“You remember what I told you, back at Lord Marshall’s, about wishing I could be what you needed?” He shifted, touching her face. “There was a time I dearly wanted to be able to tell a girl, ‘I love you. Come be mine forever. Be my wife.’”

She drew in a breath at the intensity of his gaze, the way it held hers. “But when they took away who I truly was, I chose being a vampire,” he said. “I chose anger over love, and became something new. Something that couldn’t be what you hoped to find with Willis. I’ve never met a woman who made me regret that, more than I’ve felt it with you.”

She swallowed. Framing his face with her hands, she gave him her heart in her eyes, her touch. “I may not be fancy or complicated and understand everything about vampires and servants, but I think God made pretty sure that love is something that’s clear as clean glass when your heart’s open. I’ll be whatever you need, whatever you want to call it. Just love me back. That’s all I need. I can handle anything else.”

Taking a deep breath, she offered him a smile that competed with the shine of the stars above. “You might not have been my first kiss, but I promise you’ll get the last one. If you can catch me.”

Then she bounded off the rail and was running back toward the house, laughing. Those sneakers he’d painted tripped through the grass, her curls bouncing. Mal watched her go, indulged himself in giving her a head start, and wondered at the miracle of finding his heart so open whenever he was around her. She was right. Whatever vampires and servants were supposed to be, they already knew what they were, could be, for each other.

He’d been like his cats, trying to live in the now, never dwelling too much on the future. But the future was suddenly unfolding in front of him, and like the moon shining on this meadow, turning everything gleaming and silver, including her, it was full of promises meant to be kept.