(Featured in Werewolf)
Parker Westwood is well on her way to qualifying for the US woman's gymnastics team. Determined to be on that podium in red white and blue with a gold medal around her neck. She could do it too but the Phoenix Basin pack has...
When I came to it wasn't slow like it had been in Phoenix. One second I was asleep the next I sat up in bed. A heavy throw blanket fell to my lap. I was in a hospital gown but I wasn't hooked up to anything this time. My head wasn't hurting though I felt the bandage that pulled at lengths of my hair. No IV meant no drugs so I couldn't explain why I felt fine. I should be hurting from broken bones, at least a bad concussion but there was nothing.
Bash was sitting on the side of the bed, his head pillowed in his arms on the mattress. I pulled my fingers from between his, reached out and ran them through his hair. He rolled his head so he could look at me without dislodging my messaging fingers.
"Hey, handsome."
"How are you feeling?"
"Oddly perfect." I glided my fingers down his jaw, scratching along the scruff that hadn't been trimmed for a day or two.
He closed his eyes and kissed my palm. "We let you sleep for a while."
Nodding, I scooted down the bed so I could lay my head next to his. "It's over."
He leaned in and kissed me. "You know what these means, don't you?
I shook my head, confused by his cheerful tone.
"It means you have to marry me now."
I grinned at him. "Is that right?"
"Mmm hmm." He kissed me again, a kiss that was slow but powerful. It seeped into my heart and my soul. The bond between us glowed with it.
Mate.
When he looked at me there was nothing to describe it but love. "Isn't that how these kinds of stories end. I save your life, you save my life, we defeat the evil threatening our love and then we get married and live happily ever after.
"Nope. You've got it all wrong, mister. That's how it's supposed to start."
"Is that a yes?"
I smiled at him. "Didn't you say I have to merry you? Isn't there supposed to be a question in a proposal?"
"Mmm hmm." He kissed me again. "I did say that, love. You have to. You're stuck with me now. I'm Alpha, you have to do what I say."
"I'm Omega, I don't have to do anything."
He raised an eyebrow at me trying to look serious but the dimple in his cheek gave away his amusement. Crawling onto the hospital bed with me he pulled me into his arms looking down at me. "Parker Westwood, will you marry me?"
"Well, if you insist."
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We waited until after the funeral to announce the wedding. Werewolves have an ancient ceremonial burning when a werewolf dies. Bash explained it in a way that made more sense to me. As werewolves we know the call of the hunt, we know the way predators smell a carcass and search for food. Our ancestors didn't want to be buried in the ground to be eaten or dug up by other carnivores.
