Page 142 of Cowboy Bull's Promise

“I couldn’t wait,” I say, and my voice, hell, my whole body, is shaking with the force of what I’m about to do.

She blinks. “Everything okay?”

“Better than okay.”

I stride across the room, grab her hands, and press them flat against my chest so she can feel my heart.

“Kian?” Her brows draw together, eyes searching mine.

“I’ve got something to tell you. And something to ask you. But first, you need to know, the Rut isn’t real.”

She freezes. “What?”

“It’s a lie. A story. A fairy tale cooked up to shame and scare people like me. But it’s not true. There’s no beast inside me waiting to tear us apart. I’m not gonna lose control. I’m not gonna need to be with anyone else. You’re it. You’ve always been it.”

Tears gather in her eyes.

“Kian. I told you,” she whispers, and clutches me to her chest.

I reach into my back pocket and pull back. Then I drop to one knee.

“I’ve spent my whole life afraid of what I might become. But you, you showed me who I am. You made me believe I could be more than a freak or a cast-off or a mistake.”

I pull the ring out and hold it up.

“I want everything with you, Arliss. A home. A family. Sunrises, midnight snacks, and even your terrifying cucumber, mint jelly, and goat cheese experiments. I want to be your forever.”

She covers her mouth with her hands, eyes brimming over, and I don’t think she’s breathing.

“I love you. And I always will. So will you marry me, Mo Chroí? Will you be my wife?”

She drops to her knees in front of me, laughing and crying at the same time.

“Yes. Yes! Of course I will, you big beautiful Bull!” she shouts and throws her arms around me.

I sweep her into my arms and spin her in a circle, both of us laughing like idiots.

When I finally set her down, she takes the ring and slides it onto her own finger with a trembling smile.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers.

“You’re perfect,” I whisper back.

And then I kiss her, right there in the dairy barn, surrounded by herbs, cheese, and the faint bleating of an audience of goats who probably think we’ve lost our minds.

But we haven’t.

We’ve just finally found each other.

And I swear, by the gods, the stars, and every moon yet to rise—I will never let her go.

“Promise?”

“Yeah, Mo Chroí, I promise.”

Epilogue Three-Zeke

Another fucking wedding.

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