Page 94 of The Howling
So, when the final throng parts, and I see him standing next to the fire, leaning on the lintel, staring into the flames, his tail waving behind him, my heart flips at how handsome he is.
He turns at the murmurings and his hands drop by his sides, jaw slack as I approach.
“This is not…” He runs a hand over the silk bodice of my dress, his eyes wide.
“It is, but Bessie made it into something especially for me, and for you,” I say. “She wanted it to be special for both of us.”
“I love you, my sweet mate.” Reavely presses his forehead against mine. “I will always love you.”
“And I love you, Reavely. You make my heart sing with every single moment you are near.”
“Then we are married, my little deer.”
“We are?” I look up at the assembly.
“My wife,” Reavely roars, lifting me into his arms and plundering my mouth with a dominant kiss.
“My husband,” I call out.
The entire room erupts into cheers.
“I’d sort of expected a longer, more drawn out affair,” I say into Reavely’s ear. “Humans usually do.”
“There is no need for a ceremony. All my pack needs is to know we are in love. Love is the most powerful magic the Yeavering has ever known.”
“I agree.”
“And now for the public mating,” Reavely says, kissing me again.
“What?” I slam my hands on his chest.
“I’m joking.” He grins, dipping his head into my neck, nibbling at my claiming mark and sending shivers through my body. “I’d mate you anywhere, but only where you want me to.”
He lifts his head.
“And now for the feast,” he bellows at the throng.
They part once again as members of the pack pull the tables away from the wall and others start bringing in the food.
It’s enough to distract them as Reavely carries me through the kitchens and out into the gardens.
We pass through the kitchen garden, the one I love sitting in, and he pushes at the door into the barren rose garden.
“Wait, there’s nothing in there,” I say.
“Is there not?” he says with the hint of a smile, opening the door and stepping through.
Where once I saw him surrounded by dead plants, head in his hands as the Reaper told him he wanted my soul, this place could not be more different.
Blooms, large and small, a rainbow of colours, are everywhere. Green fills the rest of the space, and the scent is one I never one to end.
“Reavely! This is incredible. How did you do it?”
“It is for you, but I can’t take the credit,” he says, setting me on my feet but keeping an arm around my waist as I capture a flower and draw it to my face, to inhale the delicate smell.
“Then who?”
“I always knew she’d want to see this day,” Reavely says quietly.
