The realization should have scared him. Instead, it felt like setting down a weight he’d been carrying for far too long.
After dinner, the protesting children were herded off to bed with Precious trotting after them, and the adults settled in Athtar’s sitting room with drinks and the comfortable silence of good company. Faith curled against Athtar’s side on one of the massive couches, while Emma sat across from them with Ari drowsing in her arms.
He stood by the open window, letting the ocean breeze cool his skin while he pretended not to watch Emma’s reflection in the glass.
“She’s asleep,” she said softly, looking down at Ari. “I should put her down.”
“I put a crib in the connecting room,” Faith said. “It’s a little battered after three children but it’s solid.”
“Thank you. For everything. I can’t tell you how much it means to be here. To have...” She trailed off, swallowing hard.
“To have another human around?” Faith’s smile was understanding. “I understand. There’s something about knowing you’re not alone that makes everything else more bearable.”
Emma nodded, blinking rapidly. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream. That I’ll be back in my classroom, preparing lessons for first-graders, and worrying about parent-teacher conferences and whether I remembered to buy milk.”
“Do you miss it? Your old life?”
“Parts of it. My students. My routine. The certainty of knowing what each day would bring.” She looked down at Ari’s sleeping face. “But I think... I think maybe I was using that certainty as a shield. Keeping everything small and manageable so I wouldn’t have to risk anything.”
“And now?”
Emma lifted her gaze, and he knew she wasn’t looking at Faith anymore. She was looking at him.
“Now I’m starting to think that maybe safety isn’t worth as much as I thought it was.”
The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken tension. Athtar cleared his throat loudly.
“Right. Faith, we need to check on the children.”
“We do?” Faith caught sight of her mate’s pointed expression. “Oh. Yes. The children. Definitely need to check on them. All three of them. Thoroughly.”
She untangled herself from Athtar’s side and crossed to Emma, gently taking Ari from her arms. “I’ll put her down in the nursery. You two... take your time.”
Athtar followed his mate out of the room, pausing at the door to give him a look that somehow managed to convey amusement,encouragement, and threat all at once.Don’t fuck this up,that look said.
Then they were gone, and he was alone with Emma.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Emma rose to her feet, smoothing her hands down her thighs in a nervous gesture that made Doren’s chest ache with tenderness. “They’re not subtle, are they?”
“Athtar doesn’t know the meaning of the word.” He pushed away from the window, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. “Emma...”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand, stopping him before he could reach her. “Don’t tell me we should wait. Don’t give me another noble speech about how you want me to be certain.” Her chin lifted, her brown eyes fierce in the lamplight. “I’ve been certain since the second day on that ship. I’ve been certain through every kiss you gave me and every time you pulled away. I’m so certain it’s driving me insane.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Then what?”
He closed the remaining distance between them, reaching up to cup her face in his hands. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his palms, her pulse fluttering wildly against his fingertips.
“I was going to say that I’ve been a fool,” he murmured. “That I’ve spent my whole life chasing something that I thought would prove my worth, when what I actually wanted was standing right in front of me. That I’m terrified of what you make me feel, but I’m even more terrified of losing you.”
Her breath caught. “Doren...”
“Let me finish.” He stroked his thumbs across her cheekbones, marveling at the delicacy of her features. “You deserve better than me. Someone without baggage, without enemies, and without a lifetime of bad decisions trailing behind him. Someone who can offer you stability and safety and all the things I don’t know how to give.”
“I don’t want someone safe.” Her hands came up to grip his wrists, holding him in place. “I had safe. Safe was teaching the same lessons year after year and going home to an empty house and telling myself I was content. Safe was watching other people fall in love and pretending I didn’t want that for myself.” Her voice broke on the last word. “I want you. Baggage and enemies and bad decisions and all.”
