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“Let it out. I got you.” Her arms wrap around me while the glow of candlelight bathes us in warmth. The four walls offer protection.
“He almost rejected me, Gabby. How do I forget that?”
“You don’t.” My eyes snap to hers through blurry ones. Her small fingers wipe under my eyes, her expression soft. “You fight and show him that a world without you in it, isn’t worth living. You forgive because life is short, and being happy is better than being miserable. And lastly, you’ll kick his huge arse when he forgets those two things.”
I snort at the last one. “Really? Arse?”
“He’s British.” She shrugs. “It’s fitting.”
“True.” For a beat we’re quiet, but I’m the first to break the silence. “The accent is sexy. Especially in that deep baritone of his.”
“Don’t tell Theo, but I agree. Although, Italians give them a run for their money.”
“So true.”
Then we’re laughing and Gods, I needed that. I’m giggling while she tries to fight it back, but when one stops, the other begins, and it’s a vicious cycle.
My stomach hurts by the end, and she’s wiping her eyes. We’re loud, I know, and it takes a knock on the door for us to stop. We should feel contrite, but don’t. Especially with how light the room feels now. As if cleansed. Our parents are happy, too.
Their small lingering essences almost smile.
Another knock, a bit impatient now, and we stand up from the floor, dusting ourselves off.
Two scents await us. Two grumbly kings.
“Te amo. Invenire in pace.” Gabriella and I say in unison, touching our lips to the stone before walking toward the entrance hand in hand. She opens the door and steps outside first, greeting her mate who’s quick to pick her up and leave.
Xadiel is also there, and he’s looking at me with worried eyes, taking me in from head to toe. “Are you okay, Isabella? I felt the rapid shifts in your emotions and ran over.”
Nothing he could’ve said would be more perfect than that right now. In a moment where I felt alone and unseen, he came because I was sad. Because he’s worried.
That’s caring. That’s being a good mate.
It’s why I don’t think, and with a hand on his shirt, I pull him down to my level and press my lips to his. The kiss is short and sweet and a promise.
I will fight and forgive and love him.
We will all be okay. I’m starting to truly believe that.
21
XADIEL
I’ve been away from my lands for a few days now while my female visited with her family and friends. I’ve let my father handle the pack duties and pushed aside meeting with other leaders while I stood beside her as she wept and celebrated. I watched as she and her siblings laid her parents to rest in a beautiful ceremony that gave me a peek into who they are as a people.
They’re not much different than wolves.
We love and bleed the same. We mourn and cry and lose a part of ourselves when someone we care about passes on to the next life.
Life is an individual journey with no regard for emotions or attachments; our expiration is inevitable. Our purposes are different. But that doesn’t mean we don’t touch the lives of many during our time here, and that comes with a price.
Love is pain; a beautiful destruction worth every moment of anguish when it’s lost.
I felt humbled in their presence. My guards did too.
We were embarrassed by how we’ve viewed and treated witches in the past.
But never again. My allegiance to them is cemented in stone, written in the book of life and signed by my blood. Isabella is mine, and that includes every part of her: physically, family, and responsibilities—her people. They all have my protection and that of the werewolves until the end of time.
