"Brock, I want to thank you for helping me the way you have. You've saved my life--more than once--and you've been the kindest, most tender and giving man I've ever known."
He frowned, parting his lips as if to say something, but she talked over him.
"I want you to know that I'm grateful for the friendship you've given me. Most of all, I'm grateful for the way you've shown me that I can be happy again. I didn't think I ever would be, not really. And I never thought I'd be able to fall in love again--"
"Jenna," he said, his voice stern, his dark scowl deepening.
"I know you have to go with Corinne. I know I can't give you any of the things that she can, as a Breedmate. We could never have children, or a blood bond. There's a good chance we won't have anything close to the time you'll be able to share with her." He shook his head, muttered a low curse, but she couldn't stop until she'd said it all. "I want you to go with her. I want you to have your second chance--"
"Stop talking, Jenna."
"I want you to be happy," she said, ignoring his quiet demand. "I want you to have everything you deserve in a mate, even if that means without me."
He finally silenced her with a hard kiss, putting his hand on the back of her neck and bringing her up against him. He drew back, holding her gaze in a passionate, possessive stare.
"Stop telling me what I need to do." He kissed her again, softer now, his mouth covering hers, tongue demanding entrance. She felt his need, and the emotion that seemed to say he never wanted to let her go. When he finally released her, his dark eyes were glittering with amber sparks. "For one damned second, Jenna, let someone else be in charge."
She stared at him, hardly daring to hope she knew where he was heading.
"I'm in love with you," he whispered fiercely. "I love you, and I could give a damn if you're human, cyborg, alien, or some mixed-up combination of all three. I love you, Jenna. I want you to be mine. You are mine, damn it.
Whether we only have a handful of decades together or something closer to forever. You are mine, Jenna."
She sucked in a ragged breath, overcome with joy and relief. "Oh, Brock. I love you so much. I thought I'd lost you today."
"Never," he said, staring deeply into her eyes. "You and me, we're partners. Partners in everything now. I'm always gonna have your back, Jenna."
She laughed around a sob, and gave him a shaky nod. "You'll always have my heart."
"Always," he said, then pulled her into his arms for a deep, never-ending kiss.
Chapter Thirty-five
Jenna's boots crunched in the moonlit snow as she stepped onto a patch of pristine, hallowed ground just outside the tiny village of Harmony, Alaska.
It had been a couple of days since she'd awakened in the compound infirmary, fully healed from the stab wound she'd received during the rescue of the captive Breedmates.
Only a couple of days since she and Brock had promised to spend their future together as lovers, mates ... partners.
"Are you sure you're ready to do this?" he asked her, wrapping his strong arm around her shoulders.
She knew he hated the cold of this place, yet he'd been the one to suggest the trip north. He'd been patient and understanding, and she knew he would stand out here with her forever if he thought she needed the extra time. His breath steamed in the frigid night air, his handsome face solemn, yet reassuring within the deep hood of his parka.
"I'm ready," she said, turning a misty glance onto the small cemetery that stretched out sleepily before her. Twining her gloved fingers through his, she walked with him toward the far corner of the plot, to where a pair of tall granite markers stood side by side in their thick blanket of snow.
She'd been prepared for the wave of emotion that swamped her as she and Brock approached Mitch and Libby's graves for the first time, but it still took her breath away. Her heart clenched, her throat constricted, and for a moment, she wasn't sure that she'd have the strength to see this through, after all.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
Brock squeezed her hand, his deep voice gentle. "You can do it. I'm gonna be right here next to you the whole time."
She looked up into his steady, dark eyes, feeling his love enfold her, lending her his strength. She nodded, then continued walking, her wet gaze rooted on the etched lettering that made everything seem so irrefutable.
So very raw and real.
The tears started falling the moment she stepped onto the ground in front of the headstones. She let go of Brock's hand and moved closer, knowing she had to make it through this part on her own.
"Hi, Mitch," she murmured quietly, kneeling down into the snow. She placed one of the two red roses she'd brought with her at the base of his marker. The other one--fastened with a pink ribbon to a small, stuffed teddy bear--she laid carefully near the smaller gravestone. "Hello, sweetpea."