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“No pressure,” he said in a voice for my own ears only. “I love you, Ridley Crawford. I could give a fuck if you’re a syndicate princess. I’m not part of that world anyway.”
And that’s when I knew what to do.
My heart ached and my throat was sore because my love needed to be expressed.
I wasn’t sure I knew how to be Zaq’s lover, let alone his mate.
But he wanted me, and I was going to do my damnedest to deserve him.
So I just said it. Not giving myself time to overthink it.
I put my hands on either side of his face. “I love you. And I want more than anything in the world to be your mate.”
He blinked, and I realized I was scowling. I shook my head at myself, relaxed my frown.
“I love you,” I repeated, and added, “That’s a promise. And you know I keep my promises.”
A smile germinated in his eyes, spread to his face. A slow, heart-rending smile like an angel might give you if he was in love with you.
And yeah, I knew I was the luckiest woman on the planet.
He slipped his hands under my forearms and past my wrists so his arms twined through mine and held my face, too. “Love you, too, beautiful. So fucking much.”
I gave him a wobbly smile, and in that instant, the bond between us came fully to life. I felt Zaq’s love, intense, true. It didn’t erase the pain of my mom’s death, but his love did ease the hurt, like the bright colors of spring after a long winter.
De Froulay cleared his throat, and we released each other and faced him.
Gabriel smirked at his brother and Zaquiel grinned back.
“You’ll do it, then,” de Froulay said.
I gave a small nod. “I’ll play Princess Renata, but only if you keep it on a need-to-know basis. Renata’s going to be a princess like Zaq’s a prince. You can tell your allies and your top people about me—enough to make it convincing to SI—but don’t expect me to live in Paris or attend Paris Syndicate events.”
“You can say you did it to protect her,” Gabriel inserted. To me, he said, “And maybe you could attend a Paris party now and then. To make it convincing.”
De Froulay looked like he wanted to argue further but he looked from Zaq to me and nodded. “Very well. A few parties a year.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.” Gabriel was right; if I wanted people to believe I was a Leo’s daughter and a syndicate princess, I’d have to show up in Paris, at least occasionally. Even if I’d rather stab a fork into my thigh than make nice with a roomful of syndicate vampires.
“Let’s go home,” Zaq said.
I gave him an uncomprehending look. Home? I hadn’t called any place home for so long.
“My place in New York,” he corrected. To de Froulay, he said, “We’ll be in touch, but for now, Ridley needs to rest and recover.”
De Froulay nodded, and Zaq took my hand. “Ready?”
Gabriel was already at the door, holding it open for us.
Aubin hovered beyond him. His gaze swept the room, taking in Moreau’s ashes. His Vincent-Price sangfroid didn’t waver. “I’ll get someone to clean that up.”
I slanted a look at Zaq. “Home.” I tested the word out, absorbed in the wonder of what he was offering me.
I liked saying it.
No, I fucking loved it.
But first, I turned to Leo de Froulay. “We’d be honored if you came to our mate ritual.” I halted, then added, “Father.”
