Page 75 of Alpha Charmed

Love. The word lands differently now. Weighted with meaning.

“I should have done this sooner.”

“We weren’t ready before.” He presses a kiss to my hair. “Neither of us. We had too much to prove, too many responsibilities to hide behind. We needed to become the people we are now before we could choose each other properly.”

“That’s very philosophical for a wolf.”

“I’m a deep thinker. Ask anyone.”

“Your pack probably thinks you just brood attractively.”

“That too.” His smile is warm against my temple. “But mostly I’ve been thinking about you. What our life could look like. What I’d do if I ever got the chance to show you how I feel.”

“And what does it look like? Our life?”

“Like this.” His arm tightens around me. “Like waking up with you. Like having you in my space, your herbs growing wild, your elegant coat over my chair. Like building a life that’s ours, not just mine.”

“That sounds terrifyingly romantic.”

“I’ve had years to plan romantic statements. You’re going to hear a lot of them.”

The laugh catches me by surprise—genuine, unguarded. A sound I barely recognize as mine. It feels strange in my chest. Strange and wonderful.

“I love you.”

The words slip out before I can stop them. Unplanned. Uncontrolled.

Caius goes very still.

I should take it back. Qualify it. Explain that I meant it in a general sense, not a⁠—

“I love you too.” His voice is rough, thick with emotion. “I’ve needed to say that for longer than you can imagine.”

“How long?”

“Since the first time you argued with me in a council meeting. You were defending some procedural point that no one else cared about, and you were so fierce about it, so absolutely certain you were right—” He laughs, soft and wondering. “I knew then.”

“And you never said anything.”

“You weren’t ready to hear it. You would have run, and I would have lost any chance of…” He gestures at the room, at us, at everything. “This. I’d rather have you in my life as a colleague than not at all.”

“That’s incredibly patient.”

“I’m a wolf. We wait for what we want.”

“And now?”

“Now I don’t have to wait anymore.” He tilts my face up, kisses me slow and sweet. “Now I get to tell you every day. I love you. I love your terrible coffee preferences and your terrifying competence and your secret romance novel weakness. I love that you pretend to be cold when you feel everything so deeply. I love that you let me see the real you, even when it scares you.”

“It terrifies me.”

“I know.” Another kiss. “I love that too.”

We lie there in silence, the moon rising outside the window, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. For the first time in years—maybe the first time ever—I feel completely at peace. No responsibilities pressing. No walls to maintain. Just this. Just us.

“Say it again,” I whisper.

“I love you.”