Page 48 of Sacrifice

“Choices, choices,” I whisper to myself, reaching out to brush my fingers over the fabrics, imagining how each one would feel against my skin, how each would draw Gunnar’s eyes, and how each would seal our fates in this bizarre yet beautiful moment.

I’m still mid-thought when the door eases open again, and Rook’s familiar frame fills the doorway. I glance over, taking in his easy grin and the casual way he stands there with his hands tucked away, his foot kicking back to close the door with a soft thud.

“Hey,” I say, relief washing over me. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he replies, sauntering closer.

I can’t help but study him as he approaches, his presence grounding amidst the chaos of tonight. “Are you…okay with this?” The question feels heavy on my tongue, weighted with the complexities of our pack dynamics.

“Okay with it?” He wraps his arms around me, his embrace warm and reassuring. His lips brush against mine—a touch so feather-light it’s almost a whisper—and I feel a surge of affection for him. “Aisling, the pack is already bonded. This is just making things official.”

“Even if it’s so sudden?” My voice is barely above a murmur as I lean into his hold, seeking comfort in his certainty.

“Even then.” He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze squarely. “Look, I know it’s fast, but that doesn’t change how I feel. And Gunnar…” A soft chuckle escapes him, tinged with respect. “He was first. He’s the prime of our pack. It’s right that he goes first with you.”

“And you’re really okay with being…second?” The word feels wrong as soon as it leaves my mouth, because Rook isn’t second to anyone in my heart.

“Second, third—it doesn’t matter.” His smile is genuine, reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’ve known since the start that I’m in love with Gunnar’s girl. That’s not changing anytime soon.”

The admission ignites something fierce and tender within me. Rook has never been one to hide his feelings, but hearing those words out loud, in this moment, solidifies what we all are to each other.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice steady even as my heart races. “For understanding, for being here.”

“Always,” he murmurs, pulling me close once more.

“There’s just…there’s just one thing I want,” I whisper, biting my lip. I gaze up into his hazel eyes, searching them for what I hope will be a yes. “I want you to bite me.”

He laughs, brow furrowing. “You—what?”

“Like the others,” I say, one hand reaching up to touch the bite marks across my neck—Gunnar, Oberon, Luka. “I know you’re a beta, that it’s not the same, but…just a little. Just so you’re with me, too, when I make this official.”

Rook’s eyes smolder with a mix of surprise and desire, his lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words come. “You’re serious?” he finally whispers, his voice husky.

“Dead serious.” I take his hand in mine, threading our fingers together. “Because I’m not just Gunnar’s…I’m yours too, Rook. I belong to all of you, and you all belong to me.”

I tilt my head and move my hair aside, baring my neck. Rook leans in, breath ghosting over the bite marks on my skin…and then he kisses me softly.

“After,” he purrs. “When we’re all together. Then, I’ll claim you…my selkie.”

I swallow hard, suddenly overcome with emotion as I meet his eyes again. The selkie…that’s the story he told me what feels like a lifetime ago on Luka’s couch, about the unattainable girl who ran back to the ocean.

“You know I’m not running away, right?” I ask.

He nods. “I know. We’re going to get our happy ending.”

I start to kiss him again—but the door swings open with a soft creak. The attendant is back, her expression one of polite professionalism marred by a hint of shock, as though she’s walked in on something forbidden.

“Am I interrupting?” she asks, her gaze darting between Rook’s flushed face and my half-dressed form.

“No, not at all,” I say quickly, dropping Rook’s hand as I step toward the dressing room’s collection of gowns. “Rook here is going to help me pick out a dress.”

“Is that so?” She still looks uncertain, but she doesn’t push it, instead retreating a step to give us space.

“Absolutely,” Rook confirms, his voice a touch breathless from our earlier exchange. His eyes linger on me for a moment longer before he turns his attention to the dresses. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

I follow his lead, my heart still racing from the intimate promise we just shared. We stand side by side, scanning the rows of gowns, each one more stunning than the last. It’s a decision I never expected to make, least of all with Rook, but there’s a thrill in that unexpectedness—a spark of rebellion against a world that has tried to dictate our fates from the start.

“Which one do you think?” I ask Rook, genuinely curious about his opinion.

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