“Killing was too good for those bastards,” Russell growled, his cat showing in his eyes.
Naomi decided it was politic to remain quiet, rather than point out that only the leader had been killed, and the other men were imprisoned in the Sanctuary, living out the rest of their lives there with no hope of ever gaining freedom. Overall, though, she agreed with her father’s sentiment.
Janette’s gaze rested on Liam. “You are Naomi’s Chosen, and… fiance?” she asked, a tentative note in her voice, as if afraid of overstepping.
Liam smiled, reassuringly. He brought Naomi’s hand to his lips, placing a kiss on her knuckles. “Yes. It’s new. We would have gone to choose rings this evening, if not for someone,” and he nipped her fingers chidingly, “working herself into a state over the upcoming meeting with her long-lost parents.”
Naomi blushed, but Beth grinned. “He got you there, Sis.”
Janette’s expression held sympathy. “I was a nervous wreck the whole plane ride,” she confessed. “Your father had to keep reassuring me.”
“She was, and I did,” Russell confirmed.
“She called me ten times from the airplane,” Mark put in, looking pained. “Ten! And that’s not counting the bazillion texts.”
“At least I had work all day to keep me occupied,” Naomi said. “Poor Beth didn’t, though.”
“Oh, I occupied myself looking up Masters programs in the general area,” Beth assured her. “That took ages and ages, believe me. Even after finding the universities that are in reasonable distance, it’s not like I can just point and say, ‘I want that one.’ There’s all kinds of considerations.”
Liam chuckled, and leaned over to whisper, “I think your mom was leading up to talking weddings.”
“Oh.” Naomi blinked. “Oh!”
She peered at her mother, whose gaze held uncertainty mingled with hope.
“Honestly, we haven’t had time to discuss it,” Naomi said, glancing at Liam, whose arm came around her shoulder. She smiled, and moved her gaze back to Janette. “I’d just been told that I wasn’t ever going to be a Rogue, when he sprang the question on me.”
“Actually, I sprang it on her some days earlier,” Liam corrected, clearly making an effort not to smirk, and she rolled her eyes. “She just accepted, when Lady Flora told her she wouldn’t turn Rogue.”
Naomi turned her attention back to her parents. “Honestly, I’m still getting used to the idea of not turning bad. I’ve spent all my life worrying about it, and there’s like this… this big hole inside me, where that fear used to be, but now it’s not. It’s… disconcerting.”
“It took her weeks to accept that the shifters here could offer her friendship,” Liam confirmed. “She couldn’t understand how they could risk their safety by embracing her into the community.”
“I’ve gotten better,” Naomi defended.
Liam smiled, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Yes, you have.”
She looked at him, a little anxious. “I don’t want a big wedding,” she confessed. “I don’t think I could handle that.”
He smiled again, stroking her hair. “I know that already, Naomi. I never considered it for a minute. I thought a quiet ceremony, just our family and closest friends.”
Naomi considered that, then giggled. “You know we’d never get away without inviting the whole Kazakis tribe, et al.”
“True.” He paused, his gaze scanning each of them, considering. “I have an idea.”
Janette looked hopeful, Beth raised a brow, and Naomi held her breath. “What?”
His smile spread to a wide grin. “How’d you like to be a Christmas Eve bride?”
Christmas Eve
Butterflies turned somersaults in her tummy as Naomi stared at her reflection in the cheval mirror in the corner of her bedroom. She pressed one hand to her stomach, fighting back the panic that kept trying to take hold.
“You look beautiful,” Beth told her, brushing out her hair with long, soothing strokes. “Just take deep breaths, and think about how much you love Liam.”
Well, okay. She could do that. Turning this way and that before the mirror, she watched with pleasure at how the skirt swirled about her legs. Gold netting heavily embroidered with gold sequins overlay the gold velvet. Spaghetti straps held up the bodice, the velvet clinging to her breasts lovingly, leaving a deep V as it criss-crossed over her waist, the skirt flowing in loose folds to just below her knees. Her mom and grandmothers had tsk’d, wanting her to wear a traditional white wedding dress, but they’d understood when she told them she didn’t want a dress that she could only wear once in her life, but something she could wear going out with him on special occasions.
“This dress really is lovely,” she murmured.
