"So," I said, nudging Lyra with my shoulder, unable to contain my grin. "My sister and my brother-in-law. This is what dreams are made of."
We were gathered in the bunker's main living area, the morning light streaming through the specialized windows that were designed to keep us hidden while allowing natural light in. Lyra blushed furiously, but I could see the happiness radiating from her.
"It still feels surreal," she admitted, fingers absently touching the mating mark on her neck. "Like I'll wake up and it will have been a dream."
"Not a dream," Ronan said, appearing behind her with two mugs of coffee. He handed one to Lyra, his fingertips lingering against hers. "And I'm not planning on letting you forget it."
The tenderness in his voice made my heart swell. This was a side of Ronan I'd never imagined existed—gentle, attentive, almost vulnerable. Lyra looked up at him with such adoration that I had to look away, feeling like I was intruding on something intensely private.
