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As Silas laughed, she realized that she liked the sound. Liked that he thought she was witty.
“It’s peaceful. Death can be a release and a relief for the person, and that is a blessing. The thing is, a lot of times, it is work to die. It requires physical and emotional effort. What sucks is that for most, particularly if they’re dying out of sequence, it’s a job they don’t want. It’s about loss of control, loss of function, loss of identity and independence…loss of choice and decision, of family and friends. But if you can let go of all that, what comes with it is freedom. A soaring freedom, the soul released from its temporary prison of mortality.”
“Do you mind?” he whispered. “I’m sorry, what?” But then he was taking her face in his hands and lowering his head—and she was pulling him down to her mouth, his lips the only thing she wanted in the world.
Crap, she thought. What was it about meeting someone you liked that messed you up so much?
“And oh, my God, that trifle was the best thing I’ve ever had. I want to thank you for not asking to share it.”
My family is all I’ve got for assets in this world, and as far as I’m concerned, that makes me rich. They’re good, honest folk who have nothing to apologize for.”
“So much love in that house,” Silas said. “Turns it into a palace, it does.”
as a wave of sadness came over her, she tried to tell herself it was too early to go into mourning. Stupid, too. Given that she had the rest of her life to miss him.
Two, if you think I’m going to trust any other person on the face of this planet to take care of you, you’re out of your damn mind.
Silas looked up at her. “Did you just tell me you loved me?” “Yes. I did. And now I’m going to get really romantic. Bend over so I can stick you in the butt.” There was a pause. And then Silas threw his head back and laughed that wonderful laugh of his, the deep, rolling sound bringing tears to her eyes, which she refused to entertain. Cutting them off, she put her hand on his shoulder. “This is more like it,” she said with a smile. But the levity didn’t last.
“Why couldn’t I have met you earlier?” “Maybe you met me at just the right time.”
Ivie ducked his eyes and focused on her twisting fingers. As her mind went blank and her heart thundered, she had an impulse to run out of the room. But then an image changed her mind. She saw her father, standing out in the cold from the night before, his feet planted in the snow, his huge muscled arms bare to the frigid night air, his head up and shoulders back as if he were prepared to bull’s rush anything and everything in his path. That was her oak, that male. And she was his daughter, damn it.
Ivie got to her feet. “I appreciate your advice, but I can’t be professional on this case. It’s impossible. I love him. He is my mate. And there is no way I will sit on the sidelines while he suffers and dies and not fight that fate with everything I’ve got. I’m going to go wherever I have to, do whatever it takes, but the one thing I will not worry about is who I piss off
The redhead was cheerful enough on the surface, but her eyes were focused and alert—and it was interesting for Ivie to see her cousin on the job. They had never had the same patients before because Rubes had been on another unit, and it was great to see that under all that cheerfulness there was a helluva nurse.
“Please don’t forget me. I know I’m probably supposed to tell you to move on with your life and dwell on this little slice of time we’ve been given…but just…take me in your heart wherever you go. It will be the life I wished I’d lived, by your side, enjoying the gift of time and health with you.” “I promise,” she breathed. “I will never, ever forget you.”
“I’ll try to come back to you,” he mumbled. “In your dreams…I’ll come find you…in your dreams…love…you…dearest…Ivie…”
“I thought you needed an oak of your own right now,” Rubes said gently from behind. Ivie’s father was standing in the middle of the corridor, those biker boots planted on the fancy runner, his hands on his leather-clad hips, his tattoos gleaming in the low lighting because, of course, he had come without a jacket on.
The thing was, when you were young, and you went to your parents for support, nine times out of ten, they could fix whatever was wrong. They could glue the broken rudder back on your sailboat. Throw a Band-Aid on a cut. Feed you when you were hungry, put you to bed when you were exhausted, hang out with you when you were alone. They could help you find what was lost, make the storms go away, buy you an ice cream when someone was mean to you for no good reason. Parents, when you were a child, were the source of it’s-gonna-be-all-right. But as Ivie leaned on her dad, it was as an adult. He
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“I mean, I’ve appreciated this incredible level of support from everyone, but I’m ready to have you get frustrated with me for normal things like forgetting to recap the toothpaste, and not putting my dishes in the washer, and leaving my socks around our bedroom.” Sometimes the miracle people prayed for was nothing more exotic than “normal.” And
“I will love you with everything I am and all that I have…”
She knew better than to order any of the Brotherhood or the fighters off the kind of duty Rhage and John Matthew felt they were doing here. To them, she was Vishous’s shellan, and as such, her advanced degrees and recent karate training didn’t mean diddly: Even though the twins and their kin had proven loyal to the King and they had never shown any untoward behavior around her, they were still unattached males near a bonded Brother’s female.

