this is between us without anyone controlling us. I start to throw my arms around him, but he ducks.
A shiver of anxiety goes through me, and I freeze in disbelief even as my mind starts to race.
Is he already pulling away from me? It’s the worst-case scenario, the one I thought might happen, the one I tried to make myself stop worrying about.
But oh, god, it’s happening. I was right all along.
He’ll leave, and I’ll be all alone, and—
No, wait. He’s not pulling away. He’s…
My hands plaster to my mouth as an even bigger shock hits me right in the heart.
Shadow sinks down on one knee, holds up a small wooden box, and flips it open to show a gorgeous square-cut amethyst ring nestled in a tiny bed of moss.
“Kayla, my witchy beauty, now that we’re free of any external pressures, I ask: will you be my wife, my mate?
Will you be the love of my life?” He lifts the ring higher.
“I love you. I love your strength and determination. I love your beauty. I love how you’ve survived to become the amazing woman I see standing before me.
One who’s wildly creative and shares that creativity with the world to make so many people happy with your games. ”
He loves me! I was right all along. Shadow loves me!
Happiness fizzes and bubbles in my chest until I feel like I’ll pop. It’s overwhelming and amazing and the best feeling ever.
“Will you marry me, my witchy beauty? Shall we win the courtship game together? Will you play with me forever?”