Page 46 of A Malicious Menagerie (Fangs & Fables #1)

The Proposal

T he drive to my house feels surreal. The words “nothing will be the same” keep playing on repeat in my mind, but as I glance at Chase’s watchful profile, I can convince myself that’s a good thing.

After parking, I lead Chase into the house before closing and locking the door behind us with a sigh. I know my sense of safety is a false one, and we can’t dawdle here for long. “Follow me,” I tell Chase, leading him up the stairs.

In my bedroom, I pull out a small suitcase that Nan got me for Christmas my senior year of high school but I never had an occasion to use.

As I begin packing essentials, Chase takes the opportunity to look around my bedroom.

I try not to blush as I imagine his reaction to my faded band posters and the small collection of romance novels sharing space with my treasured childhood tomes.

When I turn to look through my dresser, I notice that Chase has paused with a picture frame in his hand. Even though I know what he’s seeing, I still cross the small room and peek at the photograph, my hand instinctively coming up to press to his back.

“My mother,” I explain before he can ask.

“You look like her,” he notes, scrutinizing her face as she smiles from her place kneeling on the ground over a half-finished scarecrow. I’m sitting beside her, maybe four years old at the time, all of my attention focused on putting straw in burlap.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I tease. “Though I may be biased. I thought she was so beautiful.”

“You weren’t wrong,” he agrees, his expression warm. I clear my throat before gently taking the frame from him.

“I think I can spare the space to pack this.”

Once the picture is carefully tucked away in a T-shirt, I go to my mother’s old room and dig in the back of her closet until I find what I’m looking for.

Returning to Chase—sure enough, he’s perched on the edge of my bed leafing through a raunchy paperback I got at a thrift store—I fight a blush and offer him the pile of clothing in my arms. “These were my dad’s.

My mom could never bear to give them away.

They’re dated, and they look a little small, but you might be able to find some things that fit. ”

“Thanks,” Chase says, setting down the book and taking the pile of fabric like the old flannel shirts and jeans are fragile and precious.

This gentle reverence from a man whom I watched rip the life from my attacker is so incongruous, but somehow, I’m struck in that seemingly insignificant moment by how much I love him.

Because I do. I love Chase, fangs and all.

Despite the lump of raw emotion in my throat, I manage to choke out, “We should shower. Between the two of us, we’re covered in enough blood to satisfy a vampire.”

The minute the word “shower” leaves my mouth, all his attention is on me. “Together?” he asks, a suggestive grin tugging at one corner of his lips.

I gape at him. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Come on,” he cajoles teasingly. “Don’t you want to show me that hot shower you were so excited about? You had so many nice things to say about it.”

A hot flush burns my cheeks. “I can’t believe you remember that. It was so long ago.”

The look he gives me makes my heart flutter like a butterfly trapped within my rib cage. “I remember everything you’ve ever said to me,” he replies softly.

Well. I certainly want to show him my shower after that .

Still, something makes me hesitate. “Chase, what…” I take a steadying breath, steeling myself. Be brave. “What are we? To each other. The menagerie is over. You’re free. You can go anywhere, do anything, be with … anyone.”

The words are too vulnerable, and I can almost feel the abrasive brush of the air on the open wound of my soul, but those words— I love him, I love him, I love him —keep playing on repeat in my mind like the proverbial broken record.

So quickly I don’t see him move, Chase snatches my wrist and tugs me toward him.

I land in his lap with a gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders to keep from toppling onto the floor.

“Chase,” I squeak indignantly, but when I look up to tell him off, his gaze is so solemn and sincere that the irate words die on my tongue.

His hands come up to cup my jaw, his touch infinitely more reverent than even when he handled my father’s things.

“Anna,” he rumbles, his tone somewhere between tender and exasperated. “My mother always said I don’t have a subtle bone in my body, but I tried. I tried to ease you into the idea because I know humans don’t bond the way werewolves do. Apparently, I did too good a job.”

“I’m lost,” I tell him wryly.

“I love you,” he says bluntly, and my whole body goes still at his words, even my lungs failing to draw breath.

“I’ve been in love with you since practically the first moment I saw you, and I was more and more sure with every smile, every confession, and every small act of kindness that made being so far from home bearable.

I don’t want to be anywhere unless it’s with you.

I don’t want to do anything unless you’re by my side doing it.

I don’t want to be with anyone but you, in any way you’ll have me.

” He leans his forehead against mine, and suddenly, I’m wrapped in a cocoon of his arms and warmth and wild scent of forest and musk. “You are my mate, Anna Carmichael.”

The moment is so absolutely perfect, so precious, that of course I have to ruin it by blurting, “Are you sure?”

He snorts. “Yes, Anna, I’m sure. What made you think that I didn’t want to be with you? Was it when I asked you if you wanted a wedding, or when I told you if you wanted to marry me, all you had to do was ask, or when I got my tongue between your legs the first opportunity you gave me?”

My blush is so hot, I’m worried my forehead will start to sweat where it’s still pressed to his. “Maybe it was when you said your dream girl was someone fierce,” I admit.

Chase looks affronted, and it takes his next words for me to realize that it’s on my behalf.

“Anna, you are the fiercest person I know.” I can tell he doesn’t appreciate my laugh.

“I’m serious. When your grandmother needed you, you sacrificed your plans and took on three jobs to make sure she was taken care of.

When you were faced with the existence of vampires and werewolves and sea serpents, instead of running away, you dove in headfirst. You’ve faced down murderous millionaires, befriended a vampire, and set a wendigo loose to keep me safe.

Do you really not realize how brave you are? ”

It takes a long minute for his words to sink in. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Suddenly, Chase closes the last distance between us to kiss me, and I let myself sink into his embrace and familiar taste. Pulling away far too soon for my liking, Chase murmurs, “So, is there something you would like to ask me?”

As frazzled as I am by his kisses, it takes a few heartbeats before I realize what he’s hinting at. “By human rules, you should be asking me that.”

“I told you before,” he rumbles, and his grin is full of sterling fangs. “The decision to commit is enough for a wolf. As far as I’m concerned, I’m yours, Anna. But I’d like you to be mine, too. If that’s what you want.”

And at Chase’s suddenly vulnerable expression, I realize that I’m not the only one who needs to hear the words. And it’s as easy as breathing, saying those words. “Chase, I love you, too. So much. Will you marry me?”

He bestows me that lupine grin that has become so dear to me over the last few weeks. “Yes. Anytime, anywhere, as many times as it takes for you to know you’re mine.”

“We’ll start with just the one wedding and see how it goes,” I reply teasingly. “But in the meantime… I’d like to show you my shower. Since you’ve apparently been so keen to experience it. ”

“Only if you’re in it,” he replies immediately, his fingers already searching for the zipper at the back of my dress.

“You said it best: ‘I don’t want to be anywhere unless it’s with you. I don’t want to do anything unless you’re by my side doing it.’”

“Who knew I was such a poet,” he replies dryly, finding the tiny metal tab and tugging it down until my blood-and-crystal-encrusted bodice falls away from my chest. When I unhook my strapless bra and fling it across the room, he looks spellbound.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, tracing reverently over one breast with his fingertips.

His eyes darken when my nipple immediately hardens for him.

“Now you know how I felt every time I came to visit you and saw you naked,” I tease breathlessly, arching into his touch.

“Is that why you forced me to wear pants?” he asks with a grin that makes both of his deep dimples pop. The familiar mischief in his expression makes a warm tide of fondness, exasperation, and desire flood my chest.

“How else was I supposed to get anything done?”

“Would’ve preferred that you didn’t.” To illustrate his point, he leans down to suck one nipple into his mouth, the pleasure so sharp it makes my breath hitch.

Gasping, I tangle my fingers in his dark hair, holding him against me.

He lets it go but immediately laves a long lick over the reddened tip, the wet, insistent heat pulling a moan from deep inside me.

His eyes slide closed on a groan as if my skin is the best thing he’s ever tasted.

The thought makes me feel uncharacteristically possessive, as if there’s a covetous wolf inside me, too.

Mine. Pulling back an inch, Chase murmurs, “We could have been doing this the whole time.”

“We did, if you recall,” I reply as he nuzzles my other breast, pressing soft kisses along the curve before nipping the straining peak.

I jolt, my heartbeat picking up like a cornered hare’s even as his ministrations start a pulsing ache low in my belly.

“Plus,” I add, struggling to continue my train of thought despite the bliss tightening everything below my navel, “I was working.”

“Well, now you’re unemployed,” Chase growls, and I squeak as he pushes himself to his feet, his hands guiding my legs around his waist before they take a firm grip of my ass over the chiffon. “More time for fun.”