Page 25 of It's in His Bite

“All right,” I whispered, trying to see his face through my building tears. His eyes were bright green, his beard rougher and longer than when we’d started the week. “Yes, I accept.”

He loosed a breath, an invisible weight falling from his shoulders. His hand left mine, carefully picking up the box. The blood red ruby sat in spectacular, lone glory, larger than any pendant I’d ever seen. I pulled my hair to the side, baring my neck, and he fastened it without misstep. His eyes blazed as the stone nestled into the hollow of my throat.

The room sucked in a collective breath as they realized what stone he had selected. Blood rubies were reserved only for Fated, for true blood mates. I’d never actually seen one in person before. I didn’t get a chance to look around the room, though, to see my mom’s reaction or Rhiannon’s or Tessa’s. Because in that moment, Landon cupped my face, tilted my chin up toward him, and then covered my mouth with his. I sank into him, letting my hands rove over his shoulders, his arms. And when my hands settled on his neck, his thought burned through me, brighter than a meteor

I love you, Harlowe Grant.

Epilogue

Four Years Later

Harlowe

God, I was going to puke. I paced around our Parisian flat, not seeing any of the specialty wallpaper we’d decorated the walls with or the antique furniture it had taken nearly three years to acquire. I couldn’t even appreciate the view of the Seine when I finally manage to pause in front of the living room’s large windows.

Where was he?

I glanced back at the table, making sure for the hundredth time the small box hadn’t suddenly disappeared. Nope, still there. A square box about the size of an apple wrapped in a deep blue paper and white ribbon. My heart flipped, swelling in my throat as Ragnarok jumped up onto the table, his large paw barely missing the present.

“Damn it, Rag, don’t!” I hissed, crossing to the table and picking him up.

It wouldn’t have mattered so much except he was the least nimble cat I’d ever seen in my life. Apparently it was something most Norwegian Forest cats had in common. He meowed unhappily, twisting in my hold, but the last thing I needed wasfor him to decide to push that present off the table. It taken me forever to find one.

“Go find something else to bother right now, okay?” I told him as I set him back on the main floor. He stared at me, his tail flicking. I pointed to the box as if he could actually understand. “Anything but this. Dad will be super irritated with you if you break, I assure you.”

Well, not that Landon knew that yet. But he would beveryirritated about it was he learned what it was. I glanced at my phone again, tracking the minutes. Just my luck that today would be the day he got hung up talking to someone at the clan meeting.

With a disgruntled meow, Ragnarok slunk into the bedroom.

I grabbed the box off the table, not willing to risk it.

And then I paced again. I let my hand travel over the various pieces of furniture in the living room: the low back settee and the traditional loveseat and the walnut stained sofa table that we used to play all of our records. I paused to look at the large gallery wall I’d slowly been filling out the last six months. Tessa, Rhiannon, my mom and dad. I smiled as I took in each photo. They were all here with us, at least in part. Only a few more weeks until we flew back for Christmas and got to take another picture to add to the wall.

But first, Landon had to gethome.

Too nervous to sit, I wandered into the study. One wall was entirely books—and not in a cutesy, aesthetic way. They were shoved on the shelves any way they could possibly fit with more on the ground and random books scattered throughout the flat, too. Having two bookworms in the middle of Paris is not for the faint of heart. The other was Landon’s collection of miniature ships-in-a-bottle.

I leaned against the threshold, taking it all in, trying to remember how to breathe.

The front door snicked closed, and the telltale click of Landon’s dress shoes on the hardwood echoed through the flat. Ragnarok’s pattering feet were next, and then his impatient, demanding meows as he reminded Landon he hadn’t been given dinner yet.

“Yes, I know.” Landon’s warm, rough voice filtered through to me. “But you’ll have to wait just a bit longer, cat.”

I didn’t move, not entirely sure I could without puking. My stomach was in such knots, worse than it had been in years. I pressed the small box to my belly, trying to calm my racing heart.

“Fated,” Landon murmured against my skin, wrapping his arms around my waist. “What are you doing standing here staring off into nothing?”

God, his accent still made my toes curl.

“Just thinking,” I whispered.

He ran his nose up my throat, his fang lightly caressing my skin. I shivered, a bolt of heat shooting straight through me. Landon pressed his smile against my skin.

“You’re going to be amazing,” he soothed. “Those students will be the luckiest to have you as their teacher.”

I relaxed into him, letting him soothe the worry. The one he knew about, at least. In just under a month, I would be starting a new job: working at the same university as Landon. Even in the same department. I was quietly excited to live out a couple raunchy desk daydreams.

But that wasn’t what had my nerves so high strung today.