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“What’s that?” I trailed my fingers through her hair and over her bare back.
“You talk about free will like it’s something only humans have, but I know you have your own thoughts and feelings. No one controlled your actions when you and Nate both decided to choose me and Sierra over the law.”
“Free will is different for us than it is for you.” My fingers stilled on their path through her hair. “Imagine all the choices in the world are a house, and in that house is a bed that represents living a life for God. A human is told they will be more satisfied and happier if they stay on the bed but is given free rein of the house—you’re allowed to leave the bed, and you’re always welcome back. An angel is told to stay on the bed, and while we can physically get up and wander the house, it’s only a matter of time—maybe a step, maybe the length of a room—before we’re dragged back to the bed and chained there. Or locked out of the room entirely with no way back to the bed.”
“That’s…” She trailed off as if she couldn’t find the words she wanted to say.
“It sounds harsh, but we were made for different purposes.”
“It still doesn’t seem fair.”
“Hasn’t anyone told you life isn’t fair?” I asked dryly.
She swatted at my chest. “I’m being serious.”
I sat up, taking her with me. “So am I. We were all created with a purpose. And being who we are without apology, who we were created to be, that’s the secret to freedom, to contentment.”
“Are you content?” she asked, her big turquoise eyes boring into mine.
“I am now. I’m doing what I was created to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“Work for the secret order, adopt children who are on a path to destruction, and love the mate Father wants me to love.”
* * *
Despite the audiencefor our poker game in Youngblood’s back rooms, word of our engagement didn’t spread quickly. Weeks slipped by while we gave Siren’s family a chance to get used to the idea of us as an official couple and took our time mourning Joriel.
Nathaniel and Sierra stayed in Boston for the week after the Castle Island fight, and we spent the following Saturday having a twisted version of a memorial service. Micah and Danielle met the rest of us on Castle Island, where we drank insane amounts of alcohol and leaned on each other. It was a strange event. Joriel wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t at peace. He was in Hell, and we all knew it.
The next day, everyone who didn’t live in the city returned home, and things mostly went back to normal. With every day that passed, it got a little easier to breathe, a little easier to get up in the morning. I learned to deal with the guilt that I got to live a life full of joys while he was gone.
“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” Siren asked.
We were in her bedroom at her parents’ house. She was working on a project for one of her classes, and I was stretched out on her bed, resisting the urge to spend the whole morning distracting her.
“I usually shut down La Bella Notte to the public, and we all have a big dinner there. Some of my employees have family who come too. Why? What did you want to do this year?”
She spun her desk chair around to face me. “I don’t know. I want to do something with my family, but I’d also like to come to your Thanksgiving.”
“Let’s talk to Nacio about it. I’m sure we can work something out.” I’d move Youngblood Thanksgiving to a different day if that’s what would make her happy. “Are you done with your schoolwork?”
She nodded. “For now.”
“Good. Then get your sexy ass over here.”
She rolled her eyes at me, but she joined me on the bed without argument. She leaned in to kiss me, but I leaned back.
“Wait.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, a concerned frown furrowing her brow.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just want to talk to you about something.”
“Okay…”
“I think we should tell your family we’re getting married. Tonight.” I took her left hand in mine. “That way you can start wearing this.” I pulled the jewelry box from my pocket with my free hand.
