“Oh, I think Mr. Kleiner would adore it. He loves company. But that house has as many problems as my cottage here. More, really.”
“It wouldn’t,” he said, venturing on the idea he had been turning over in his mind all morning, until Cang sprang the trap. “If I were to arrange for it all to be fixed.”
Bird’s eyes widened. “What? It would cost a fortune.”
“Bird, this is your home. I would like to make it worthy of you.”
“I do love it here.” She gave him a wavering smile. “But I just rent. The property belongs to Mr. Kleiner.”
“As it happens—it seems never have occurred to you to ask—I have a great deal of money. Not a fortune. I’m an imperial knight, not a billionaire. But there was a fund established at my parents’ treaty, and I have my own earnings, including rewards for service rendered. I’ve never had much interest in any of it before. Until now I was content to live out of my travel bag. But I like this place, this town. I like your friends and your children. This is your home. It would make me happy to establish myself here.”
“But . . . isn’t your home a palace?”
“Technically, two of them. I was born in one and trained in another. But neither has ever seemed like home. Not like the home you have made here, with your friends in this town.”
“I always meant for it to be temporary,” she admitted. “But it really has been my home.” She touched her heart. “Here. Not on paper. I kept thinking I’d lost my home, though actually I hated that huge house Bartholomew insisted we buy. I was never happy there.”
“I understand completely,” he said. “When I returned to the mountains above Prague, which is where my mother’s people live, I always felt like a guest there for inspection. The imperial palace was my school, in effect.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you going to ask Mr. Kleiner if you can rent a room, or . . .”
“I want to buy the house, but he could go on living in it as long as he wishes. Then he won’t need to deal with repairs—I can handle that. The house overlooks the ocean, and it’s quite large. We could make your landlord truly comfortable, accommodate your son’s family if he wishes, and make certain the other residents were permanently protected. What say you?”
Bird’s eyes had filled with tears. “I can’t believe how happy I am.” Then she startled them both by a huge yawn. “Oh! I don’t know why I did that!”
“After-battle fatigue.” He chuckled. “Come. I think we’ve earned a little rest.”
They withdrew to her room, and stretched out together on the bed. She was clearly tired, and his body was still healing. She snuggled up against him, her hand tucked under his cheek. He caressed her, tender and slow, as her breathing lengthened into slumber.
Was this a condition of age? To lie peacefully in his beloved’s arms was a better reward than all his years of gold, accolades, medals, beautiful and eager young shifter women wanting a trophy romp with a silver dragon. He regretted none of those things—they had been excellent in their time and place—but he had discovered, at this point in his life, that he’d sought something more meaningful, without even knowing what he sought.
And now he had found it.
As he drifted off to sleep, he was aware of his dragon humming contentedly, and smiled as he sank down into dreams.
He woke to a warm, fragrant bundle stirring in his arms. A moment’s startle, for he had always slept alone, brought the happiness rushing back.
“Bird?” he murmured, loving her name, her scent, loving the fact that he never knew what she would say next.
“Mikhail.” She turned in his arms, and smiled.
“You woke me,” he said.
She chuckled softly. “You woke me.” Her hand drifted down his chest, down and down, eager and insistent. “Or should I say, you poked me?”
“Oh.” He laughed.
And then they were too busy for laughter.
EPILOGUE
BIRD
Ting Ting!
Bec delicately tapped a silver knife against a wine glass.
The wedding guests seated under the flower-decorated arbors turned expectantly to the pretty gazebo in the center of the garden, where Skater, resplendent in his full dress uniform, and Dalisay, gorgeous in a wedding gown of pink and white, were about to cut the cake.