7. Grace

Two years ago

I'm speechless…

Every part of my heart beats out of rhythm, and I can't find the words. I know he loves me. This display isn't a new reality but rather solidifying an old one. I knew he loved me before it was the kind of love we have now. He loved me as his friend, and then that love shifted to something more for both of us, but hearing the words fall from his mouth, seeing this tree house, hearing this song.

I can't… breathe.

My eyes flash back to the shiny silver band seated beautifully on a satin cushion. It is made up of what appear to be tiny vines encircling small wolves with tiny blue diamonds connecting the pieces, which look almost lifelike.

It's stunning.

My vision blurs again as more tears come, and I wipe at them in an attempt to clear my view. Deacon kneels in front of me, his eyes searching mine, looking for answers as my brain fails to provide the words.

God, I wish we had mind-link abilities in human form.

"Promise me forever, Tails. Give me your heart."

Deacon's eyes plead with me as his thumb slides across my cheek, wiping away the stream of tears.

"I can't," I whisper, barely able to form the words. His jaw clenches and his fire-flecked brown eyes drop to my lap, confusion evident in his expression. Before he can pull it away, I grab his hand, holding it to my face, soaking in its warmth before continuing. "I gave it to you a long time ago."

His eyes flip back to mine in surprise, and what I can only describe as relief before he smiles one of his genuine ‘lights up his face' smiles.

"I love you too, Deacon Marlo. I always have, and I always will."

Then he kissed me. Slow. Intimate. Soul unifying.

That night, we stayed in the treehouse for the first time together, and along with everything else I had given him, my past, my future, and my heart, I gave him the only thing I left to give—my body.

***

Present

Waking up with him today feels like that night.

Hopeful, desperate, and intense in a way I can't even put into words. Our love had only solidified over the last two years, and now, Deacon was taking the steps we needed to be free. Our friendship started all those years ago with an escape plan; in eight months, we will finally be able to see that plan through.

This retreat was Deacon's chance to prove himself among the other Alphas and to find a pack that would take us in when we broke ties with the Northern Nevada Pack. We spent many nights in the treehouse listening to his Elvis Presley records and discussing where we wanted to live.

I didn't want to go anywhere in Florida. Between the swamps and the alligators, it was a hard no for me. Not to mention that Amato's pack was firmly allied with my father.

No, thank you.

Also, Alaska is a no. While we didn't mind the cold as much when we shifted and ran warm even in our human form, the idea of shifting back in that weather and being exposed to the harsh winters solidified our resolve there. Hawaii was out due to the lack of wolves.

We talked about moving down to Texas, New Mexico, or Southern California so we could live somewhere a little warmer. Montana, Wyoming, or Idaho to have some land to ourselves. The Dakotas or the Carolinas for the terrain. We had options; now, we needed allies.

Opening my eyes, I find Deacon staring at me as he draws lazy circles on my arms.

"Remind me again why we've never worked out a coffee maker," I grumble, smiling as I take in the sun dancing across his deep olive skin. Oh, how I dream of that skin. As someone with a pasty white and freckled version, I often wish to achieve the sun-kissed perfection that glistened year-round and only bronzed itself more in the summer months. It made his eyes appear brighter and highlighted how they lit up when he smiled.

"I mean, electricity may have something to do with it," he chuckles while leaning to kiss my nose lightly. I scrunch away while secretly loving when he does it. "Grab your clothes. We can go get breakfast before our last day," he finishes, and I see a bit of sadness shadow his smile.

No.

Not today.

I slide my hand up to rest on his cheek, forcing him to look at me while I climb onto my knees to be at his eye level.

"It's not our last day. We have a million more sunrises and sunsets—thousands more breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. We have a lifetime of date nights, important ones and unimportant ones too, time for arguing and making up, relaxing and working hard, parenting and grandparenting. Our story will not end until the last sound of laughter leaves our lips and the last embrace in your arms is no longer warm on my skin. We will have love, Deacon, and we will have our always," I say with nothing but confidence fueled by The Fates themselves.

This is our future. I can feel it.

"I mean, if I have to," he responds, rolling his eyes with a grin, pulling me in for a deeper kiss, and letting his hands wander as I giggle. He rolls me to my back, looming over me with solid arms on either side. His lips pull back from mine, and his smile finally reaches his eyes, lighting them up like fireworks.

"Always, Tails."

I burn the memory of his expression in this moment to my brain, knowing I will treasure it every second that he's gone. Eight months is a long time, but with love as strong as ours, what could possibly defeat us?