KILLIAN THOMPSON’S POV

The whiskey rolled down my tongue as it burned its way through my throat.

Just the exact way I loved it.

My gaze drifted to Aveline.

She sat beautifully as always beside me.

My coat wrapped around her, claiming her as mine and no one else.

Then my eyes slipped down to her finger where the huge rock sat elegantly on her fingers.

The same one I placed there.

Piercing eyes burnt through me, making my gaze snap up the moment I felt them.

And I watched—observing as her lips tugged up slightly at the edges.

That was until the line expanded, curling slowly into a beaming...