Page 161 of Juliet & Her Romeos

I hold my breath, while the sensation fills me that they’re truly looking down on me, as happy as I am.

“Mom, Dad,” I whisper. “I’ve found my home. My family. You don’t need to worry anymore. Amby may be a Romeo but he’s my Alpha. And I know that this is where I belong.”

I blink the tears from my eyes but I’m smiling.

Then I hear a strange sound from around a curve in the path.

Someone is out here with me.

My brow furrows, but I hurry along the path, peering around at the stone terrace, which is lit by golden light that spills from the mansion’s windows.

Then I gasp.

Ambrose is standing behind a wide stone plinth, holding a chisel.

Behind him lie a range of power tools and a chainsaw, which run from cables out of the mansion.

He’s dressed in a long, brown cashmere coat over his suit, along with matching gloves.

On the plinth in front of him is an exquisite piece of art.

It’s an ice sculpture: A giant ice slipper, which gleams under the moonlight.

Beneath it are carved a life-like fox, which is on its haunches with its head down and its paws outstretched like it’s worshiping the slipper. The fur has been carved so realistically along the tail that it bristles.

A snake coils around the slipper, tipping its head back to stare up like it’s never going to let go.

In front of the sculpture, a frozen swan with its wings outstretched bows down…before me.

Ambrose is carving my men around me.

My heart speeds up.

I’m drawn spellbound further onto the terrace.

I watch, as intently focused, Ambrose leans over the swan and chisels a feather, before blowing away a spray of fine ice.

Finally, he looks up and notices me.

Our gazes meet in the silence.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I whisper.

Ambrose’s amber eyes are striking in the dark night. “You are, my Juliet.”

“This is meant to be our pack, right?” I stride across the terrace, studying the sculpture.

“We worship you.” Ambrose never looks away from me, placing his chisel down with his other tools. “You’re at the center of our worlds. I wanted to show you because I’m not good at saying it.”

My breath hitches.

“You just did.” But then, I take my hand out of my pocket to point at the ice sculpture. “But you’re not with us, Amby.”

Ambrose turns back to me, stalking across the terrace. “That’s because I’m here.” He reaches to trace down my cheek with his gloved finger. “I love you.”

The simplicity of his statement hits me harder than any fancy declaration would have.

His sincerity shines through the bond.

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