Page 21
“ O kay, that was something I never needed to see in a million years,” I mutter to Kian, my voice light but tinged with the kind of shell shock that only comes from catching your grandfather getting busy in his underwear with a woman wearing a brassiere that looks like it could stop bullets.
We’re back in my room, finishing up packing a few things. Not everything—just enough for me to stay at Kian’s cabin for the night.
Give Gramps some space.
Let him play house with Melody, his brand-new fiancée, apparently.
Still reeling from that, by the way.
There’d been tea, cucumber sandwiches, and a very awkward but oddly sweet conversation.
Melody asked me to call her by her first name, and my grandpa—bless his seventy-four-year-old, orthotic-wearing, card-playing heart—looked about as smug as a man in love and a bathrobe could possibly get.
He even patted her hand like we were at some vintage black-and-white movie where the guy has to light a cigarette to seem cool.
Except, you know, he was in boxers, and she was wearing lingerie that could double as medieval armor.
So yeah. We’re all traumatized.
But also? Maybe weirdly happy?
Because this day has been a lot.
Let’s recap, shall we?
First:
I find out Shifters are real. Like, really real.
Fur, fangs, claws, hooves, horns and all.
Second:
I’m mated.
To a Bull Shifter with a jaw that could cut steel and a voice that somehow short-circuits my brain and my panties.
Third:
Said Bull Shifter is maybe-possibly going to lose himself to the Rut, a terrifying, hormone-induced supernatural spiral that could rip us apart before we even have a chance.
Fourth:
I get swept into a girls’ day out meets super group of hot Shifter wives, where we eat scones, talk mating rituals, and place bets on whether Bulls bite during sex.
They do. Spoiler alert! I’m the evidence.
Fifth:
I help witness a birth.
Like a literal twin birth.
In a house.
On a ranch.
With howling, pain, love, and the kind of support that would make any rom-com jealous.
I cried. They cried. The babies cried.
Even Kian looked misty, and that man doesn’t seem like the type to do misty.
And finally, I catch my grandpa in his boxers with a secret girlfriend, whose vibe is pin-up librarian with a penchant for chamomile tea and seduction .
So yeah.
It’s been a hell of a day.
And I should be overwhelmed.
I should be reeling.
I should be two steps out the door with a packed bag and a one-way bus ticket to anywhere but here.
But I’m not.
Because through all the chaos, confusion, and emotional whiplash, I’ve come to a truth so deep it roots right into the core of me.
I’m not running from this.
Not from the wildness.
Not from the unknown.
Not from Kian.
Because somewhere between the laughter and the tears, the shocks and the sweetness, I realize this isn’t the end of my story.
It’s the beginning.
And I’m not watching it happen from the sidelines.
I’m walking into it.
Head high, heart open, and ready to fight for the kind of love most people only ever dream about.
“Yeah, that was something, huh?” Kian says, that crooked grin of his flashing like a switchblade made of pure sin.
It hits me dead center, slicing right through my composure.
God help me.
I’m toast.
I stare at him, my whole chest aching with want, but also with something more grounded.
Something real.
Something brave.
Because yeah, I’m scared.
Scared of what this means.
Scared of the Rut.
Scared of what might happen to him. To us.
But I’m more scared of wasting this time pretending I don’t want him. Pretending I’m not already in love with this big, growly, secretly soft Bull of a man.
And I know I have to choose.
So I do.
Before I can speak, he takes a breath and beats me to it.
“Arliss, I know you’ve got questions. And I know what I did—claiming you without telling you everything—” he breaks off, jaw tight, shoulders tense. “That wasn’t fair. I should’ve waited. But there’s something you need to know. More than anything else.”
I turn fully toward him. My heart is pounding so hard it’s a miracle it doesn’t crack my ribs.
“What?” I whisper.
His eyes meet mine, golden and earnest and filled with more emotion than I thought any man could hold.
“I love you.”
The words land like thunder.
“It’s fast, and maybe it’s crazy, and yeah, you’d be right to question it—but it’s real. It’s mine. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.”
I feel the heat start in my chest, then spread like fire licking through my veins.
I can’t do anything about it here.
Not in this house, not with Gramps one room away sipping his tea with his lingerie-clad lady love—but I need him to know that I hear him.
I feel him.
And I’m with him.
So I smile.
Not shy. Not scared.
Sure. Brave. Honest.
And with more guts than I knew I had, I look him straight in those wild, wounded stormy brown eyes and I open my mouth.
“Good.”
His brow furrows, like he misheard me. “Good?”
“Yeah. Good.” I reach for my bag, sling it over my shoulder, then grab the smaller one filled with my cosmetics and toiletries.
“Now take me home, Kian. Then you can show me exactly what you meant by that declaration.”
He straightens, like I just threw down a gauntlet he’s been dying to pick up.
“Yeah? You mean that?”
I toss him the larger bag and grin. “It’s early days. I don’t know where this is gonna go, but I know I want to find out.”
And then, quieter, but with every inch of my heart behind it.
“Let’s just promise each other something right now. Honesty. Always. No secrets. No pretending. You feel something, you say it. You have questions, you ask. No more bottling things up or hiding from the hard stuff. Can we do that? Is it a deal?”
It’s a risk.
A huge one.
I’ve never been this open with anyone before.
But if I don’t try— if I don’t fight for him —then what the hell was all this for?
He doesn’t hesitate.
Not for a second.
“Deal.” His voice is low and reverent.
Like a vow.
A heartfelt promise.
And when he reaches for my hand, the way his fingers wrap around mine makes me feel something I never expected to feel in this world.
Safe.
Wanted.
Loved.
No matter what comes next, I know I’m not doing it alone.
And that matters a fuckton.