Page 159 of The Wolf Prince
One eyebrow rises.
“Second?”
“Dora has seniority.”
“I see.”
“Also, you couldn't talk.”
“An unfortunate disadvantage of being cursed to remain in Wolf form.”
I laugh.
Actually laugh.
My eyes are wet, my mascara is probably in danger, my life has become a fairy tale written by someone with a questionable sense of humor, and somehow I'm laughing.
Because he's here.
Both of him.
All of him.
My Wolf isn't gone. Grimm didn't leave because he regretted me. And maybe hope is stupid sometimes. Maybe optimism gets me into trouble.
But right now?
I'm really freaking glad I didn't give up on either version of him. Then something occurs to me.
“Wait.”
His expression turns wary.
“So, why do you think I’m your mate?”
“Because you are.”
“Because of the curse?”
“No.”
The answer comes so quickly I blink.
“You're my fated mate, Agatha. My Wolf knew it before I did.”
My heart trips.
“But even if the Fates had nothing to do with it, I would still choose you.”
“What?”
“I choose you, my Enchantress.”
“Why?”
He looks genuinely stunned. Not insulted. Just stunned.
“Why?”
