A Year of Love Read online

  “No. I mean, Peaches might have choked on it or something.” I put my hand in my hair and pulled a little.

  “Super great idea putting Mom’s ring in a basket for the wildlife.” Austin lifted an eyebrow in my direction.

  I rolled my eyes. “I guess I’m nervous.”

  “Why would you be nervous? You and Pixie are fused together all the damn time.” He added some more jewelry cleaner.

  “I know, I know. It’s just a big step. What if she still wants to get out there and live a little? Date some other guys?” I started to pace. I was not this nervous when I mentioned that I wanted to ask Pixie to marry me. I even asked Mike for Pixie’s hand in marriage, because he was the closest thing to a father either of us had.

  Once I had let the cat out of the bag, Ronna got involved and offered me the family ring. “First kid of mine to get married gets the family ring.”

  I was so touched I had to swallow a few times. I was adopted. I was adopted as an adult by the Burathons. That they would consider this for me was mind-blowing and humbling. I had gotten Austin, Teddi, and Milt on the phone before I accepted the ring, making sure it was okay with them. They were thrilled and teased me about being Mom’s favorite. I teared up a little. This family loved big the whole damn time you were on the planet with them.

  Austin dried the ring carefully. “Gaze, how would you handle Pixie going on a date with another dude?”

  “Uh.” The thought filled me with a throat-stomping amount of rage.

  “Yeah, don’t think it’s an option for you guys, because I don’t think Pixie wants you dating anyone else either.” He held out the sparkling ring to me.

  “Good point.” I took the ring and walked it over to the waiting box. Putting the ring in cake was stupid. Well, it would have been fine if it wasn’t for Peaches. But now I had to ask Pixie to marry me in a room full of all our family and friends. I’d wanted it to be private except for Ruffian as Milt’s drone’s pilot. The video I’d planned of a swirling drone over clear glass-like ice as I dropped to one knee was just a failed nightmare now.

  If she said no…

  Austin interrupted my thoughts as if he could read them, “Just get the girl, brother. You know you belong together.”

  Pixie Rae

  Teddi and I were ready to meet the boys. She was driving. I looked down at my new red nails. Super fancy thanks to Teddi’s quick work. She made sure we both looked picture ready, because Ronna had mentioned that she wanted some framed pictures of us and the guys.

  But I knew. It made sense why Gaze was so nervous. The drone, the raccoon eating what had to be a ring—it all made too much sense. Of course, I was trying not to get my hopes up. Because if I was wrong, I didn’t want Gaze to think I was disappointed in anything he’d done for me. Even if it was just ice skating in the stars that was ruined by a little furry burglar.

  I went along with it. Teddi was texting back and forth with what seemed like a million people, but she could multitask like a boss, so we were both in the car on time and ready for romance. She’d even asked me to make sure my bra and panties matched.

  I was expecting to go to The Brew Shed for dinner, but when Teddi turned the car in the wrong direction, I started to play a game on my phone instead of mentioning it. Four more turns and she pulled off the road.

  I turned to her. “You wanna tell me what’s going on here?”

  “Absolutely not. Do you trust me, Pixie?” She leaned over me and pulled a scarf out of the glovebox.

  “Most of the time.” I tucked my phone into my purse.

  “Good enough. Put this blindfold on.” She held out the scarf to me. “But let me help so you don’t mess up your makeup.”

  After Teddi tied the red scarf in a bow, she checked that I couldn’t see her. All I could see was an outline of her. She clapped quickly and bounced up and down in her seat. “I'm doing such a great job with this.” Then her tone got serious. “I could probably be a spy.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was pretty sure she was trying to sneak me to a place for Gaze to ask me to marry him. If she got serious about the spy thing in the future, I would let her down easy.

  I briefly let my head swirl with marriage plans. The dress. The man. Songs. Cake. The honeymoon. I bit down on my smile. I had to let Teddi think she was good at this.

  She parked the SUV and came to my side. After she helped me out and took my purse from my hands, she led me through a parking lot. I could actually see my feet and hers when I looked straight down.

  Then we were walking through a doorway into a darkened room. I saw a few other shoes, and although it was quiet, I could feel the presence of others.

  When Teddi finally let go of my hands, she said, “I'm going to take off your blindfold.”

  I had to blink a few times as the lights went up and the crowd yelled, “Surprise!”

  But then I saw Gaze, standing in front of me with his hand behind his back.

  “Hi,” I offered.

  “Hey,” he replied, full of nerves and hope. He looked like he was about to play the most important basketball game of his life in a pool full of hungry sharks.

  “You okay?” I stepped close to him and held out my hand. If he was nervous, I was going to help him no matter what.

  “I will be.” He finally gave me a smile and took to one knee.

  It wasn’t a surprise, but all of a sudden I was overwhelmed with nerves, too.

  The room quieted, but I doubt anyone heard Gaze except me.

  “Pixie Rae, we’re already married in my head, but will you do the party and stuff with me?”

  He was right. We were already part of each other’s souls and always had been. I nodded. “I love parties. Let’s do it.”

  He stood and scooped me up, pressing a kiss to my forehead while running a hand down my hair. “Really?”

  I laughed. “Of course. The answer is always yes if you’re the question.”

  He kissed me and then seemed to remember he had another job. Soon, there was a spotlight on us. Then two. I could barely see Gaze through them.

  He struggled to see me and then carefully slid a beautiful diamond ring onto my finger. Music started playing and a few confetti cannons made me jump right into Gaze’s arms. We kissed again.

  The spotlights were swung around the room and I could see where we were. It was the storefront that held Teddi and Ruffian’s charity. All the girls from the Me Parties were here. I saw Austin and a pile of his friends. Taylor and some of my other friends were jumping up and down in the corner. Ronna and Mike and Ms. Josephine were there as well. I looked down at the ring. It had two sapphires on either side, and I recognized it from Ronna’s finger.

  Gaze watched me study the ring. He preemptively answered the question that was forming in my head.

  “Yes, that’s Ronna’s. Apparently, the first kid of theirs to marry gets the ring. I asked Mike for permission to marry you as well.” Gaze’s deep eyes held all the things I was thinking.

  That our love was amazing, and that we now had a family that cherished us—it was a gift. A blessing.

  I turned to face Ronna and Mike. They had their arms around each other and were looking at us with pride.

  I felt my eyes tearing up. “We’ve got it made, Gaze.”

  “We do. I love you so much, Pixie Rae.”

  “And I love you, Gaze Patrick.”

  * * *

  After the party, I had my shoes off in Gaze’s truck. My phone was dead and Gaze dug out a charger for me. After plugging in the phone, we both glanced at the ring.

  “We’ve got a lot to do.” Gaze ran a finger over my knuckles.

  “We do. There’s no rush, though, right?” I turned toward him. I wasn’t sure if he had more things up his sleeve, or if it was just the proposal.

  “Oh, hell no. That’s my last surprise. It was killing me not to tell you what was going on. I suck at keeping stuff from you.” He moved my hair behind my ear.

  “Good. I want
to do this with you, for sure. Maybe we can get married in the backyard?” I wasn’t interested in anything too fancy.

  “Mike and Ronna will love that.”

  I cuddled up to his chest, but the console between us got in the way. “I think we owe them some stuff, just to let them know how cool they are.”

  “They know. But I agree. A backyard wedding sounds perfect. You know we can use Teddi for some ideas.” Gaze threaded his fingers between mine.

  “She’ll turn it into an event, that’s for sure. Your biggest problem will be who to pick as your best man.” I pointed out the obvious. Austin and Gaze were so tight, but Ruffian’s recent appearance had also meant the world to Gaze.

  He exhaled and shook his head. “That’s a good problem to have.”

  “That’s a great way of looking at it.” I moved to crawl over the console, and Gaze helped me.

  I hiked my dress up a bit and straddled him.

  “This is giving me great fashbacks.” He ran his hand up my thigh.

  “Same here.” I settled onto his lap and laid my head on his shoulder.

  Gaze wrapped his arms around me.

  “How long have you been planning this?” I held my left hand up.

  “Since the day I shot a Nerf dart through your window.” He grabbed my hand and kissed the ring.

  “Really, since we were kids?” I watched as his eyes hooded over with emotion.

  “Yeah. You’ve been it since the word go, Pixie. You know that.” Gaze let go of my hand and slipped his behind my head.

  “If it’s always been forever, then we have nothing to lose, right?” I leaned forward and tasted his lips.

  We kissed long into the evening before Gaze insisted we head home. The wedding was a formality. A fun one, but unnecessary when it came to him and me. We were forever anyway.

  Titles by Debra Anastasia

  Drowning in Stars

  Stealing the Stars

  Mercy

  Havoc

  Lock

  See more titles at:

  www.DebraAnastasia.com

  About the Author

  Debra creates pretend people in her head and paints them on the giant, beautiful canvas of your imagination. She has a Bachelor of Science degree in political science and writes new adult angst and romantic comedies. She lives in Maryland with her husband and two amazing children. She doesn't trust mannequins, but does trust bears.

  DebraAnastasia.com for more information

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  Copyright © 2021 Ilsa Madden-Mills

  All rights reserved

  Published by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  Butterfly, Broken is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s twisted imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Author’s note

  Dear readers, I’m so thrilled to be part of this anthology! Normally, I write angsty new adult sports romance and steamy contemporaries. When this short story opportunity came up, I jumped in and wanted to try something new. It’s sort of a mash-up of some of my favorite tropes. I hope you enjoy my experiment.

  Thank you for reading!

  Ilsa Madden-Mills

  Rune

  I’m standing on top of the world.

  Ironic since I feel nothing.

  I’ve watched this world change around me, slowly at first, then so fast I barely noticed. Wagons to cars, candles to electricity, huts to skyscrapers. Bah.

  My eyes snag on the nighttime traffic below. One step off this ledge and my body would plummet thousands of feet, probably smashing right into that sleek, minuscule red Porsche.

  Would it kill me if I didn’t use my wings? Oh, yes. Splat.

  Do I care if I go splat? Up for debate.

  My heart thuds in my chest as I inch forward.

  Right here. Right now. Just open your arms and dive.

  Forget about fulfilling a destiny.

  Forget about my brothers in arms.

  Forget about finding her.

  That final thought digs its claws in deep, winding around my heart like a serpent.

  I whip off my tuxedo bow and toss it over the ledge, watching it helicopter down. I rip my shirt off then toss it over the balcony of the penthouse as well. My pants, shoes and socks are next. Hope no one gets hit below by a size fifteen shoe. Balancing carefully, I throw my boxers next. I laugh as I take another swig from the whiskey in my hands. It’s my fourth bottle, and I’m wasted as fuck, which is hard for a creature like me.

  I sweep my eyes over the skyscrapers of Manhattan, my gaze landing on a kissing couple in a high-rise. Their curtains are parted, and my eyes catch the goose bumps on the girl’s arms, the bead of sweat on his forehead.

  I drink a toast to them. Bitterly. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  My brothers and I attended a party tonight, an event to meet prospective Omegas. We’ve been to many functions over the years: garden parties, luncheons, theaters, ballet performances, art shows, musical concerts.

  The scent of the Omegas there? Sweet enough to make my dick hard as iron. Intoxicating, mind-blowing.

  Just pick a pretty girl and settle, echoes my father’s voice in my head. Either you rule the world, or the world rules you.

  I prowled every single inch of that ballroom, met the gaze of every female.

  Hope had risen, small and fragile, the one thing I’d been holding on to. The king of his clan shall receive his one true mate. Those words are a legend, a promise from the three Fates, but my father never had a soul-bond with his mates, so why do I keep searching for mine?

  She wasn’t there.

  And I’d know.

  Her perfumed scent is emblazoned in my brain: seawater and spruce, with a hint of pear.

  A hundred years ago, I went home to Norway to attend my brother’s wedding—and found her. She was his bride, a blue-eyed, golden-haired beauty with a fierce spirit, and deeply in love with my brother.

  Death took her fast. A warrior, she fought alongside me in battle and died in my arms with a spear in her heart. She was barely twenty and never knew she was meant to be mine.

  I gaze up at the stars.

  If the Fates will it, she should be reborn to find her king, dammit.

  I’m only the heir, but I will be king!

  “What the hell are you doing?” Bodhi says from behind me.

  “Party’s over, huh?” I ask, dodging his question.

  He groans. “Lady Winston corned me with not one, but four of her daughters. One is twelve years old! The gonads on these matrons to get their girls mated. Sheesh. So…why don’t you be a good boy and come off the ledge?” He makes his voice light, but I hear the worry. I hate that. I do. Listlessness hits me frequently, but I’ve been fine, really, just skating along year after year, but a deep discontent has taken me over, and something about tonight has crawled in my head and won’t let go.

  “Always wondered how hard it is to be an acrobat.” I laugh darkly as I do a spin and face him. “Not that damn hard.”

  His face flattens. “Rune. Get. Down.”

  I walk to the right then stumble, weaving back and forth on the ledge, righting myself with my toes. “Whoa. That was close.” Facing the city, I put my ha
nd over my heart and bellow, “‘Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot—’”

  “Macbeth?” He pauses. “Wait a minute—Shakespeare owed me ten pounds over a game of cards. Wanker. Come on, hop down, now. You’re flashing all of Manhattan, and no one wants to see your dangly bits.”

  “That is the whitest ass I’ve ever seen,” comes Evan’s gravelly voice as he joins Bodhi.

  “Looks good, yeah?” I say, twisting my lips.

  “Sure.” Evan pauses. “So, um, whatcha doing, Rune?”

  “Quoting bloody fucking Shakespeare is what he’s doing,” Bodhi replies dryly. “And not well. Pretty sure he skipped a few lines.”

  Meh. I shrug.

  Bodhi blows out a breath, clearly annoyed with me. “Look, I had a vision about a place where females of the clans are disappearing. Something important is there and we need to go. What do you say?” He comes closer to me, slowly, as if I’m a dangerous animal.

  My chest inhales. I’m so tired. Exhausted from years of emptiness.

  And tonight? Walking around that ballroom, the scent of the Omegas that didn’t call to me.

  The wailing cry of a hawk reaches my ears, and it feels like a sign.

  “Hawks are the loneliest birds of prey,” I murmur absently. “Solitary, really. There’s an ancient myth about them: if you hear one at night, it’s a signal to expand your vision of the world, to spread your wings and fly.”

  “Okaaaay, then shift and fly,” one of them says. I don’t know which one. My vision is blurred—finally—and my head feels thick as cotton. I welcome the buzz with a sigh of relief.