Page 146 of His Fury

“Over the phone? No.” He snorted. “Come to the reception area.”

He hung up.

I stayed rooted in the spot for thirty seconds, and then Ihurried to the door and back down to the reception area, where Zayn was waiting.

“Walk with me?”

I nodded, conscious of so many eyes on us. I took his hand, and he led me outside. It was a beautiful morning, but I couldn’t focus on anything except the man beside me. Zayn tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow as we walked. It was such an old-fashioned gesture, and it suited the grounds of The Grand beautifully.

The silence was killing me. “Zayn?—”

“I knew the moment you asked me to be your first kiss that I would fall so far in love with you that I wouldn’t know where I ended and you began.” He didn’t look at me as we walked. “I like my life. I wouldn’t change it. I’ve stayed out of relationships, too many people are too soft for this life. There’s not many who could stand up in the darkness like I do and thrive.” He looked down at me and smiled softly. “It’s hard to trust people.”

“Zayn, I?—”

He stopped, turning to face me, the sun behind him, but he was so tall that he blocked it. “The night you asked me to kiss you, I knew you did it because you trusted me with that. And I knew right then and there that I would always be there for you.” He looked past me for a moment and then back at me. “I haven’t always given you the chance to trust me…” His gaze didn’t falter. “But you love me anyway. And IknowI don’t deserve that, but I will.” He reached out and cupped my cheek. “You love me, and God knows I fucking worship you, Isla Wells.”

He dropped to one knee, and for a heartbeat, the world blurred.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered that weweren’t alone. The conservatory was full of staff, of guests, of people who would see. Who might whisper or stare.

But in front of me was Zayn—confident and sure, the only person who mattered.

“I love you so much,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion behind his eyes. “Will you marry me, Is?”

The air in my lungs turned thick. Time slowed. I knew I was crying. “My name is Isla.”

He squinted. “Is that a yes?”

I had spent so long sacrificing myself for my career. Doing too much. Craving control and building walls no one could scale. I had spent years trying to find a place where I could belong without losing myself.

But not anymore.

Because with him—withthisman—I didn’t have to struggle to find my place. I could take up space. I could be strong and flawed and full of contradictions…and still be loved completely.

Zayn didn’t just see me. Hechoseme, and I chose him. I’d keep choosing him every single time.

Not because I needed saving. But because loving him made mestronger. Because I would go to war for him, too.

Because I wasn’t someone in his life.

I washis life, and he was mine.

My lips curved, my heart full, my voice unwavering. “Yes.”

EPILOGUE

ISLA

Two WeeksLater

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long golden streaks across the sky. From the upstairs window of the house, the world felt still. Safe. Ours.

I heard him coming up the stairs before I saw him and stayed where I was, not bothering to turn when he walked into the bedroom. His arms wrapped around my waist from behind, and his chin rested on my shoulder. He was warm, solid, steady.

The way he always was.

The way I needed him to be.

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