Page 231 of Dare To Live

“I love you.” Tightening my grip on our linked fingers, I tug her back toward the bench. “Sit down.”

I pull my cell out of my pocket while she settles onto the seat and type out a text.

Me: There’s a small box beneath the bench. Open it and follow the instructions.

I hit send, then lift my gaze to hers, smiling when her phone chimes. A small frown pleats her brow as she reads, then looks around for the box. She finds it by her feet, picks it up and opens it. There’s a folded piece of paper on top of a black velvet bag inside. She carefully unfolds it and reads.

I know what it says:

Open the bag.

I type out another text, but don’t send it.

Her lips part, the paper dropping from her fingers as she pulls out the bag. Inside there’s a ring. The stones are a mix of green and red—emeralds and rubies—clustered around a diamond.

Her eyes rise to meet mine. I hit send.

Me: Red or green?

“Green!” She throws herself at me. I catch the ring before she drops it and lower myself to my knees.

“Give me your hand.”

Her fingers are shaking when I take them in mine. “I was on a path to becoming the monster they accused me of, until you came along. I’m still a monster, I always will be, but I’m your monster, just as you’re my Kitten, my Princess … my Hellcat.” I push the ring onto her finger. “I love you, Ari.”

She pulls me to my feet and winds her arms around my neck. “I love you, my Nasty Little Monster.”

There. Strangely, Kellan’s voice sounds like it comes from outside my head. I think it’s time for me to go. See you in about six months, right?

Epilogue

Arabella

“Mom, Kellan stole my phone,” my eleven-year-old daughter screeches from the top of the stairs.

I roll my eyes. “Kellan Travers, give your sister back her phone right now.”

A dark-haired boy comes racing down the steps toward me. He scowls. His sharp cheekbones and dark expression remind me of his father when I first met him. Only his eyes are different. They’re blue, sometimes turning gray. They remind me of the boy he’s named after. “Zoey is a liar. I don’t have her phone.”

“I don’t know why you two can’t just get along. You’re about to leave for school. You’re lucky to have a sister the same age attending there with you. At least you’ll know someone.”

“Probably because she’s a harpy.”

“I heard that.” Zoey bounds down the steps. Her features are softer than those of her brothers, and her hair is blonde instead of black, but she has her father’s green eyes. “At least I’m not a troll baby. They swapped you at birth. You’re not my real brother.”

“Kellan was born one minute ahead of you.” I remind her. “Your father was right there. Nobody was swapped.”

“Which makes me older than you.” Kellan’s grin is smug.

Zoey huffs. “Yeah, yeah. You’re going to hold that over me forever. Just tell me where you put my phone.”

“I don’t have it.”

“Like I’m going to believe that.”

“Enough, you two.” Eli’s voice booms. “I was trying to get Mila down for a nap, and the noise out of the pair of you isn’t letting that happen.”

I turn to find him coming toward us with our sleepy two-year-old cradled in his arms. Blonde curls frame her face, her green eyes blinking drowsily as her chubby little hand clutches the front of his t-shirt.

---