8. Emrie

Iwoke up in an unfamiliar bed to my phone buzzing. I slapped the nightstand until I found it, only to have it stop buzzing the moment my hand touched it. I sighed in relief and tried to go back to sleep.

My phone started buzzing again.

I groaned and cracked an eye open to grab it.

"Hello," I said, my voice gravely from sleep.

"Hello."

I smiled. Roarke.

Wait.

I sat up so quickly my head swam.

Roarke!

"Umm, hi, how are you?" I clenched the comforter in my other hand, and tried like crazy to make my brain compute like a fully functioning and alert brain. But I'd stayed up late with the guys, and my brain was giving me error messages and sleepy smiley face emojis.

Great, brain. Way to help a girl out.

"I'm fluctuating between insanely and incurably happy and regretting all of my life choices."

The first thing sounded amazing, but the second made me wince.

"Because of me?" I dared to ask.

"The first, yes, the second—no." He sighed. "I'm going to petition your alpha to move into the Clan lodge later today."

I blinked owlishly, certain my brain was still not processing correctly. "You're what?"

"Yep, just consider me one of the bears."

His laughter sounded dark, and I winced again. He was moving in because of the danger to me, and the mysterious person or persons who'd stolen my locket.

"I'm sorry," I said in a small voice.

He sighed. "Please don't apologize. I'm just mostly complaining because I have to room with people again. The last time I had a roommate was several hundred years ago. I like my privacy." He sighed again. "I'm flubbing this up, aren't I?"

"Well, you're certainly making a go of it," I said, teasing him.

He groaned. "I'm sorry. You know I'd do anything for you. It's just that people give me hives."

I laughed. "They give me hives too, but these bears are good people. They're one of the few that I actually don't mind being around."

"Even Taco?"

"Even Taco. He makes me laugh."

I smiled, remembering Taco's efforts to make me laugh last night. He'd succeeded a time or two.

"You know, you don't have to come," I said. "My Clan will protect me, and I'm pretty good at protecting myself."

"You going to go all Kung Fu Panda on them?" he asked with a laugh.

"I really could. Except Po was totally awesome and I'm just kinda awesome."

"I disagree," he said in a voice that made me practically fan myself.

Whew! Was it hot in here?

"Anyway," he changed the subject. "I realized that before I can move in with the bear Clan, like some kind of Three's Company except with a million bears—and yes, I know I'm dating myself with that reference—I need to invite you over first for our movie night. Except, it will have to be movie day, and can you please come over today instead of Thursday?"

"Because you promised me I could see your house?"

"Yes. And I always try to keep my promises. But I warn you. At least one of my hoards might try to bite you."

I laughed. "Noted."

Following my GPS,I made my way to Roarke's street, and his elaborate gated entrance, which looked like it should be protected by a retinal scan instead of an easily sussed four digit code. I put in the code, then watched in a little bit of awe as the gates swung open for me. I drove through, and then gaped as I drove up the long street to Roarke's house.

There were woods to either side of the driveway, but they didn't look dark and gloomy, even in winter. They looked pristine and well cared for. There were even lamp posts with old-fashioned electric lanterns set along the driveway. They weren't lit now, but I imagined they were beautiful during the evening and nighttime hours.

The driveway ended in a large courtyard-style parking area set in front of a huge, rambling farmhouse-style house. I parked next to a brown marble fountain that dominated the courtyard, and gaped some more when I noticed that the fountain was of a mama bear and her cubs.

I blinked back tears and continued to stare at it, my heart in my throat, until a rooster landed on my SUV's hood, looked through the windshield at me with its beady little eyes, and then crowed loudly enough to wake the dead.

I thought about using the horn to give it the scare of its life, but decided against it. This must be part of Roarke's hoard. At least part of the hoard that he said might bite me.

I reached into my back seat and scrounged around for my thick leather gloves. They were great for when I didn't want to rip up my hands and I needed to do some heavy lifting. They came past my wrists and hit mid-forearm.

I put the gloves on, then grabbed my backpack purse, which I never went anywhere without. It was big enough to stash all of the junk I needed day-to-day, but didn't have those long useless straps that I hated. Who wanted a purse that basically fell to their knees? Giants? I'd never actually seen a giant who carried a purse, but I supposed it was possible.

I stepped out of my SUV to face the rooster, and I could practically hear the soundtrack that always played on movies when the two characters were going to have a shootout at high noon.

"Go ahead, punk. Make my day." Yes, I said it like Clint Eastwood. I couldn't help myself.

The rooster squawked loudly, ruffled his feathers so they puffed out and made him look bigger, and attacked, but I was ready for him. I grabbed his beefy body—seriously, what was Roarke feeding him?—and held him close to my body to incapacitate him, while also using my other gloved hand to hold his beak closed. I glared him into stillness.

"I'm a bear, you idiot. I could eat you with one bite. Not a smart move, my friend."

Roarke suddenly jerked the front door open and ran to help me, cursing up a storm, and cursing out Crew the rooster.

He took him from me. I hardly noticed because Roarke was in athletic shorts and nothing else, and his body was covered in soap suds.

I blinked. Then blinked again.

Roarke was saying words, but it sounded like wha wha wha, and wha wha wha. Like the teacher in the Charlie Brown movies.

I was just taking off one of my leather gloves, fully intending to touch the masterpiece that was his sudsy chest, when he walked away, still cursing out the rooster as he headed around the side of his house, to, I assume, put the bird away.

My blinking had stopped, but now...I put my ungloved hand up to my cheek. I think I had a fever. And yes, the Peggy Lee song Fever started playing in my head just then. My brain was a weird and wondrous thing.

I fanned myself with my glove. This late January sun was unseasonably warm this year. The weather wizards should get right on that.

Roarke came back sans rooster and led me into his house. I closed my eyes and drew in the amazing doughy-flavored air, tinged with the scent of jalapenos and cheese, then I opened my eyes and grinned.

"You made pretzels and cheese!"

Roarke laughed. "Of course I did." He shook his head, like he was maybe wondering why I'd ever doubted him. "Go ahead and have a seat. I just need to finish my quick shower and get dressed." Then he gave me a quelling look. "Don't wander just yet. A dragon's hoards are deeply personal. I want to show them to you myself."

I looked at his couch and laughed at the sheer number of decorative and non-decorative pillows there. There were dozens, just on his couch and chairs alone. "Well, I'm sorry to tell you this, big guy, but I think I already figured two of your hoards out."

He put his hands on his hips and frowned, which, incidentally, drew attention to his chest again, and the muscles upon muscles there. I wanted to reprimand myself. Seriously. I hated it when guys objectified girls. But this wasn't any guy, and I wasn't any girl. This was Roarke. And if my hazy dreamlike memories of yesterday weren't failing me—this was my mate.

So, did I enjoy the view as he walked away muttering under his breath about sneaky females coming over early?

Yes. Yes I did.

And I didn't feel guilty about it one bit.

As a matter of fact, I was kinda proud of myself.

I sat on the couch, utilizing a few of his beautiful, very fluffy pillows, and laid my head agains the backrest and closed my eyes. I was still tired from my late night, and I'd already resigned myself to getting absolutely zero work done today. I had to finish Roarke's ocean table before I could start on Mia and King Draven's library, and I wanted to start soon, so I was itching to finish the table as soon as possible. I'd already let the Pirate's Chest know that I wasn't taking any new orders for a while.

Fortunately, I had some pieces I'd been holding back to give them over the next several months to sell, so they'd continue to have something from me. It wasn't like I was just dropping them cold, but I still felt a little guilty.

I sighed. Sometimes I hated that I was a being who felt things deeply all the time. It could be incredibly inconvenient.

I sniffed again, smelling something other than doughy goodness this time. I think it was cookies? Chocolate chip cookies if I wasn't mistaken. Yum.

I wondered what movie we were going to watch, and I was wildly curious about the rest of his hoards.

Roarke walked back into the room, and it was like the temperature warmed by a good ten degrees.

Dragons were excellent space and body warmers.

Roarke's azure eyes gazed at me, and I could read humor in them. "So, you met my rooster. Wanna meet the rest of the gang?"

I held out my hand and he unglued me from his sofa with a warm hand up, and then he just refused to let go. I wasn't all that broken up about it, let me tell you.

In fact, I felt kind of like a giddy teenager who was holding hands with their crush for the first time. Sadly, this was not far off the mark. I'd never held hands before. It was warm and comforting, but also made my heart race because he was so close, and he was touching me. Basically, my mental and emotional landscape was all over the place and I was unashamed of this fact. I was still a little hesitant, in spite of my enthusiasm. This all just seemed too good to be true. But, even if it turned out to be some cosmic joke of epic proportions, I was going to ride this ride until the amusement park shut down and went out of business. I would not pass up this opportunity to be closer to Roarke. Not even for my own insecurities and the near certain feeling that this was all a mistake. That Roarke would never be mine.

Roarke pulled me through the living room and a mudroom that was super-orderly and neat, and then out a side door. I could see a barn in the distance, and multiple pens that held goats, chickens, horses, and cattle in them.

Oh my gosh! He had a whole farm!

I started humming The Farmer in the Dell song mentally, but substituting Roarke's name for the Farmer.

Yes, my brain is awesome. Moving on.

"You're singing the Farmer in the Dell song in your head aren't you?" Roarke said with a laugh.

"It's scary that we seem to share a brain sometimes," I replied.

He laughed again and shook his head.

We greeted the goats and the cows, and then he formally introduced me to the terror that squawks in the night—Crew the rooster.

"He's a big chicken," Roarke assured me.

"Very droll."

He grinned. "No, really, he is. He's like that one animated chicken that constantly thinks the sky is falling."

"Is that why he attacked me and my SUV today?"

Roarke shook his head. "I honestly have no idea what that was. I didn't know he had it in him." He seemed almost impressed that his rooster had the gumption to attack me.

"Glad I could boost his confidence."

He laughed and tugged my hand toward the horses. They were both grazing. It looked like Roarke went out earlier in dragon form and melted the snow and ice a little, because there was a huge patch of brown grass without snow that the horses were munching on. But when Roarke came to stand at the fence, they both immediately nickered in greeting and made their way over to us. Roarke pointed at a dapple grey. "This guy here is Dimitri. He's a good boy. And this little lady is Tabitha." He rubbed her forehead affectionately.

I watched him with his horses with a little smile on my face. Roarke was in his element here. And, dare I say it? He seemed happy and content.

Then my smile fell.

I couldn't take him away from his home and his animals to a place where he would be living with several other bears and no hoard animals or pillows! That seemed cruel to me.

His gaze immediately found my frown and he frowned in response. "What's wrong? Is it the horses?"

I shook my head. "It's not the horses. I just realized I can't take you away from here. You're really happy here, Roarke. I don't see you this content very often."

I hesitantly reached out when Tabitha nuzzled my chin and lipped my hair, which I had left down today, rather than putting it up in a messy bun.

I laughed and pushed her away a little so I could stroke her forehead like Roarke was doing with Dimitri. Dimitri's eyes were closed, and he looked like he was blissed out.

"You're not taking me away. I'm going voluntarily, and I'm really pretty much demanding to go."

"But what about your animals? Who will feed them and care for them while you're gone?"

He shrugged. "I have a few people I can call to take care of them for me, or, if Riggs is feeling particularly generous, maybe I can talk him into letting me take them with me."

I blinked. "We don't have pens and a barn for them," I protested.

"You guys have a few outbuildings that I think we could convert, and putting up a few pens would be the work of a few days if all of us pitched in."

I nodded, continuing to stroke Tabitha's forehead and mane. I made a mental note to ask my alpha if he would grant Roarke this favor, and hoped like crazy the animals wouldn't be afraid of Riggs. They'd gotten used to Roarke, so I was hopeful.

He put the horses in the barn with some grain and a topped up water trough, and made sure the rest of the animals were also in for the day before we made our way back to the house and his huge sunken living room and massive TV. I swear, the thing nearly took up an entire wall. I mean, I was exaggerating, but not much. It was huge.

Not for the first time, it occurred to me that Roarke was insanely wealthy. It just didn't occur to me often because he didn't flaunt it. He lived comfortably but not extravagantly. But, yeah, apparently my mate was insanely rich. His wealth didn't bother me. Roarke was a very grounded person. His money just made his life easier; it didn't make his life.

After making sure I was comfy on the couch, Roarke went into the kitchen and brought out a tray of doughy pretzels, warm bowls of jalapeno cheddar cheese, cooled-down chocolate chip cookies—I was weird and didn't like them warm—and bottles of ice cold water. He set it all on the coffee table in front of us, then he pulled up his streaming account.

"What are we watching?"

I grabbed a few more pillows and used them to pad the couch behind me until I felt like I was resting back against a cloud. "I'm in the mood for a comedy, and I have a movie idea, but you're going to hate it."

He turned to me with an eyebrow raised, his finger poised over the remote, just waiting for me to tell him which title to go to. And I paused a moment to appreciate him. We went back and forth picking movies. This week happened to be my pick. But Roarke, even though he didn't often like my picks, was unfailingly patient with me. He hardly ever complained, and if he did, it was super mild and always in a lightly teasing way.

"I appreciate you," I told him randomly.

He blinked, and then slowly smiled a very small and crooked smile. "I appreciate you too, mo chroì."

"I think I need to learn Irish Gaelic."

He laughed. "Not unless you want to know all of my curse words."

"Not really, no. What does mo chroì mean?"

His eyes turned warm and there was so much emotion in them that I had to catch my breath. "It means my heart."

"Oh," was my pithy response. Seriously, I was killing it with the romance over here. Everyone else should take romance lessons from me.

"Still feel like it's not real?" he asked, somehow sussing out my hesitancy.

"Yeah."

He nodded. "Don't worry. It'll settle." He didn't look stressed or worried about my lack of response at all, which made me feel like I could take a breather. I did not know how this man always knew how to handle me and my mental and emotional strangeness but he always seemed to. I'd always felt really blessed to have him as a best friend. But to potentially have him as a mate? For the rest of my life? Utter bliss. I felt myself daring to hope for the first time since the mate reveal.

I cleared my throat gently. "Umm, I was thinking we could watch Rocketman, the old Disney movie. It's a comedy, and I used to love it, but it's goofy funny and I know that's not your favorite."

He didn't respond to my long ramblyness; he just pulled up the movie on his streaming device, paid for it, and settled in next to me to watch.

My attention was on the movie, but it was also on Roarke. After the opening credits, he'd moved to sit closer to me, handing me a plate with a small bowl of cheese sauce and a doughy, warm pretzel.

"You're not going to eat right now?"

He shook his head. "I made it for you. I'm not a fan of pretzels."

I gaped at him. "I don't think we can be friends anymore."

"You would ditch me over pretzels?"

"Yes."

He laughed and shook his head, then sneakily put his arm around my shoulders in such a smooth move that I almost admired his skill and complete nonchalance.

"Are you cuddling with me right now?" I asked, just to clarify the situation.

"One hundred percent yes."

"Got it."

I took another bite of my pretzel. Roarke was cuddling with me and I was eating a pretzel as if my life would end if I didn't finish it. Was I nervous? Yes, yes I was. But I womaned up—or in my case bear shiftered up—and set my plate down, then I very hesitantly shifted my hand over a tiny bit, and Roarke thankfully did the rest. His free hand found my hand, and he laced our fingers together. And when I say that I stared at our hands laced together for a long five minutes, I actually mean maybe ten, and the whole while my brain was just giving me static, like I had it tuned to the wrong channel.

And no emojis popped into my brain to save me. Perhaps there wasn't an emoji for my best friend, whom I adore, is now possibly my mate, and is holding my hand! Like, serious hand-holding happening here!

And then the thought came: why did no one, not even my sixth-grade bear shifter homeschool teacher, who was forced to show our class what was practically a nature documentary about the birds and the bees, ever tell me about the dangers to my health that handholding could be? You'd think this would garner even a casual mention. But nope, it had not. My brain was still giving me static, and I could not for the life of me focus on the movie that Roarke was chuckling at. I preened a little because I'd made him laugh, though. If only vicariously through my movie recommendation.

Emrie, you are a strange, strange individual. There should be a neurosis named after me.

Oh, you have Emrie? I'm so sorry to hear that. I'll pray they find a cure soon.

Roarke leaned closer and whispered in my ear, "Stop obsessing. Just breathe."

I drew in a deep breath, and realized I was feeling a bit lightheaded. Had I not been breathing?

Thirty minutes into the movie, I started to relax. My brain had gotten over its initial freakout and was now in chillax mode. Thankfully, Roarke's massive shoulders accommodated this new Emrie mode and I rested my head on the shoulder nearest me as I grew sleepy. Roarke was still holding my hand, but now he was stroking it, like I was a wild animal that needed soothing.

I laughed and closed my eyes.

He always seemed to get me. It was wonderful having at least one person in the world that you knew, without any doubts, just got you. That understood you on a level that sometimes even surpassed what you understood about yourself. Which, he was a dragon, so yes he did understand me on a level I didn't even know about myself. It was just dragon nature, and on top of that, he'd done that freaky soul read thing on me enough times to really get an in-depth character reference.

Who needed resumes anymore? Just ask a dragon to read your job applicants.

My sleepy eyes popped open. Seriously, why was this not being done already?

"Not enough dragons in the world, love," Roarke said.

"Seriously, can you read my mind? Just tell me now, and I promise I won't freak out." I was a lying liar pants on fire. I would totally freak out.

He chuckled quietly. "Your emotions are amazingly concise. Sometimes I can tell where your mind has gone just from the mix of your emotions. And, yes, sometimes I get flashes of your thoughts. It's because I'm old."

"So, wait." I sat up. "Older dragons can become telepaths?"

He protested my moving away by tugging me closer again to the furnace that was his body. "No. Every dragon when they age has other gifts or abilities. It just comes with age. We pick up things. I haven't heard of another with telepathic abilities, even one as weak as my ability. The better I know the person, the clearer their thoughts are to me. But if I don't know the person, their thoughts are just static."

I groaned. "Wonderful. Just wonderful. My mate can read my thoughts. Oh, and he can also decipher my emotions as well, because lets just add that in for kicks and giggles and total and complete embarrassment."

Roarke chuckled.

"So you knew, like, this whole time that I've had a crush on you?" I prayed fervently for the sudden ability to melt into the floorboards, or float away on the breeze. And also, I was moving to Antarctica. I knew it was cliché to want to move there when your life was over and you could no longer show your face to society at large, but it didn't matter. I would embrace that cliché like nobody's business. I would probably like the cold, being a bear shifter and all, so I didn't need to worry.

"Yes. About as long as I've had a crush on you," Roarke answered.

"Wait—what now?"

He leaned in closer, until I could feel his breath fanning my face. "I'm surprised you never realized," he said in a gravelly tone. "I'm crazy about you, Emrie. Did you not see the fountain?"

I blinked back tears again, even as my insides were hopping around like all of my organs were attached to a pogo stick, which was apparently my go-to reaction whenever Roarke's voice lowered into that vocal register. "I forgot to tell you," I whispered emotionally. "I love the fountain. It's so beautiful."

"I had it commissioned. I wanted you to be near me."

"And the cubs with me?"

He shrugged. "I figured, whoever you ended up with as your mate, at least you and your children could be close." Then he grinned a very feral grin. "Now, of course, I'm going to have a dragon commissioned, and have him placed behind the bears, with his wings outstretched, protecting them."

"Oh, Roarke." I hid my face in his chest, my emotions kind of overcoming me for a moment, and then I laughed. "You looked feral when you said that."

He kissed the top of my head. "It gives me an insane amount of satisfaction. And also, I don't have to eat your mate. So that's a plus."

I laughed, and then realized the end credits were rolling on the movie. "So much for the movie."

"I watched part of it. I'll try again later, maybe when I'm less distracted."

"When you're less distracted? I thought I was the only one that was distracted?"

"Are you kidding? Your thoughts are like candy to this dragon. I love the way your brain works, and I love your sense of humor, even directed at yourself, because while you're feisty with yourself, you're never self-degrading, and I appreciate that. You don't know how rare it is to be able to laugh at yourself, but not hate yourself."

I groaned and hid my head in his chest again. This whole reading my thoughts thing was going to take some adjustment.

He kissed the top of my head again, and tried to reassure me. "I promise I'll try not to pry into your thoughts. Sometimes they're just super loud, mostly when you're feeling strongly about something."

Great. Just great. Trying not to have big emotions was akin to asking me to stop breathing. Successful for really short durations, but not pragmatic for any longer length of time.

I was doomed.

Roarke laughed, and squeezed me in a hug. Ironically, it was strong enough to be a bear hug, but gentle enough to be a Roarke hug. I breathed in a steadying breath. Okay. I was okay. This stuff was not life-ending. It was just danged inconvenient.

"Okay, big guy. How about you show me your other hoards. I'm dying of curiosity."

He helped me up from his body-sucking sofa and gave me a tour of his house. I oohed and aahed over his kitchen and dining room. The kitchen had every doodad and kitchen device known to mankind in it. I expressed appropriate appreciation for his huge fridge and amazing oven.

I loved his choice of colors. My favorite colors were blue and green, and it looked like he'd decorated his house with those colors in mind. Which made me think maybe they were his favorite colors as well? How did I not know my best friend's favorite colors? I felt like this was an epic best friend fail. I mean, it wasn't the meaning of life or the universe or anything, but it was a basic piece of knowledge that I lacked, and I felt like it was somehow mocking me now.

He laughed. "I like blue and green, Emrie, just the same as you. I also love silver, opal, and copper, so you'll see accents of that everywhere as well."

My body sighed. I hadn't realized it was seizing up in protest on me until he answered my internal freak-out.

Words, Emrie. Use your words.

I had to remind myself of this often. My body would just do its stress or anxiety thing, and before I even knew it, I was having a panic attack. I knew if I could just figure out a way to talk things out before it got to that point, I could avoid—or at least cut down—my panic attacks.

"We'll work on it," Roarke assured me. "In a way, it's good then that I can hear your thoughts sometimes. It might help you talk things through, and it might help to reduce your panic attacks."

I sighed in relief. An upside. He'd found an upside.

I stepped into his bedroom. The walls were a pretty blue-grey color. His bed sat on a a massive rug that looked very soft, but the rest of the floor was hardwood. A sliding door led out to a balcony that wrapped around to the front of the house, and on his balcony sat a jacuzzi tub.

"That must be nice to have during the winter," I said.

He shrugged. "It's a saltwater jacuzzi. It helps my skin and scales to feel healthy. You bears have one. I've seen it as I've gone to the main lodge. You have a pool as well." He looked inquiringly at me. "Do you use the pool often?"

"All the time."

He nodded, looking thoughtful. We made our way to the back of the house, and another room. He opened it, and I gaped as I stared around me. The whole room was filled with canvases of different sizes, and most of them were filled with the most beautiful paintings I'd ever seen.

"Oh my gosh, Roarke! How could you not tell me you were an amazing artist?" I moved to a pile of canvases that were snugged in with each other and fanned through them, amazed at the landscapes, cottages, seascapes, and beautiful paintings of famous places I was seeing.

"Holy honey I want them all!" I said, probably with a gleaming look of avarice in my eyes. "Roarke, why do you not sell these? You could make mint!"

He shrugged. "I don't need the money. I occasionally give them out for Christmas, birthday, or wedding gifts. In fact, I'm making one right now for Draven and Mia."

I turned to him. "Are you opposed to using them in your house, or in my house for that matter?" Because I needed this one of the Scottish Highlands covered in heather, and there were a few of Italy that were absolutely gorgeous. His work reminded me very much of Thomas Kincaide, the Painter of Light. Roarke used a similar style, and his paintings were so full of light and joy that it practically radiated off the canvas.

"I'm not opposed, no. They're one of my hoards, but I also just love to paint. I'd be happy if you took some home."

I nodded, setting a few aside. I didn't want to be greedy, so I reluctantly left a few that I really liked in favor of the ones that I couldn't live without. "Are these all painted from memory?"

"Yes."

I whistled. "And to think. I've never even been outside of Moonhaven. I feel suddenly lacking in culture compared to you."

Roarke hugged me from behind, and I felt his silent steady reassurance that he liked me just the way I was.

The mate thing was messing with my head. When Roarke was just my best friend, I'd never felt inadequate in our relationship, but now suddenly with the mate thing I was feeling all kinds of inadequate, and I was not a fan.

Roarke hummed and I felt an instant release of tension. Dragon hums were powerful anti-depressant and anti-anxiety tools. They induced instant relaxation into whoever was in their proximity. They could, and had in the past, literally make a battlefield fall silent. It was a trick they used when their presence otherwise created mortal terror, as it could de-escalate a situation almost immediately. But I'd had no idea they could use it in their human form! That was really cool, and very helpful to a girl crippled with anxieties.

"You're better than Xanax," I purred, and I could feel his body spasm with his silent laughter again.

He set the paintings I'd picked out in the hall and leaned them against the wall, then he pulled me outside again to another building in the back. "More animals?" I asked.

He shook his head, and continued towing me gently to the building. When we stepped inside, I gasped. "Holy honey that's a lot of books." I walked wonderingly through the aisles as I ran my fingers over the spines of the books I passed. It was a whole house. Full of books. Hehad his own library! Umm, call me Belle because I wanted to live here now. Or, somehow have all of this moved onto my Clan's property. I never wanted to leave.

The library was massive, climate controlled, and completely dust free. I could tell he took care of his hoard meticulously. "Have you read them all?"

"Most of them."

I knew then that I was looking at seven hundred years or so of accumulated books. It was staggering what one could read in seven hundred years. It made me suddenly and fervently wish that I could extend my own lifespan. And then I stopped so suddenly that Roarke ran into the back of me, then righted me with a steady hand. If Roarke really was my mate, that meant my lifespan would expand to fit his.

I could read all of these books!

I spun around and hugged him tightly to me, and he didn't hesitate or protest, he just hugged me back.