Page 372 of The Gods Order

A small smile tugs at his lips, and his thumb pauses beneath my ear.

“I didn’t take the time to stop and truly think about what was in store for us after. I focused on the task, the responsibilities, the realm as a whole. Not the little things.”

He glances toward the stars before looking back at me.

“This is what feels surreal. The hundreds of beautiful, peaceful, ordinary days strung together with the people I love. This is what I live for.”

Me too, my sweetling.

Riven chuckles quietly, still combing his fingers through my hair, and we each face him, knowing he’s about to break the loving moment with something maddening.

“You know what my favorite song is?” he asks.

I tilt my head and laugh low.

“You have thousands.”

“True, but I do have a favorite.”

My brow furrows as he closes his eyes for a moment, listening to the tune in his head.

“Your laugh when I tease and everyone else scowls. Your little hum when you’re reading and don’t realize you’re doing it.”

A grin pulls at my lips.

“The tiny sigh you make every night when you crawl between us in bed, and the way you whisper our names and say I love you when you think we’re asleep.”

I suck in a small rush of air. He opens one eye and grins.

“You snore a little too.”

My mouth gapes open.

“I do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

Everyone laughs, agreement clear in the smiles they’re trying to hide.

Riven’s softens.

“See?” He hums. “Every note you make finds a home in my heart. You are the song that I’ll always sing.”

A quiet laugh escapes me, and I wipe at the tears gathered along my lashes.

“I love you.”

Three simple words.

They’ve never felt big enough. Not for everything we carried. Everything we survived. Everything we’ve become. Every dream they’ve made come true.

The bond in my heart swells, and their souls wrap their love around mine. They don’t release their grips, and I savor the sensations as the porch swing rocks gently beneath us. The night air brushes against my skin.

Riven’s quiet humming drifts back through the silence.

Creed’s fingers continue to brush my pulse.

Amick’s hand holds mine, never letting me go.