“I wanted you to know,” he said. “I wanted you to understand my commitment.”
“I feel it.” She lifted her head, looked at him. “I feel so loved.”
“You are loved.” He touched her face. “More than I can express. More than I can?—”
“More than words,” she finished. “I know. I feel the same.”
They sat in silence, watching the sky darken, the lights on the rigging glowing brighter. Mikoz fell asleep in Anya’s arms. Jarrek and Maeva talked quietly, giving them space.
“Thank you,” she said eventually. “For choosing me. For—for making this real.”
“It was always real,” he said. “But I’m glad we made it official.”
“Me too.” She smiled. “Though I’m going to have to explain to Anya that just because we got married doesn’t mean she gets to stop doing her lessons.”
He laughed, the sound surprising him. “She will argue.”
“She always does.” Her smile widened. “But she’ll do them anyway. She’s a good kid.”
“She is a good daughter,” he corrected. “Our daughter.”
Her eyes filled again. “Our daughter. Our son. Our baby.” She touched her belly. “Our family.”
“Our family,” he echoed, and wrapped his tail around her, holding her close.
Later, after Maeva and Jarrek had left, taking Anya and Mikoz with them, he stood with Corinne at the bow.
She leaned against the railing, looking out at the dark water, the reflected stars.
“I keep thinking this is a dream,” she said quietly. “That I’ll wake up and be back on that shuttle. Or back on Earth. Or?—”
“Or still alone,” he finished. “Still grieving. Still lost.”
“Yes.” She turned to him. “But then I look at you. At Anya. At Mikoz. And I know it’s real.”
“It is real,” he confirmed. “You are my wife. My mate. My?—”
“Your everything. You’ve said that before.” She smiled at him, her face soft and loving.
“I will keep saying it.” He pulled her close. “Until you believe it. Until?—”
“I believe it. I believe in you and I believe in us.”
She kissed him and as always, hunger flared between them. The kiss deepened as she melted against him and by the time he raised his head, they were both breathing heavily.
“Did Anya tell you about the other part of a wedding?” she asked breathlessly.
“What other part?”
“It’s called a honeymoon. It’s when we come together for the first time as husband and wife.”
She took a half-step back, but before he could protest, she slid her gown down over her shoulders, leaving her naked and glowing in the moonlight. His breath caught at her beauty. Her breasts were fuller, the gentle curve of her pregnancy already visible, and she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen.
“Let me love you, wife,” he growled.
“Always,” she answered, but when he went to scoop her up in his arms and carry her below deck, she shook her head. “No. Out here, under the stars.”
Yes. The idea of it sent a surge of possessiveness through him. Making her his, not just in the privacy of their home but here in the night, for the stars and the sea to witness.
