Page 114 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

Meanwhile, Tomas pulls out his phone, his thumb swiping across the screen with a focused precision that makes his jaw twitch. Jinx notices, her brows lifting as she crosses her arms, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“What’re you doin’ there, Big Bad, crushin’ candy?” she asks, the smirk in her voice unmistakable.

“Paying you,” Tomas replies, not looking up. His voice is steady, but there’s a flicker of tension in his jaw. “You said double the cost, right?”

Jinx blinks, then barks out a laugh. “You’re Venmoing me? Well, ain’t that a first.”

Tomas glances up, his expression flat. “You take cash?”

She holds up her hands, grinning. “Nah, Venmo’s fine. Just didn’t peg you for the type to use it.”

Tomas doesn’t respond, just hits a button and shoves his phone back into his pocket. Jinx’s own phone dings a second later, and she pulls it out, her grin widening as she reads the screen. “Well, look at that,” she drawls. “A wolf who pays his debts—might just start likin’ you after all.”

As Jinx saunters off toward her van, the fading light catches in her braid, making it gleam like a dark rope of silk. Tomas watches her go, his eyes narrowed slightly, his arms still wrapped around me. There’s something unreadable in his expression—wariness mixed with a reluctant respect.

I let out a slow breath, feeling a rush of giddy excitement bubble up now that the heavy magic work is done. My fingers tingle, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

I nudge Tomas gently. “Did you see when she drew that huge sigil on the barn doors?”

His lips twitch, but his eyes stay on the retreating coven. “Yes, Trouble, we all saw.”

“And she said she can show me how to make potions!” My voice is a little breathless, the possibilities sparking in my mind like fireworks.

Tomas’ jaw works, his golden eyes sliding toward me with an expression that’s half amusement, half resignation. “That’s very… handy.”

“And—” I start, but Tomas cuts me off with a low, rumbling sigh.

“I’m glad you made a friend,” he says, his voice dry, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago.

I beam up at him, feeling that rare thrill of being seen and understood. “She’s really cool, right?”

He shakes his head, a faint smile breaking through his stoic facade. “She’s something,” he mutters, pulling me a little closer. “Just don’t let her talk you into anything too dangerous.”

I grin wider. “No promises.”

Tomas lets out another long-suffering sigh, but his arm tightens around me. The coven’s van rumbles to life, pulling away down the drive, and for the first time today, the air feels lighter.

Magic hums in the earth beneath us, a quiet promise of protection, but it’s Tomas’ steady presence beside me that makes me believe we just might be okay.

Chapter Fourty Two

The Prescott Pep Squad

— Tomas —

The sun’s still climbing. We’ve got about another hour before Wade conveniently needs something from the barn, and Sunday just happens to be with him. Pulling this off hasn’t been easy. She’s suspicious by nature, able to sniff out a secret at a hundred yards. But I wanted to show her that we can do this for her—that she can let go, just for a moment, and trust us to take care of her.

I want her to have a perfect day.

She deserves this—a moment where she doesn’t have to plan or work or shoulder everyone else’s burdens. It’s not just about giving her a party. It’s about giving her space to breathe, to feel cared for without obligation. And maybe, when she sees all of this, she’ll understand. She’ll know that I’m not just asking to share her life with me—I’m offering to share the load. This isn’t just a proposal. It’s a promise.

My fingers drift to the small velvet box in my pocket, my thumb brushing against the edge. I’ve triple-checked everything—blankets, lanterns, food. But this? This is the one thing I can’t rehearse, can’t control. The weight of it feels heavier than it should, like it’s not just carrying a ring but everything I want to say, everything I need her to know.

She’s going to say yes.

She has to.

I close my eyes, trying to calm the sudden and inexplicable tachycardia that flares up whenever I go over my proposal. Mywolf isn’t helping, pacing restlessly in the back of my mind. What if we mess this up? What if I fumble the words? My wolf growls at me. What if she doesn’t like it?

---