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The curse had trained my body to expect disaster. Even now, I still braced for impact whenever I opened my eyes.

But then I’d feel Carolina beside me. She was warm and real, breathing slow and steady in the dim bedroom, and I’d remember. The curse was gone. Permanently. Lifted by Jacqueline’s own hand in a moment I still couldn’t quite believe.

I’d trace the line of her jaw in the quiet, careful not to wake her, marveling that this was my life now. That I got to keep this. That somehow, impossibly, the clumsy, broken vampire who’d been dumped in Arrhythmia with two blood packets and no plan had found his way home.

“You’re doing it again.”

Carolina’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. She was awake, her blue eyes catching the daylight filtering through our bedroom window, watching me with amusement.

“Doing what?” I asked.

“Staring at me like you’re trying to memorize my face.”

“Maybe I am. In case you disappear.”

She laughed, low and warm, and rolled toward me, her hand finding my chest. “Not going anywhere, vampire. You’re stuck with me. Bond and all.”

I covered her hand with mine and felt the warm hum of connection between us. The mating bond had settled into something comfortable. The desperate, electric urgency of those first days had deepened into something permanent.

It reminded me of a river that had finally found its course and would keep flowing, steady and true, for as long as we both existed.

“Promise?” I asked with only a hint of teasing.

“Promise.” She kissed my shoulder. “Now get up. We have a lunch date.”

I groaned. “With your mother?”

“With Mack, actually. He wants help with that ’69 Mustang he’s been restoring.”

I sat up and stretched, still amazed by the easy precision of my body. Every muscle obeyed me. No tremors. No sudden loss of balance. Just grace.

“You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I actually enjoy helping him.” I pulled on my shirt. “Even if he still calls me princess occasionally.”

Carolina laughed from the bathroom, her voice echoing off the tiles. “He calls everyone princess. It’s a term of endearment. I think.”

“He calls you princess?”

“No. He calls me Your Majesty. Completely different.”

I smiled as I fastened my jeans.

Once, I had been cursed, alone, and convinced the universe had designated me as its personal punchline. Now I was mated to a terrifying redheaded witch and spending my afternoon rebuilding a muscle car with a billionaire bear shifter who ran a supernatural security empire.

If this was immortality, I could work with it.

Paws, Claws & Fangs had changed too.

Or maybe I had.

Later that morning, I stopped in before heading to Mack’s garage. I walked through the door without bracing for laughter, still smiling at Carolina’s parting insistence that I come home without motor oil in my hair. I didn’t scan the room for threats or expect to become the punchline before reaching the bar.

Dean still tended bar. He still nodded when he saw me and poured my beer without spilling a drop. The difference was that now he asked about Carolina, the coven, and whether Jacqueline was softening or merely planning something elaborate and terrifying.

“She invited us to the spring celebration,” I told him as I slid onto my usual stool. “Apparently, it is appropriate for the heir and her mate to be present.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose. “That’s practically gushing, coming from her.”

“I know. I’m terrified.”