Chapter 320: The Ring

Chapter 320: The Ring
I watched in stunned silence as she stood, her silk dress pooling around her feet. She stepped away from the couch, putting distance between us.

"No?" I struggled to understand. "Lyss, what—"

"I said no." Her voice carried finality that made my stomach drop.

I rose from the couch, my legs unsteady. "But we just... I remember everything now. I remember how much I love you."

She wrapped her arms around herself, not meeting my eyes. "I know."

"Then why won't you let me complete the bond?" Desperation crept into my voice. "Don't you want us to be whole again?"

Is she still angry about the memory loss? Does she think I'll forget again?

Fear clawed at my chest. After everything we'd just shared, after the miracle of my memories returning, was she going to walk away? Leave me broken and incomplete?

I stepped toward her. "Lysandra, please. Talk to me."

She backed toward the door. "I need to go."

"Wait." I reached for her hand, but she pulled it away before I could make contact. "Don't leave. Not again."

"Stop. Stay here. Don't follow me."

She was leaving. Again. The pattern was repeating itself, and I couldn't understand why.

"Lyss—"

"I mean it, Tristan." She grabbed the door handle. "Don't follow me."

The door closed behind her with a soft click that echoed like a gunshot in the suddenly empty room.

I stood frozen in the middle of my hotel room, staring at the closed door. The silence pressed against my eardrums. Her scent lingered in the air, making her absence even more pronounced.

What the hell just happened?

Ten minutes ago, she'd been moving above me with desperate passion. She'd marked me, bringing back every lost memory with the force of her love.

I sank onto the couch, my head falling into my hands.

Did I push too fast? Was asking to mark her too much? Why wouldn't she let me complete the mate bond?

Maybe she doesn't trust that the memories will stay. The thought made my chest tighten. Maybe she thinks I'll forget again and hurt her.

I couldn't blame her for that fear. The weeks since my injury had been torture for all of us. She'd watched me treat our children like strangers, had endured my coldness and suspicion. Why would she risk opening herself to that pain again?

But fuck, it hurt. Having her so close, feeling complete for the first time in months, only to have it yanked away.

I moved to the window, pressing my palm against the cool glass.

A soft knock interrupted my spiral into self-pity.

Hope exploded in my chest. I crossed the room in three quick strides, yanking the door open with perhaps too much enthusiasm.

"Lyss—"

I stopped mid-word. She stood in the hallway, but something was different. Her posture was straighter, more composed. The wild emotion from earlier had been replaced by quiet determination.

Then I saw her hand.

On her right ring finger, catching the hallway light like a small star, was the engagement ring I'd tried to give her weeks ago. The teardrop diamond I'd chosen specifically for her, the symbol of hope I'd carried when everything between us seemed impossible.

"You're wearing my ring."

She lifted her hand, studying the diamond as it caught the light. "Your mother gave it to me before we left for Switzerland."

My breath caught. "Mom did what?"

"She said it belonged to me." Lysandra's voice was soft, contemplative. "That someday, when your mind healed, you'd remember choosing this for me. You'd remember the hope you carried when you picked out this specific stone."

"I remember." My throat felt tight. "I remember thinking it looked like captured starlight. Like it was made for you."

She stepped closer, close enough that I could see the tears gathering in her eyes. "That's why I said no."

Confusion crashed over me. "Because of the ring?"

"Because of what it represents." She moved past me into the room, and I closed the door behind her. "When you asked to mark me, I was just your ex-wife. The mother of your children. Someone from your past."

She turned to face me, the diamond catching the lamplight as she gestured. "But now I'm wearing your ring. Now I'm your fiancée again."

Understanding dawned like sunrise. The breath I'd been holding escaped in a rush.

"You wanted to wear the ring first." My voice carried wonder. "You wanted to be my chosen partner, not just..."

"Not just the woman who happened to be there when your memories returned." She nodded. "I wanted you to mark me as your fiancée. Your future wife."

Jesus Christ, I love this woman.

The thought hit me with startling clarity. Only Lysandra would care about such a distinction. Only she would want our bond to be built on choice rather than history.

I crossed the space between us in two quick steps, cupping her face in my hands. "You incredible, wonderful woman."

Her smile was radiant. "Is that a yes?"

"That's a hell yes." I kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. "But first, let me do this properly."

I dropped to one knee in the middle of my hotel room, taking her left hand in mine. The ring on her right finger caught the light, a promise waiting to be fulfilled.

"Lysandra Ravencroft." My voice carried every ounce of love I felt. "I remember choosing that ring for you. I remember hoping you'd say yes. I remember believing that somehow, despite everything between us, we could build something beautiful together."

Tears spilled down her cheeks, but her smile never wavered.

"I'm asking again, with my whole heart and complete memory intact." I lifted our joined hands to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Will you marry me? Will you be my wife, my partner, my chosen mate for the rest of our lives?"

"Yes." The word came out on a sob. "Yes, Tristan. I'll marry you."

I slipped the ring from her right hand to her left, where it belonged. The diamond looked perfect against her skin, like it had been waiting all this time to find its proper home.

When I stood, she threw her arms around my neck, pulling me down for a kiss.

"Now," I said against her lips, my voice rough with emotion, "will you let me mark you? Mrs Wolfbane?"

Her nod was immediate, certain. "Yes. Mark me."

I guided her back to the couch, settling her in my lap with reverent care.

My lips found the curve of her neck, the place where my mark would rest for the rest of her life. "I love you," I whispered against her skin.

"I love you too." Her fingers tangled in my hair, holding me close.

I pressed my teeth to her pulse point, feeling her heartbeat accelerate under my lips. When I bit down, marking her as mine in the most fundamental way possible, power exploded through the room.