Chapter 24

Chapter

Twenty-Four

HARPER

S omething smelled amazing.

I moved through my parents' house, my nose leading me to the kitchen. The appliances gleamed, everything clean and sparkling. Mom stood at the stove with her back to me. Steam rose in lazy curls from an array of pots.

For some reason, tears stung my eyes. I pressed my lips together, my heart pumping wildly.

Mom turned and caught my gaze. "Oh, there you are, Harper! Dinner is almost ready, but I wanted to show you something first." She wiped her hands on a towel, then crossed the kitchen and took my face in her hands. Her brow furrowed as she swiped cool thumbs under my eyes. "Are you crying?"

"No," I said through a thick throat. "Just hungry, I think."

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Well. We'll fix that in a minute. Come on." She slipped her hand into mine. "I can't wait to show you this new piece I just bought."

Hand in hand, we went to the foyer. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a glow over the furniture. Mom went to her curio cabinet and opened the doors. Withdrawing a small, delicate vase decorated with two scrolling handles, she faced me.

"The glassblower just delivered it today. It's a priceless piece. One of a kind, really. But it was broken before." Mom shrugged and gave a good-natured laugh. "Well, it'll always be broken, I guess. You can see the repair where the handle attaches."

I moved closer, peering at the spot she indicated. "Yeah…I see it."

Mom sighed. "It's still beautiful, though." She looked at me and smiled. "The whole piece is stronger now. And the glassblower found an additional crack when he was working. So, in a way, maybe it was a good thing the handle was broken."

My breath caught. My heart pumped faster. The sunlight grew stronger, swelling so much it obscured the furniture around us.

Mom's smile turned impossibly gentle. "Sometimes, the broken pieces are the strongest. We can't really fix them. But it doesn't matter. They're still beautiful."

Tears ran down my cheeks. I put a trembling palm over my mouth.

My mother came to me and took my hands. The vase was gone. The foyer shimmered, the light so bright it should have stung my eyes. Mom gleamed in the center of it, her body somehow brighter than the sun.

"I'm so sorry, baby, but you can't stay," she said, her voice wrapping around me like a hug. She squeezed my hands. "You have a very important story to write."

I swallowed. "Which story?"

Mom leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "Yours."

I opened my eyes on a gasp. Einar smiled down at me, his head wreathed with light and…dust?

The battle rushed back. We were still in the warehouse. I lay in his lap, my head cradled in the crook of his elbow. Around us, a raucous cheer went up. As my eyes focused, I turned my head and caught glimpses of people hugging and celebrating. Everyone from the maze was present, their faces full of joy. My father appeared at the edge of the crowd. Tears streamed down his face. One of the centaurs trotted over to him and put an arm around Dad's shoulders.

Myrna stood off to the side, a smile shining in her eyes. Then she squawked as Leander spun her into his arms and planted a loud kiss on her cheek. Rolfe and Goliath embraced, Goliath's smaller form swallowed by Rolfe's bulk. A smiling Keir caught my eye and offered a gentlemanly bow.

A short distance away, Adina stood with Arlo. The bog witch nudged Arlo, a smug look on her face. "Told you they were fated mates."

Arlo sighed, reached into his back pocket, and handed her money.

Einar touched my cheek, drawing my gaze back to him.

"What happened?" I croaked.

Einar smiled. "You tamed the beast."

Joy and disbelief soared through me, threatening to lift me from his arms and toss me into the sky. And I could have done it. I felt…good. Better than good, actually, my body free from pain. I lifted my right hand—and my happiness faded at the sight of my severed pinky. The skin was healed, but the end of my finger was gone.

"It's okay," Einar said, wrapping his fingers around mine and holding my hand against his heart. "If it bothers you, we'll find a way to fix it. But I promise you with all my heart, it doesn't bother me." His heart thumped against my hand as if it wanted to echo his vow.

I drew a deep breath, Adina's talk of fated mates ringing in my mind. "Are we…mated?"

"We are," Einar murmured. He kissed my knuckles. "You're a lycan now. We're bound until our stories end."

Tears burned my throat as my mother's words overlapped with Einar's. A little voice in my head told me to kiss him now and ask questions later, but I couldn't muffle the spark of curiosity that flared to life inside me. "How did you make this happen?"

"You remember the book you saw on my desk?"

I nodded. "The one that shows you whatever knowledge your heart desires."

"That's right. I've read it often over the years, searching for a way to gain control of my beast. But I was looking for the wrong thing. And something tells me I'll never find a way to fix what's broken inside me. You tamed my beast, but I'm still a rogue. That's okay, though. I finally found what I was looking for."

Now, the tears trickled from my eyes and slid into my hair. And my nose ran, which was probably unsexy, but who cared?

I sniffed, smiling through my tears. "What did you find?"

Einar drew a fingertip over the bridge of my nose, his silver eyes shining with love. "You're a reporter, Harper. Haven't you figured it out by now?" He bent, his mouth aiming for mine. Just before he kissed me, he whispered against my lips.

"You."