Chapter 30: Ewan's POV: The Mark I Choose

Ewan's POV

I woke on the third day in her old bed, with sun on my face.

There was a pink scar the size of a coin under my collarbone.

She was sitting on the edge of the mattress in my shirt, eating toast.

"You're awake," Briony said.

"I'm told I was dead."

"For about a minute. You were rude about it."

"Where's Corbin?"

"On your fence line. He's been out there since six, in a borrowed hat."

I laughed, and my chest pulled, and she put the toast down and laid her palm flat over the scar.

The warmth went into me at once.

"Stop that," I said. "You'll tire yourself."

"I've been doing it every four hours since the Bowl."

"Briony."

"Lie back, Doyle."

I lay back.

She took her hand away, and she looked at me for a long time with her gray eyes steady.

"I did something while you were out," she said.

"What?"

"I signed the Redmoor seat register. Then I wrote one more line in the margin."

"What line?"

"Alpha's mate: Ewan Doyle."

I couldn't speak.

I had been exiled for three years for saying that out loud, and she had put it in ink.

"You don't have to answer in words," she said. "I'm not asking for a promise. I'm telling you I chose."

She stood up and pulled my shirt over her head.

Then she crawled onto the bed over me, naked, with her hair falling around my face.

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