Page 119 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

The afternoon unfolds like a dream. Someone props a radio in the barn window, and the crackle of an old country tune floats through the air. The kids find bubbles and chase the puppy, who zigzags wildly across the yard, his little legs barely keeping up with his boundless energy. Arcadia charms vines of morning glory to climb the barn and trees, their blue and purple blooms opening right on cue.

At one point, I catch myself watching Daddy. He stands near Cady, their movements almost synchronized without realizing it. Not quite close enough to touch, but there’s an energy between them—a rhythm, deliberate and effortless. I let my gift slide outward, brushing against their minds. Faint, tentative threads of something new starting to form—delicate, but strong, like the first shoots of spring breaking through the soil.

The day stretches lazily into the golden glow of late afternoon. Dal shows up at some point, his trunk loaded with fireworks. The guys crowd around, leaning in to inspect the haul and plan the show, but Tomas doesn’t join them. He stays by my side—filling my plate, refilling my drink, brushing stray hairs from my face when the breeze catches them.

He’s been like this all day, a quiet, steady presence making sure I feel pampered and cared for.

I start to imagine a life like this, a rhythm of ordinary sweetness. Picnics on warm afternoons, the kids chasing bubbles, the smell of smoked meat curling into the sky. Tomasalways steady at my side, my family close, laughter threading through the air like a constant melody. The thought blooms, soft and unbidden: How fine it would be if every day was like this.

As the shadows lengthen, it happens.

It’s like an invisible bell strikes—a cue everyone hears but me.

The music from the barn lowers, fading into a soft, expectant hush. Tomas hands me a chunk of watermelon, the juice already dripping over my fingers. I pop it in my mouth, distracted, and glance around for a napkin.

When I look back up, everyone is still. The kids watch with wide eyes. Daddy and Sue smile softly. Ben leans casually against the table, close—but not too close—to Dal, with a look that’s far too smug.

Then I see Tomas.

He’s dropped to one knee.

His hands cradle mine, his thumbs brushing over my knuckles in that steady, grounding way of his. There’s a flicker of nervousness in his eyes—rare for him—but his voice is calm when he speaks.

“Trouble, my inevitable girl,” he begins, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I never thought much about marriage. It wasn’t something I imagined for myself. I didn’t think I’d need it, didn’t think it could add anything to my life.”

He pauses, his gaze steady on mine. “Then you came along. And suddenly, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways I wanted you to be mine. All the ways I wanted to show you, and the whole damn world, that you’re the most important thing in my life.”

His grip on my hands tightens slightly, his voice dipping lower. “You’ve carried so much for so long. You take care of everyone around you, even when it means putting yourself last. But I want to take care of you. I want to share the load, the laughter, theridiculous fights, the quiet moments—everything. I want to give you a life where you don’t always have to be the strong one.”

He releases one of my hands, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small velvet box. Flipping it open, he reveals the ring inside. The center stone catches the sunlight, glinting a brilliant blue-green—like sunlight playing on shallow ocean waves. The diamond petals surrounding it sparkle, a dazzling contrast to the shifting hues of the Alexandrite.My rock.

It was the first thing Tomas’ wolf gave to me. He tussled with Shadow for it, both of them snarling and snapping over that mud-covered chunk of magic pulled from the bank of the Black River.

When I drag a still sticky fingertip across it, I can almost feel the echoes of that moment—the wild intensity of Tomas’ wolf, the sleek cunning of Shadow. It’s as though the Alexandrite absorbed that energy, crystallizing a tiny piece of all our bonds. A piece I can carry with me, always.

“Sunday May Prescott,” he says, voice thick with emotion, “will you let me love you, protect you, and annoy the hell out of you for the rest of our lives?” He pauses, his throat working, as if he’s gathering his nerve, “Will you marry me?”

My hand flies to my mouth as the reality of the moment hits me all at once. My heart stutters, my throat tightens, and before I can even think to stop myself, the tears come. Big, fat ones roll down my cheeks as I try to blink them away—and fail miserably.

The kids gasp in unison.

Lily, standing just off to the side, jabs Tomas in the leg with her pointy little elbow and mouths, “COOKIE.”

I laugh through my tears, a choked, hiccuping sound that makes me double over. Tomas glances at her, his face twitching between exasperation and amusement, before pulling a sad-looking cookie out of his pocket and holding it up like a peace offering.

“Here,” he says softly, his lips curving into that crooked, lopsided smile that always gets me. “In case you’re feeling hangry.”

I laugh harder, my chest heaving as I wipe at my face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course, it’s a yes!”

Tomas’ eyes stay locked on mine, his gaze intent, as if memorizing every detail of this moment. I nod, tears spilling over again. He takes my hand, sliding the ring onto my finger with slow, deliberate care.

It fits perfectly.

Before I can even process the sight of it, I’m reaching for him, sinking to my knees so we’re face-to-face. My arms wrap around his neck, and he meets me halfway, his mouth warm and steady against mine. The kiss starts soft, tentative, like we’re both afraid to break the spell. Then his hands find my waist, and I’m not sure who deepens it first—him or me—but the world falls away, leaving just us.

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