Page 100 of Never Text a Minotaur

My vision blurred with tears as I realized what was happening.

“Then you texted the wrong number,” he continued, a smile touching his lips, “and somehow found your way to the heart of my maze. You saw me—truly saw me—when I’d spent my life hiding. You brought light and laughter and literature into spaces that had known only silence.”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small box, opening it to reveal a ring unlike any I’d ever seen. The band was intricately carved with a labyrinthine pattern that matched the door and shelves, and the stone was a deep blue that caught the fading sunlight, sending prisms of color dancing across the walls.

“This room is just a small reflection of what I hope to build with you—a life where both of us fit perfectly, where neither has to diminish to accommodate the other.” His hands, so massive and strong, held the delicate ring with infinite gentleness. “Clara Bellweather, would you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my wife?”

For a moment I couldn’t speak, too overwhelmed by the depth of emotion flooding through me. This incredible being, who had endured isolation and prejudice, who had built himself a fortress against a world that feared him, was offering me his heart with such vulnerability that it took my breath away.

“Yes,” I finally managed, the word emerging as a whisper before I found my voice. “Yes, Rion. Of course I will.”

His exhale was shaky, as if he’d truly feared I might decline. With careful precision, he slid the ring onto my finger—a perfect fit, of course. Rion never miscalculated measurements.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, admiring the way the stone seemed to hold depths within it, like a tiny ocean captured in crystal.

“Blue labradorite,” he explained. “It reminds me of your eyes when you’re excited about a new book—full of possibilities and hidden treasures.”

I threw my arms around his neck, nearly knocking him off-balance despite his solid frame. “I love you. So much.”

His arms encircled me, strong and secure. “And I love you. More than I have words to express.”

I leaned back to look into his eyes, my heart so full it felt like it might burst. “Then show me,” I suggested with a smile.

He understood my meaning instantly, rising to his full height and lifting me effortlessly into his arms. “With pleasure,” he rumbled, carrying me towards the door. “Though perhaps not in your new study. The desk isn’t properly reinforced yet.”

I laughed, burying my face against his neck. “Always the practical architect.”

“I prefer to think of it as planning ahead,” he countered, carrying me down the hallway towards our bedroom. “After all, we have a lifetime of load-bearing furniture to design together.”

“Is that a proposal or a promise?” I teased, nipping lightly at his jaw.

His answering growl sent a delicious shiver down my spine. “Both.”

As he kicked the bedroom door closed behind us, I caught one last glimpse of the red yarn trailing through the house—a thread that had led me not just to a beautiful room, but to the culmination of a journey that had begun with a wrong number and ended exactly right.

From misdirected text to marriage proposal, I thought as Rion laid me gently on our bed. Who would have thought a ladder emergency would lead to this?

But then his lips found mine, and all thoughts scattered like pages in the wind. There would be time for reflection later—for now, there was only this moment, this man, this improbable love that had turned my orderly life into the most wonderful kind of beautiful chaos.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.