The vessel rocked gently, anchored in a calm cove a short distance from shore. Maeva and Jarrek had helped him string lights across the rigging—soft, glowing orbs that caught the fading sunlight and turned it golden. Anya had gathered flowers from Maeva’s garden, weaving them into garlands that she draped around the railings, their perfume sweet in the evening air
It was simple but beautiful, and he was terrified.
“She’s going to love it,” Anya said from beside him. She wore a pale blue flowing dress that Maeva had lent her, and she looked older suddenly, poised and confident.
“What if she does not?” The fear escaped before he could stop it. “What if she thinks it is too soon? What if?—”
“What if you stop panicking?” Anya nudged him. “She loves you. She’s having your baby. She’s not going to say no.”
“She might?—”
“She won’t.” Anya’s voice softened. “Trust me. She’s going to cry and say yes and probably kiss you in front of everyone.”
The thought made his tail twitch. He wanted that—her joy, her tears, her yes. He wanted to make this official.
“We’re coming,” Jarrek called from across the water. He’d volunteered to ferry Corinne and Mikoz out, telling her only that Selik had a surprise.
His heart beat harder than it ever had before a battle.
The small dinghy approached, cutting through the water with barely a ripple. He could see Corinne in the bow, Mikoz in her arms, her hair loose and catching the light. She was beautiful. Soft and round with pregnancy, glowing with health, smiling as she talked to Mikoz.
His mate. His family. His everything.
The dinghy pulled alongside. Jarrek secured it, then carefully helped Corinne aboard. Her eyes widened as she took in the lights, the flowers, the?—
“Selik?” she asked uncertainly. “What’s all this?”
He went to her, gently taking Mikoz from her arms and passing him to Anya. His daughter smiled and moved to the side, giving them space.
“Corinne.” His voice came out rough, thick with emotion. “I need to tell you something.”
She blinked, wariness creeping in. “Okay?”
“I love you,” he said, starting with the foundation. “I love you more than I thought possible. More than I knew I could.”
“I love you too,” she said, soft and puzzled. “But?—”
“But I do not think you understand what that means to me.” He took her hands, held them carefully. “I am Cire. When we bond, it is permanent and irrevocable.”
Her breath caught. “And we’re?—”
“We are bonded,” he confirmed. “You are my mate. The only female I will ever want.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Selik?—”
“But you are human,” he continued. “And humans need more than biology. They need symbols. Declarations. They need?—”
“They need to know you’re choosing them,” she whispered. “Not just instinct. But choice.”
“Yes.” He squeezed her hands. “I am choosing you. Every day. Every moment. For the rest of my life.”
A tear spilled over, tracking down her cheek. “You’re proposing.”
“I am asking you to bond with me,” he said. “Publicly. Officially. In the way your people would understand.”
“Marry you.” Her voice broke. “You’re asking me to marry you.”
“Yes. But I do not have a ring,” he admitted reluctantly.
