Her crystalline gaze drops to the tattoo branded there, the image I got to remind me of her. A perfect anatomical rendering of my heart, wrapped in delicate vines of ivy. Our omega gasps. Her burned scent starts to brighten. “A-ash…” I purr without effort, bending to rub my forehead against hers. “If you’re the same girl I knew,” I murmur, “then you are the one I’ve loved and missed every damn day since I made the mistake of letting you go. And that makes you my queen.”
