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Married.
But not to Barrett King. To Misael Alviar.
Claudio kept his grip on my father as he glanced over at Nathaniel. “You really think I want this fucker as my in-law?”
Nathaniel smiled. “I don’t expect you’ll be having many Sunday brunches together. But I think he could be a valuable asset.”
I could see my father twitch, as if he wanted to protest but knew better than to actually do it.
A valuable asset. That was what Dad had tried to t
urn me into by marrying me off to Barrett. Apparently, now that the tables were turned, he didn’t like how that shoe fit at all.
Claudio considered that silently for a moment. Then he finally released Dad, stepping back but keeping his weapon raised. He glanced over at Misael, who stood silent beside me. “Is this what you want?”
Misael’s body jerked slightly. He still looked a little ashen from blood loss, and I had a feeling he might be as shell-shocked from the emotional whiplash of the evening as I was. Instead of answering his father, he turned to look at me, his dark eyes intense and earnest. His gaze flicked up to the two boys on my other side, and I could see an almost tortured expression cross his face.
“Can we have a moment?” I asked quickly, angling my head to catch Nathaniel’s gaze. “Will you watch my dad?”
He nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Of course.”
Not bothering to respond to the outraged sound my father made, I grabbed the boys who stood beside me and hustled them outside. Moving quickly, I pulled them toward the sitting room down the hall, wondering if Mom was asleep upstairs, still utterly clueless about what was happening in the rooms below her. She’d be in for an unpleasant as fuck shock tomorrow.
As soon as we stepped into the sitting room, I flicked on the light. None of us sat—I was so wired I could barely stand still—and Misael and I turned to each other and spoke at the same moment.
“You don’t have to do this,” we both said.
I blinked, staring at him in surprise as I heard my words echoed back to me.
“Do you… not want to?” I asked slowly.
He licked his lips, opening his mouth and closing it once before shaking his head and trying again.
“Coralee, if we got married, you would be in this life. Not just around it. A part of it. Forever. That’s how this shit works. Once you’re in, you don’t get out. Especially not if you’re bound by marriage. I can’t fuckin’ ask you to do that. And besides, what about the shit with my dad and my mom? She almost got killed because of him. I told you I won’t let that happen to you, and I meant it. I can’t—”
“Misael.” I held up a hand, viscerally aware of all three of the men around me, feeling the heat of Kace and Bishop’s bodies as they stood close to me on either side. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you not want to marry me?”
His expression shifted, and I swore I could see his heart in his eyes.
His soul.
Everything about him that made him sweet and funny and protective and dangerous. It was all laid bare in the beautiful brown depths of his irises.
“Cora, I’d fuckin’ marry you tomorrow if I could. I love you.”
Tension I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in my body since the fight with Luke Carmine’s men—hell, probably since long before that—melted from my muscles, leaving me feeling lighter and more free than I’d felt in a long time.
Staring into Misael’s eyes, I realized that I didn’t have a single doubt. Not one. Not about his feelings for me, or mine for him. Not about my willingness to join the life he was destined to lead, to be a part of it forever.
I’d had plenty of time to think about what becoming part of the Lost Boys’ world would mean.
And I wanted that.
I wanted to be part of a world where people fought fiercely, but they loved fiercely too. Where I could be the person I had slowly been discovering inside myself these past several months. Where I could be with the three men who’d claimed my soul.
My hands found Kace’s and Bishop’s, gripping them tight, and I turned to look at the two boys on either side of me. “Would you be okay with this? It wouldn’t mean I love either of you less. I wouldn’t want it to change anything between us.”
Bishop reached up to run a knuckle down my cheek, ignoring the dried blood and dirt smeared over the back of his hand. His hazel eyes were impossible to read as he stared down at me.
