that means?” She shook her head. “Does that mean something to you?” It was the only part of the prophecy she hadn’t understood. He grinned before lifting his shirt. Just above the waist of his jeans was a crescent birthmark. “The moon,” she breathed. “My father has it. My grandfather too. It’s passed down from father to son.” Her mouth fell open. “It must be linked with your line.” He shrugged the shirt back down. “We’ll have to find out. But that makes sense.” Laughter floated from her lips. And just like that, everything made sense. All the years of preparation, of worrying about who her mate was, had been for nothing. Because he’d been by her side the whole time. The prophecy was true. Her mate had claimed her at Cloch Chroí. Fate had guided her all along. She looked up into the smiling eyes of the man she loved. She’d never doubt Fate again.
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