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During the period when the cabins and bar were being built behind Callum’s mansion, a few of the wolves had stayed in the stable for several months, and during that time they’d upgraded it to be living suitable. It might not be the fanciest digs, Callum had told me, but it was better than stowing away in a shed somewhere.

Or a pigeon coop, I’d reminded myself.

Though Desmond had offered to come with me to tell Holden, I thought it would be best the vampire got the news from me alone. I suspected it wasn’t going to be a happy conversation, and I knew having Desmond with me would only make it that much worse.

The stable was dark when I arrived, and I let myself in through the heavy side door.

I was barely across the threshold when Holden emerged from the darkness like a ghost appearing from nowhere. My heart leapt.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said.

No sense in lying to him, he’d been able to sense the shift in my pulse and the change of pheromones. In that way, vampires truly could smell fear.

“It’s fine. How are you doing out here? Did you find anything to eat?”

We’d both filled up before leaving Grandmere’s, but given how much we’d been through, one small meal wasn’t going to hold us over for that long. I was already starting to worry what might happen if I didn’t get back home soon.

“I went hunting. Not a lot around here thanks to the…natural predators. But I made do.”

“Good.”

We stood there, staring at each other. I wanted to speak, but something in me didn’t let the words come out no matter how hard I tried.

“It’s been a tough few months for you,” he said finally.

“It has. And not just for me.”

He nodded. “Come on. Let’s sit down.” He led the way into a living room where most of the furniture had been removed, save for a couch straight from 1974. The pattern was terrible, but when we sat, I was delighted to find it was still comfortable.

“Things are…changing…” I said, hoping I’d be able to use that as my starting-off point.

Rather than helping me along, Holden simply stared. He was also keeping his distance from me, when normally he would be sitting close enough for our thighs to touch.

He knew.

“Desmond asked me to marry him,” I blurted at last, unable to find a gentler way to pull the trigger.

“I know.”

I looked down at the ring on my hand. “Oh. Not terribly subtle, I guess.”

“No. I knew he was going to do it. He told me.”

That brought my attention right back up. “He told you? Like…he asked for your blessing?”

Holden rested his elbow against the back of the couch and propped his chin on his balled fist. He was gorgeous. Moody, dark and totally beautiful. I wanted to hold him, but I couldn’t. Both because I worried I’d lose my resolve to end things, and because I still wasn’t sure I could handle being touched that way by anyone.

“Not my blessing, no. After the thing in California, when he and I agreed we wouldn’t force your hand with the decision, we also agreed once you did make a choice, we’d accept it. If you chose me, he’d step down. If…” He looked off into the room and refused to glance back at my face. “If you chose him, I would let you go.”

My heart broke. Hearing him say the words was a punch in the solar plexus. It didn’t matter if I was doing the right thing, or that I was picking the partner I wanted to be with. Because I was still hurting, and he was still hurting, and there was never going to be a way to do this without tears, heartache and complete emotional ruin.

I assumed I’d be hurting Holden.

Truth was, I was hurting myself too.

“Before you went to Paris with him, he and I talked again. We talked about you. About how…hard things had been.”

“You mean how crazy I am.”


Tags: Sierra Dean Secret McQueen Paranormal