The tension leaves his shoulders, and he pulls me onto his lap next to James, creating a little family huddle that feels like the safest place in the world.
"I never thought I'd have this," he confesses. "A home. A family. A mate who accepts all of me, even the parts that aren't entirely human."
"I never thought I'd be married to a bear shifter," I tease, brushing my fingers along his jaw. "Life is full of surprises."
"Regrets?" he asks, and though he tries to make it sound casual, I can hear the genuine question underneath.
"Not a single one." I rest my head on his shoulder, watching our son's eyelids grow heavy as he nestles against his father's chest. "How could I regret the greatest adventure of my life?"
His arm tightens around me, and I feel the rumble of satisfaction deep in his chest. The bear expressing its contentment in the only way it can while Marc remains in human form.
Outside, the sun is setting over Cedar Falls, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold that would inspire a dozen wedding bouquets. In a few hours, after James is asleep, Marc will take me to bed and show me all the ways a bear can worship his mate.
In a week, if our offer is accepted, we'll begin planning our move to the house with the white picket fence. Next month, we'll welcome Jake into our growing family.
And someday, when James is older, we'll tell him the story of how his parents met—how a broken soldier found healing in a small-town flower shop, how a shy florist found courage in the arms of a bear, and how true love can transform even the wildest of hearts.
It's not the fairy tale I dreamed of as a little girl.
It's better.
Because it's real, and it's ours, and it's just beginning.
