Slate City was a sprawling metropolis, and like any city, there were the glittering parts which shone in the sun, and the depths that lived in shadow. Where people were just scraping to get by and were lucky if they could break out.

I was one of the lucky ones. Luck, and putting everything into my art, because I knew it would save me. “I’ve been tattooing since I was twelve,” I said quietly. “Where I come from it’s really the only art that means anything, and certainly the only one you could learn. If I’d tried to go to art school, I would have been jumped for saying it out loud, let alone try to find a way to pay for it. But I knew I could find a way out with tattoos.”

“You don’t have any,” she pointed out.

“No. Back then, I didn’t want tattoos to be a barrier against the world I wanted to reach. Now I just haven’t found the right tattoo yet.”

“Oh.” Esme reached out and smoothed the crease between my eyes with her fingers. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

“I’m not. What would the point be? It’s my life. If I’d had a different one, I wouldn’t be who I am now. Just like if you’d lived a different life you might not be here next to me.”

I caught the slight widening of her eyes—the realization all of the pain and fear she kept locked up inside her had a purpose, even if it didn’t feel like it.

“Would you ever get one now?” She asked. “A tattoo. Nothing could be a barrier for you now.”

“I might,” I said. “It would have to be the right one.”

I already knew what the right one would be, but I didn’t want to tell her yet.

“Maybe I’ll get one,” she said softly. She was examining the shimmering comforter, dragging a finger across it. “I’ve always been nervous about it.”

“When you know, you’ll be sure.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

That finger pushed deeper into the fabric. “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been doing this a long time.” We weren’t only talking about tattoos now. “And I can’t count the number of times someone has come in and said they’d been going back and forth, but when they knew, they knew. And after, they always say they’d known for a long time, and they wished they’d done it sooner.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, filled with hope.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

She curled closer, and I slid an arm underneath her. Having her this close satisfied me both as an Alpha and as a man. Her scent was so sweet now, the lilacs overlaying the sweetness of her tea, which turned darker and more bitter if she was afraid or sad. Right now she was all sugar.