Her eyes open once again, and I’m struck by their beauty and all that we could have lost today. “You will never put yourself in that kind of danger again, do you understand me. If you die, we die.”
“I promise.”
I roll over and pull her with me. We take a moment to catch our breaths, and she traces her fingers over my chest, brushing the scar lightly.
Katriona props up her head, and I have never seen a more beautiful sight or felt prouder. I take in the woman marked with my sperm, and I can’t wait for the day her belly is swollen with our child, whoever’s it is, he or she will be loved.
“What was the surprise? This morning Sylan said you three had a surprise for me. What is it?”
I ease from the bed and reach for something from the side table.
I can tell she loves the way I marked her and I love the sigh of contentment she gives.
I offer her my hand, and she takes it, coming to stand by the end of the bed just as Drake and Sylan enter the room. One look and they know what is about to happen and come up behind our woman. Our family is complete, Sylan, Drake, my blood brothers, myself and now Katriona.
“Marry us, mo chroí.” Sylan and Drake take in the way she’s wearing my seed and smile. They kiss her and then quietly fall to their knees alongside me.
“Mo chroí means my heart in the old Irish tongue. You are our treasure, our everything. Our life and our heart are yours. They beat for you and only you.”
“What Sylan says is true,” Drake follows gruffly. He doesn’t get emotional often and to hear his voice shake is huge.
I don’t expect the tears, and my heart breaks as she falls back on the bed. She clamps a hand over her mouth and shakes her head.
We go to stand but the next words out of her mouth slam into us like a sledgehammer and looking at my blood brothers, I know it’s a welcomed, glorious pain.
“Yes. Yes!”
I’m on my feet first, taking her in my arms before she can utter another word.
Tears sting the corners of my eyes, and I’m right there holding her close.
“Here, let me.” Drake slips the delicate gold band we had specially made on rush order—we have connections—onto her ring finger. Irish knots are woven into the gold and are Sylan’s personal design with tiny details that only we would recognize and ones I can’t wait to teach her.
“There’s no beginning or end,” she says with a smile.
I take her finger and trace over the beautiful lines. “Endless like our love for you. We are forever tied together in this life and the next.”