Page 86 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny

Rosalia.

Rosalia,hisRosalia, had been the one to kill the Alpha of the Black Claws?

Sensing his pure shock, Felix huffed a laugh. “Never cross a female defending her mate.”

Rick could only breathe, “She’s not my mate.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t she?”

His mate. Hismate. The word filled him up, warm and shining, and completely unbidden tears filled his eyes. “My mate.”

“Christ,” Felix said, taking a step back, “maybe you’re more injured than we thought.”

Rick swallowed, too consumed by the thought to even contemplate embarrassment.

His mate.

“I’m going to let you rest,” Felix said, somewhat awkwardly. “Dane and Nicolas are with the females and children. Thankfully, Nicolas’s borders held up during the attack; we didn’t lose any children or any of the non-fighters.”

His words passed like smoke. Rick only blinked at him.

Felix sighed. “Rest, your part isn’t finished. Not yet.”

Rick gave the faintest nod, and Felix turned, slipping from the room as silently as he had entered.

Silence fell.

Rick let his head tip back against the headboard. He should have felt relief. He should have felt triumph. Instead, he felt hollow, raw.

The door opened again.

Rosalia stepped inside.

Her hair was loose, tangled, streaked with smoke. A cut marred her cheek, her knuckles were raw, but she was alive. Her eyes found his at once, and the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding left him in a rush.

She crossed the room slowly, as though unsure whether she was welcome.

“You’re awake,” she said softly.

“So it seems.” His voice was hoarse.

For a moment, they only looked at one another. The weight of what had passed between them, the letters, the fight, the accusations, hung in the air.

Rick cleared his throat. “Rosalia…” He stopped. Words failed him. He had never been good with them, never learned how to use them without cutting. But he could not let this moment pass. Not again.

“I was wrong,” he said finally, voice low, “about you. About everything.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

“I let my pride talk,” he continued, forcing each word past the weight in his chest. “I saw your letters, saw my name, and I let old scars blind me. I hurt you because I thought I was protecting myself. Protecting Eva. But the truth is, you’ve done nothing but fight for us. For me. And I…” His throat closed. “I’m sorry, Rosalia. More than I’ve ever been sorry for anything.”

She stood very still, her hands clasped in front of her. Her lips trembled as though she didn’t trust them to speak.

“I don’t want this to be a game anymore,” Rick said, his voice rough, “not a contract. Not an arrangement. I want you as my wife. Truly. If you’ll have me.”

Her breath caught.

“And Eva—” His chest tightened as he said it. “She’s yours already. You’ve been her mother in all the ways that matter. If you want it, I’d be glad for you to make it official. To adopt her. To make us a family, not just in word but in truth.”