Hunting Ember (Pride of Alphas #1) - Milly Taiden Page 0,57

you for all of the little things you do. Like, use spoons as bookmarks or how you use twenty spoons when you make icing because you need to taste-test everything. I love your passion and determination, even when it makes me a little crazy. You complete my life in a way I could have only hoped for.”

Ember blinked back happy tears as Kai echoed exactly how she felt for him.

“We’re mated now. Our bond is complete, and it’s an eternal commitment. So why not make another one.” Pinched between his fingers was a sparkling diamond ring. The diamond, an oval shining with clarity, was flanked by two small pink gems. Pink. Bright colors. Because he knew her. Because he knew she liked splashes of flashy colors. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. “Marry me, Ember Brady.”

She nodded, holding out her shaking hand. Kai slipped the ring on her trembling finger and kissed her knuckles. “I will marry you, Kai Mason.”

He hugged her close. Her mate, her future husband. Her head leaned onto his chest, where she could hear his heartbeat. Somewhere in the thumping, she heard the low purr of his lion.

Everything was settled. Completed. In fact, there was only one thing missing.

“I’m going to bake triple-chocolate cupcakes,” she said.

“Show me how to pipe icing again,” Kai whispered into her hair.

“You just want to get some icing in some interesting places,” she chided with a giggle.

“Yup, all over my fiancée.” He nipped her shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now let’s get baking.”

“Bakers gotta bake,” he teased, holding her close. “Five more minutes,” he pleaded, nuzzling her.

“And lions gotta lounge,” she laughed.

Ember nestled into her man, placing a kiss over his heart. “Mates gotta love,” she whispered happily.

The End

Keep reading for a preview of Chasing Sparx, the next book in the Pride of Alphas series.

Chasing Sparx

Chapter One

I can totally do this.

Yup, Sparx Brady, the best soap opera actress of her generation, was talking to herself. Out loud and alone in her dressing room, pacing like a caged animal, she was giving herself the pep talk to end all pep talks. She really needed all of the courage she could get. After fifteen years of playing Samantha Arden's role on The Town, she should have enough clout with the network to demand a better storyline. It’s time the producers stopped seeing her as the child on the show and as a woman who wanted to expand her career.

Better yet, she was well within her rights to demand to be written off the show for a few months. She could take a filming hiatus or sabbatical, or whatever the hell they wanted to call it. The show’s executives had let a few male leads be written off to go film other shows and movies many times over. They wouldn’t treat her differently. They just wouldn’t. She had to believe that. The gut-churning stress was entirely unwarranted.

It’s going to be perfectly fine.

Her dressing room was full of flowers, cards, and a bunch of random knickknacks she got from well-meaning fans of the show. The closet, which was nothing more than a line of racks, was almost crumbling under the weight of all her character’s clothes. Samantha Arden never wore the same thing twice, which she blamed the writers for since her on-screen parents never refused Samantha anything. The woman was a snob and a fashion icon. Many trends had started in this very room. Sparx took pieces home with her all of the time. It was wasteful to let the garments die alone in here. She’d tried to ask the writers and other staffers to repurpose some of the items, but her suggestion had been met with outrage. It was all very dramatic. All very soapy.

Sometimes, the staff members forgot that they worked on the set of a soap opera. They didn’t live in one.

“Sparx, they’re ready for you,” Jay, one of the assistants, said after giving her door a quick knock.

Sparx thanked the young man, straightened her back, making her long brown hair cascade down her back, and marched herself to the writing room. About twelve people were waiting for her, even though she’d only called the meeting with the director and head writer. They’d been the ones to contact the executives. Maybe that was why Sparx was so nervous.

“Sparx,” Milton James Covington, the most important man in the room, snapped her name like it was a curse word. “What can we do for you?”

“Hi, everyone,” she answered, sitting down at