Page 194 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim

Then Dorian closes the space between us, and he cups the side of my neck like I’m something precious. “Tell me again.” His murmur is hoarse, a man starving for the words.

“I love you.” The simple statement hangs between us, a promise and a vow. “Like you, I tried not to. Then I tried not to admit it. But I do.”

Something inside him shatters at that, and I can see the pieces in his eyes—relief, hunger, maybe even hope.

For a beat, no one breathes.

Something in his expression fractures—sharp edges giving way to something raw and almost undone. “Christ, Isla…” He swallows hard, stroking my skin like he needs the contact to believe it’s real. “I’ve been walking around half-alive without you.”

Brennan steps in, his hand warm on my back. “Guess I’m not the only one who’s been losing my mind.”

My laugh is shaky. “You both drive me insane.”

Dorian straightens as he draws a breath.

His hand leaves my neck, and for a second, I think he’s stepping away. Instead, he reaches into his pocket.

My heart lurches. “What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, he pulls out a small black velvet box and holds it like it weighs more than it should.

Then he lowers himself to one knee, the movement slow and deliberate, as if the act itself is a vow.

Frowning, reeling, I look between the two men.

His gaze fastened on me, Dorian opens the lid.

My breath catches, and I press a hand to my throat.

Nestled inside is la Flamme Cachée, the opal I’d fallen in love with in New Orleans. The gem’s colors are alive—blue, green, gold shifting like it’s breathing.

“You lit up when you saw her. I was too busy chasing diamonds to pay attention.” His gaze flickers—an apology without the word. “I listened. So I went back.”

The words hit like a warm tide, stealing the air from my lungs. My eyes burn, and I bite down on my lip to keep it from trembling. I remember the exact moment I saw the stone, the way the light caught it and my heart inexplicably clenched. And now—now he’s holding it out to me, probably the greatest gift I’ve ever received.

He turns the ring so I can see it. His thumb nudges the underside, reverent. “And there’s something hidden beneath the setting. You’ll know it’s there.”

Brennan’s palm finds the small of my back, steadying, saying without words that he’s with us.

I can’t help it—I reach. The metal is warm, or maybe that’s just his heat in it. The opal flares violet, then green, then a deep, impossible gold that makes my heart flutter.

“You had no choice about marrying me. I love you, Isla. And now, I’m here, asking you to do me the honor of being my wife”—his gaze takes in Brennan—”our wife, in all ways, emotionally, as well as legally. Forever.”

The air goes thick in my chest, pressing against my ribs until it aches. I swallow hard, my vision blurring, because this man—this infuriating, impossible man—has offered his love, the only thing that matters to me.

My pulse thunders in my ears, and Brennan’s touch at my back is like a steel support that holds me upright.

“I’ve never proposed, little one. Never. Until you. You mean the world to me. Will you have me? Us?”

Something inside me breaks open—relief, joy, and that dangerous, dizzy kind of hope all rushing in at once. My throat is too tight, but I manage to look from Dorian to Brennan. Brennan’s nod is small but reassuring, offering his commitment.

The only answer I can give comes out on a trembling breath. “Yes.”

“May I?” Dorian asks.

He slides the ring onto my finger, slow, careful, as if he’s putting something back that was always mine. The bezel kisses my skin; the gallery’s delicate work glints, a tiny secret meant for me alone.

“It’s…” The moment is reverent. “Perfect.”