Chapter 45
Sage
“I know you wanted a traditional mortal wedding with the dress, the people, the celebration, but I have waited centuries to call you my wife, and I do not wish to go another day without being able to do so,” Von said, stepping toward me.
His knuckles drifted down the length of my arm, taking my hand in his.
Something cold touched my skin, and my fingers curled around it.
“So, Little Goddess, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife tonight?”
I lifted my hand, looking at the beautiful, dark, ethereal ring.
An emerald stone sat in the middle, surrounded by intricately woven vines and tiny, dainty leaves.
The emerald reminded me of the color of Von’s eyes, and I couldn’t help but marvel at it.
Nestled beneath the glimmering stone were white and black diamonds—a nod to us both.
The metal was a silvery-black color, as if the night and the moon had been harnessed to craft it .
Tears misted my eyes. So much detail had gone into this ring. So much love .
“Did you make it?” I asked, my voice crackling with emotion.
“I did. I had planned to give it to you on our wedding day,” he admitted, his words holding a great deal of weight.
My brows wove together, my chin trembling as I peered down at the stunning ring, which suddenly felt so much heavier. “All this time . . . you’ve been holding on to it.”
Gently, he tipped my face up toward his. “I’ve carried your wedding ring with me every day, every year, every decade, every century. I held on to it until I could finally give it to you. Until today.”
My heart missed its beat.
I thought back to the limited time we had spent together after I reincarnated—from the moment he took me from the village square to the time I spent working in the bathhouse, all the way to when he had traded his life for mine, making that deal with Arkyn.
All that time, I had been so suspicious of him, mistrusting. Little did I know he was carrying my wedding ring with him, that he had for centuries—
I would not make him wait any longer.
“Yes, I want to become your wife. Tonight,” I exclaimed, smiling up at him.
“Good,” he replied, and then he closed the distance between us as his lips found mine.
His kiss was ravenous, his desire scorching.
I enveloped my arms around his neck, careful not to drop the ring.
My body pressed against his, while his hand clasped my jaw, keeping me there as he kissed me senseless.
I pulled back and asked, “Do we need to find a priestess or something? If that’s even possible, all things considered.”
He raised a questioning brow as he spoke in a low, amused tone, “Are you asking me , the maker of deals, if I need someone else to marry us?”
A laugh blossomed from my lips. He had a point. “Are you going to marry us then?”
He smirked, pride flickering in his eyes—the look akin to a cat with a mouse in its mouth. “I am, although it will not be done in the traditional sense.”
“What do you mean?” I couldn’t stop smiling.
“We’re going to make a deal.”
“Are we now?”
He gave a confident nod. “We are.”
“And the terms of this deal?”
“Give me the ring, love.”
Unweaving my arms from his neck, I handed it to him.
His fingers brushed against mine as he took it. Holding it before me, he said, “Tonight, you become my wife, and I, your husband. Tonight, you agree to give what is owed to me. You agree to give me your soul.”
“Will you give me yours in return?” I asked, voice light. Playful.
“I cannot,” he answered, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.
My smile faltered. “Why not? ”
“Because it’s always been yours. I’ve always been yours.”
“Oh,” I whispered, my heart ready to stampede straight out of my chest. This male.
“However . . .” Von took my hand as he got down on one knee. “What I can give you in return is my vows.”
My eyes pulled wide. “Wait, are you doing it right now?”
“I am.” No arrogance was spared in those two words.
My mouth popped open. I gestured to myself. “But I’m not wearing any clothes.”
A wicked grin played on his lips. “I see no point in conjuring you a dress, considering it will not last very long.”
He had a point.
Still, that didn’t explain . . . “Why are you kneeling?” I finished the thought out loud.
“Because this is how it should be when a husband commits himself to his wife. Bending the knee is how you show honor, respect, humility. This is how I want to enter our marriage, by surrendering all that I am, all I possess, and everything I will be to you.”
Air escaped me as I looked at the strong, proud god. A king among kings. Ripe with dark, unimaginable power. And he was bending the knee to me.
My beautiful, dark villain who had become the hero I desperately needed.
With his eyes holding mine, he spoke in his velvety-rich, deep tone, “I surrender to you, Little Goddess. From this day forth, I vow to be your protector—your sword and your shield. I vow to be steadfast—my loyalty unwavering and true. I vow that my body will be a sanctuary to yours—my arms a safe fortress, my chest your place to rest. I vow to always hold space for your dreams, to honor you, our bond. I vow to be a good husband. I vow to be yours .”
My soul danced to the song of his words as tears spilled from my eyes.
Lowering to the floor, I knelt in front of him, taking his free hand in mine.
I brought it to my lips, kissing his tanned skin, before I met his gaze.
Utilizing every cell of my being, I pledged to him, “I vow to love you through the bad and the good. I vow to give you my life, my love, and all of myself, every piece of my heart. Completely and irrevocably. I vow to be a good wife to you. I vow to be yours, Von, beyond the end of time.”
I had never seen him look so happy.
He asked in a voice that was barely audible, but so very him, “So we have a deal, Little Goddess?”
“We do,” I said, my cheeks starting to hurt because I couldn’t stop smiling.
And as it would seem, neither could he.
Creator above, he was beautiful. Heartbreakingly so.
Smoothly, he slid the ring onto my finger, where it would forever remain. The ring was a perfect fit. Of course it was. Because he had made it for me.
I marveled at it. At him .
Shadows pooled down his arm, encircling his ring finger, conjuring another ring—the masculine version to my own, marked with white and black diamonds. Our colors .
“You made us matching wedding bands,” I whispered, unable to pull my gaze away from the wedding band on his finger. I brushed my fingers over it, getting to know it.
“Of course I did,” he said, his fingers intertwining with mine.
He slid his free hand to my jaw, gently tipping my face upwards.
Then he kissed me with claiming need. He lengthened it, deepened it, until I felt like I was dancing amongst the clouds with him.
Until I was certain that the remainder of the world had disappeared and all that remained was us.
That kiss was one I would remember for the rest of my life.
Because in it, there was only one language to be found—love.
Sweet, beautiful love .
Smiling like a fool, his lips released mine, and we both glanced down.
The moon shone brightly across our hands, illuminating our rings. Illuminating our vows to one another. Under its silver, watchful glow, we were wed.
Husband and wife.
At last.
I watched in awe as the tattoo he spoke of earlier began to form. It was even more beautiful than I could have imagined. I lifted my hand, tracing the delicate design, stopping on the crescent-shaped moon above my breasts.
“What do you think?” he asked, standing, and taking me with him. He wiped away my happy tears.
“I love it,” I answered wholeheartedly. I missed the other tattoos he had given to me, because through them, it had always felt like I had a piece of him with me.
In truth, I was honored to wear his ink once more, to see it marking my skin.
Relieved even.
I looked at his chest, hidden beneath his tunic. “Do you wear the matching one to mine?”
“Sort of, but mine is a bit simpler.”
“Can I see?” I asked.
He raised a brow, his handsome face almost too much for me to handle looking at right now. “Eager to get me naked, wife ?” he teased, his voice a shot of bourbon.
Pride overwhelmed me, just hearing that word on his lips.
“Say it again,” I murmured, mesmerized by the power of it.
“Wife,” he purred then kissed me. Like a thief in the night, he stole the very air from my lungs. No matter how many times he did it, I never seemed to see it coming.
“Again,” I beckoned breathlessly in between kisses.
I could feel his lips shift into a smile. “Wife.”
I let out a deeply satisfied sigh.
“Is that a turn on?” he asked, pulling back.
I grinned. “You tell me, husband .”
“Mmm.” A masculine, throaty moan passed his sexy full lips, stoking my coals with oxygen. “I understand now.”
“Right?” I chuckled.
Glancing down, I traced my fingers over his arm, following the lines of his ink. “Are some of these ones you’ve done by hand rather than using magic?”
“Some are, yes,” he acknowledged, rolling his arm over so I could continue to explore his muscular arm, his skin hot beneath my touch.
“I hadn’t realized that before. I had thought all of your tattoos were from deals you had made.” I looked back up at him.
“Most of them are, but some I’ve gone over. The ones I couldn’t reach I had Folkoln redo. Like the ones on my back.”
“Why?”
Eyes meeting mine, he answered slowly, each word ripe with deep meaning. “Sometimes, you need to feel the pain of something to feel like you’ve earned a right to have it.”
My breath hitched in my throat. He wasn’t just talking about tattoos. I sat with that truth for a moment before I asked, “Which ones?”
His eyes burned like liquid fire. “The ones that matter the most. The ones I made with you or on your behalf.”
“Von.” I spoke his name softly, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I had no idea what I’d done to deserve him, but I couldn’t help but feel gratitude toward the Creator for making him.
A memory from a lifetime ago conjured in my mind, of a dark forest and an even darker male, of mud and rain, of a newly formed bond, of my lips tattooed on his—
My gaze shifted to the prominent bulge in his pants, which was pressed against my bare abdomen. The seam of his leathers stretched taut, emphasizing what waited for me beneath the onyx-dyed fabric.
Although I had been well acquainted with his length in the past, I realized that I had only seen it once in my current lifetime, and that was when he was in his phantom form.
My brow furrowed. “When you came to me as a phantom, the tattoo of my lips . . . I don’t recall seeing it.”
“It took every bit of remaining power I had left to send my apparition to you that day. Because of that, I had to pick and choose, which meant I was missing a few things,” he answered. “It’s a good thing you didn’t look down, because I didn’t have any feet either.”
“Stop,” I said, cracking a smile—one echoed across his lips.
“It’s true. My feet are big and my cock is big. I had a decision to make. When I saw you on your knees, mouth open in invitation, it was an easy one.”
My cheeks ran hot at the memory—his hands in my hair as he’d filled my mouth. Heat pooled in my lower belly. I wanted to do that again.
“So then, are my lips still there?”
He gave me mischievous grin. “They are.”
No better than a dog narrowing in on one exceptionally large bone, I hooked my finger into the waistband of his pants, feeling the hardness of his body on one side and the smooth leather on the other. “I want to see. All of you.”
Heat scorched the air between us, his dark eyes fixed on mine. “Then see all of me.”