Matteo's POV
“You should go inside,” she said softly, her voice still carrying that slight, breathless tremor. “It’s getting cold, and the kids will be up early.”
“Right. Of course.” I reluctantly let my hands drop to my sides, though every fiber of my being—and the wolf howling with triumph inside me—protested the distance. “Goodnight, Lara.”
“Goodnight, Matteo.”
She gave me one last, unreadable look before turning and slipping through the glass doors, the white fabric of her gown billowing slightly before the curtains fell shut.
I stood on the porch for a long time, staring at the spot where she had been. Three days. Storm was pacing mental circles in my mind, his chest puffed out with arrogant joy. She said yes. Our mate is coming back to us.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, I warned
