Epilogue
R ose smoothed her hands over the blush pink skirt of her wedding dress, watching her reflection in the tall standing mirror do the same. The Viscountess DeGent moved around the stool upon which Rose stood, making slight adjustments.
They’d designed the gown together. It had a sleeveless bodice covered in flowery white sequined lace and tiny buttons low in the back. The sweetheart neckline showed off Rose’s shoulders and accentuated her small bosom. The sequined lace continued down through the waist and flowed through the generous skirt in flowery vines. Gems sewn into the fabric added extra sparkle.
Stepping forward, her mother set her Constalaysian crown on her head. “You are beautiful, Ambrosia.” She touched Rose’s cheek softly. From beside her, Aurelia sniffled. Rose gripped their hands, each in one of hers.
They felt like they were losing her again, she knew.
“This is not goodbye. There will be visits. Julien will be all yours for an entire week while Adrian and I honeymoon. And soon”—Rose looked to her sister—“it will be your wedding.”
“You’ll be so far away until then,” Aurelia complained.
“We will write.”
“You better,” Aurelia groused. “You’ve already been through this madness.” She looked around the room. “Galen’s mother . . .” She blew out a breath. “I need help.”
Rose squeezed her hand, pulling her into a hug. “Which I will gladly give. We will always be sisters, Aurelia. Always. No distance can come between us.”
The Viscountess pushed them apart, shooing her family back to the settee where a tea service sat untouched. Her mother came back with a sheer shawl, eyeing the visible bite marks on Rose’s neck, shoulders, and chest.
“Mom,” Rose said sternly, folding her arms. “We talked about this.”
“Won’t you be . . . cold?”
Rose almost sighed. The bites she and Adrian loved for him to pepper her with were indecent to her people. But she refused to be ashamed or embarrassed. Even after several months of getting to know him, the elves, most notably her parents, were distrustful.
The three-month courtship in Constalaysia over the summer proved difficult.
But they’d endured, and in the fall when Rose and Julien came back with Adrian to Neigera, the citizens welcomed them with joy. A festival celebrated the King’s betrothal, and Rose was shocked to see some of the people wearing blonde wigs or fake pointed ears. Her name chanted by females, old and young alike, struck her heart. The love and acceptance showered on her was moving.
And Julien was even more celebrated than she. Overnight, he made his way into the citizens’ hearts. They loved the romanticism of his conception, birth, and return home, as they saw it. No longer the outcast, he made friends over the long winter months, ones who saw his differences as advantages. While he and Rose lived in their wing of the palace, he thrived.
Adrian, whom they saw every day, was lauded for being wise and magnanimous—for all the changes he implemented and for courting her.
Over the winter while she planned their wedding, Rose took over the running of the palace. Overseeing the entire staff, from the housekeeping to the army of butlers, attendants, repairmen, stablehands, and gardeners, everyone answered to her. Everything was streamlined and centralized. As her mother taught her, she kept a firm hand on everything that happened in her palace.
In addition, Rose sat with Adrian at every Council, every Assembly, and made her opinion known and her voice heard. She worked hard to open a public school—unheard of and originally scoffed at when she introduced the concept.
The Crimson City Central School was currently being built and would open within the year.
Another of her projects was the opening of a hospital, one funded through the city and not private entities. Renovations on an existing manor that had been badly damaged and abandoned during the Slave War were currently underway. It would be a teaching hospital, with doctors from Neigera, and a few Rose had convinced to move from Constalaysia, educating and training those who wanted to learn.
Things were changing, and she was so happy to be a driving part of that change.
“You are right to show off your bites,” Hilda said, pulling Rose from her thoughts as she sniffed in the Elf Queen’s direction and helped Rose step down from the stool. “Don’t listen to your prude of a mother. ”
Her mother became affronted at overhearing Hilda, but Rose only squeezed the Viscountess’s hand before smoothing her skirt again as her favorite seamstress checked her over for the last time.
A knock sounded at the door, and her father entered, looking handsome and distinguished in his black suit. Unusually, he didn’t have his staff, refusing to use it to walk her down the aisle.
But Lex was at his side and Rose knew the panther would offer support as needed.
“Daddy,” Rose said, turning to hug him and kiss his cheek.
“Daughter,” he replied gruffly. “It is time. Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Though her belly fluttered, she smiled.
Letting her mother and sister go ahead to gather outside the Grand Hall, Rose walked more slowly with her father as they followed Hilda’s directions to their position.
Rose waved to Julien at the front of the procession, standing beside Ciel the lion and his nanny Cora. Around his shoulders sat his lizard, Nigel.
Just days before leaving Constalaysia, the vibrant teal and white reptile had climbed Julien’s leg to his shoulder and not left. Yellow and white spots dotted his back, tail, and the tops of his hind legs. His belly, toes, and face were white, too, and there was yellow on his snout. His tongue was a dark midnight blue, his eyes lime green.
Rose recognized him as her son’s familiar and wondered how that relationship would grow. She felt such potential there, though it was different from what she shared with Ciel.
So much about Julien was different, including his magic.
Everything about raising him was new and unprecedented. She and Adrian were learning as they went along .
On a little satin pillow in Julien’s hands lay the wedding bands. He was proud to be the ring bearer, as evidenced by the way he stood tall with his shoulders back, though his nervousness showed as he dropped the rings.
Dimitri, chuckling and shaking his head, helped him gather them and settle them again on the pillow. He set a reassuring hand on Julien’s shoulder. “Relax, little nephew. It’s only a short walk to your dad.”
Julien glanced down the aisle to where Rose was sure he could see Adrian. On his shoulder, Nigel wrapped his tail around Julien’s neck and his blue tongue flicked the air.
“I’m nervous.”
“No need to be,” Dimitri told him. “Just walk calm and straight, and you’ll be fine.”
“There’s so many people,” Julien whispered.
Dimitri nodded. “Sure, but your dad’s most important, right?” Julien nodded. “So, just focus on him.”
Julien took a deep breath, nodding, and ducked out of the way as Dimitri tried to ruffle his hair. They both laughed, even as the rings fell again, and gave chase. Rose smiled, watching them and thinking Julien seemed so much older.
He wasn’t her baby anymore.
Dimitri looked back and winked at her once they were back in place, and she smiled her gratitude.
It was shocking how changed her soon-to-be brother-in-law was.
But then, they all were.
The music changed; Julien’s cue. He started forward after a nudge from his uncle, Ciel beside him and Nigel climbing to sit atop his head. At their cue, Aurelia and Dimitri followed behind him.
“You’ll catch me if I stumble, Daddy?” Rose asked her father as Hilda gave them a nod .
“I won’t let you fall, Ambrosia. And even though I am giving you away today”—he squeezed her hand on his arm—“never forget who you are: elf, strong and powerful, just and valiant, mighty and true. I am so very, very proud of you.”
Rose swallowed tears and squeezed his arm. “Remind me if I forget.”
“Always, daughter.” He kissed her forehead.
They walked, and she turned her eyes to the altar, where Adrian stood, so handsome in his gray suit. The rubies of his eyes shone with pride. Everything else faded away.
Finally, she stood before him. The officiant spoke, but she paid him no attention. The words were familiar from all their many rehearsals. Her eyes locked on Adrian’s, those beautiful irises gazing into her soul, and she couldn’t look away.
Her father placed the hand he held in Adrian’s. He set his hand over theirs and announced, “I have witnessed the bond shared between these two. It is genuine and true. I give my Ambrosia to you, Adrian, trusting that you will treat her as the treasure she is.”
Going off script, Adrian bowed, causing murmurs in the congregation because it was unheard of for the groom, especially the King, to show deference. But Rose’s father patted his shoulder before making his way to his seat with his hand on Lex’s head.
Vows were recited, the promises to love, honor, cherish, and protect, forsaking all others, until the last of their days.
“It’s my cue?” Julien asked Dimitri, who laughed softly.
“Yes! They’re waiting for you!”
Cheeks tinged the slightest pink as some of those gathered laughed, Julien stepped forward to offer the wedding rings. Adrian set a hand on his shoulder, steadying him before more vows were given, explaining the unending circle of love the band symbolized .
Julien beamed. Rose felt the light in his face reflected inside her as she slid the black metal onto Adrian’s finger. When he slid the jeweled gold of her band onto her finger, she glowed like a star.
Dimitri pulled Julien back to his place beside him, his job long done, and more chuckles sounded from the congregation.
She and Adrian walked hand-in-hand to a little table behind the altar, where they knelt. Aurelia helped with her long skirt, and then she and Adrian lit separate candles—hers a white one that burned with a golden flame to represent Constalaysia, his a black one that burned with a blue flame to represent Neigera. Taking their separate candles, they together lit the larger marbled black and white in the center which was engraved with their names to represent not only their marriage but the joining of their kingdoms.
“And now, having promised their very selves to each other and sworn their duty to their peoples, I introduce to you all for the first time, our ruling couple, husband and wife, King Adrian and Queen Ambrosia!” And then, more quietly he said, “You may now kiss your bride, sir.”
The words barely left his mouth before Adrian yanked her close with a rough hand on her waist. With the other, he gripped her neck and pulled her into a fiercely possessive kiss. He took advantage of her gasp, plundering her mouth in a way that was not decent for such a public wedding. Rose did not complain, holding the lapels of his suit jacket as she kissed him back just as passionately.
Until the officiant cleared his throat pointedly so they separated.
“Our Queen will take her responsibilities and titles today, but her coronation, where she will take her oath of office and receive her new crown”—he eyed her delicate Constalaysian crown atop her head with something akin to distaste—“will take place in two weeks. Now, all are invited to the Grand Ballroom where we shall celebrate this most joyous occasion!”
As was always the case where Rose was concerned, it was a kind of torture watching her, smelling her, hearing her, having her body so close to his, tantalizing, teasing, seducing. They danced, they talked, they ate—or at least she did, munching on the food items she’d agonized over—and they made merry.
Never had there been such a wedding in Neigera. It would go down in the history books, not only as an unprecedented joining, but as an unprecedented meshing of peoples—vampire, human, elf, and many kinds of shifter.
He hoped it was the beginning of a beautiful, prosperous Golden Era.
With Rose beside him, he had no doubt they could make it happen.
He tried to tune in to what Rose was saying to Julianna, whose son was asleep on her shoulder, Andrew’s arm around them both, but had no clue what they were talking about. Rose smelled utterly divine, and he couldn’t wait to sink his fangs—and another part of his anatomy—deep inside her. Her mouth moved, the curve of her pretty pink lips forming words as she spoke and smiled, but he imagined that heat wrapped around a certain appendage.
Moon fuck, he needed to consummate their marriage before he took her like a randy teen in front of the entire ballroom. Not that there were many remaining, and he was glad they’d sent Julien to bed some time ago because the libations were making the last of the guests uninhibited.
But he wasn’t sure how Rose felt about public sex.
Perhaps they could escape to one of the salons like Dimitri had done. Or, good Goddess, Silas had three around him, two with weeping bites and bared breasts.
He’d best refrain.
Because if anyone saw Rose’s breasts, he’d murder them and that would upset Rose.
And he was determined that nothing would upset his Rose today.
Putting on a smile, recognizing the cue that his friends were leaving—about bloody time—he said his goodbyes, even managing to sound cordial. And then he nodded to Timothy across the ballroom, proceeding to sweep Rose up and stride off.
“Adrian!”
He grinned at her cry. “Most are abed now, lovely mate. It’s time we were too.”
Surprising him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s a long walk to our newly decorated wing, husband. Are you sure you should carry me?”
The new title thrilled him. “You weigh nothing, wife.”
Pleasure bloomed in her eyes, eyes that sparkled from the firelight in the hall lamps, and he knew that meant he’d said the right thing. Moving swiftly to the apartments designed by her, he nodded at the guards on duty, not slowing down through the doors they opened, and found a low fire burning and the sheets turned down in their bedchamber. There was even a bath.
But he didn’t have time for that. His cock ached, and he needed to feel her .
“How attached are you to this dress?” His voice was gravelly as he set her on her feet.
“Don’t you dare ruin my dress, Adrian. Hilda and I—”
He interrupted what was sure to be a tirade by pushing her to sit on the bench at the foot of their bed. She huffed cutely, folding her arms and opening her mouth to say more, but he lifted her skirt and began unbuckling her heeled shoe, effectively stopping her. Smiling, she leaned back on her hands, letting out a groan as he rubbed the sole of her foot. She let her head fall back as he did the same to her other.
“I won’t hurt your dress,” he promised lowly. “I just need my hands on you. I ache for you, Rose.”
“Adrian.” She sighed, lifting her arms.
His chest was tight as he helped her stand and began pulling all the jeweled pins from her hair. Not caring where they fell, he simply dropped them, continuing until the fancy chignon fell and her mass of curls was in his hands. He massaged her scalp, taking in every inch of her relaxing expression and the way she leaned into him.
“Mmm,” she moaned as he rubbed her neck, working deftly at her tense muscles before taking off her necklace. He’d bought her a new set for their wedding—pink sapphire and diamond to match her rings. They suited her to perfection.
Setting her earrings with the rest on the bench, he then turned her, tracing light fingers over her back. Her scars were faint, courtesy of her mother, but he adored every one. They were proof of her strength, a reminder of all she’d endured, and in no way marred her beauty the way she feared.
He would never have her light, her strength of moral character, or her heart. He’d always prefer the dark. But he planned every day to prove to her that she’d made a wise choice in coming back to him .
He undid the tiny buttons on her back, scowling at their delicacy and slipperiness. “Bloody fuckers. I’m about to go back on my promise, Rose, and rip this monstrosity off of you.”
Rose giggled, glancing at him over her shoulder. And then the cheeky elf shimmied her hips so the dress slid down and pooled on the floor around her feet. Adrian watched it fall and then took in her body, especially the lacy undergarments. He cocked an eyebrow because they were certainly risqué.
“Now this . . .” He ran a finger over her hip, where pink lace hugged her flesh. “You need much more of. I want to tear it off with my teeth.”
Rose huffed as if she didn’t like that, but her body always said she liked it when he destroyed her clothing. Smiling slowly, he pulled her close and ran his hands over her lace-clad ass. Slipping two fingers underneath, he ran them down her rear seam. She arched, running her hands over his chest, and he bent to nip her shoulder, making her shudder.
“Adrian,” she said on a breathy sigh.
“I love it when you say my name like that.”
“You have far too many clothes on. Gods, I want you inside me.” With a cute little impatient growl, she unbuttoned his vest—he’d lost his suit jacket long ago—and then his shirt.
The smell of her arousal, which had already been heady, intensified. Pulling her closer, he dipped his head to lick along her neck. He could feel her pulse pounding as he ground his erection into her.
“Fuck it,” she cursed, ripping his shirt open. The ping ing of buttons across the room fanned the flames of his desire. And her damn hands sliding his shirt off, they were hot, so hot against his cool skin.
Intoxicating, that’s what she was, every part of her, even more so than his favored cognac.
As her fingers worked his belt, he nibbled on her neck impatiently, his fangs aching to bite. He hungered for her. He thirsted. He ached with need far beyond simple lust.
“I need you. I need you. I need you,” she chanted, echoing his thoughts as she shoved his pants down. Toeing off his shoes, he hastily stepped out of the rest of his garments and lifted her by her thighs, walking on his knees up the bed with her wrapped around him. He settled her at the head, cushioned on the pillows, and stared down at her.
“I cannot be soft tonight, Rose,” he confessed, grinding his erection against the lace still covering her center. He bared his throbbing fangs, as if she could see how he suffered being outside her flesh.
She bared her neck, making his heart stutter the way it always did when she submitted, and said, “Then don’t. Take me, Adrian. I am yours.”
He bit deep into her neck, nice and high where everyone would see the punctures and bruising for days. As he drank deep, the hot, thick lifeblood that pulsed with her power fueling him instantly, he tore her underwear.
Tasting her only fueled his desire, ramping up the ache. Sliding his hand between them, he stroked her soaking slit, teasing the nub of her clitoris. Mewling like a cat in heat, she spread her legs and rubbed against his fingers.
She was ready and wanting, so he positioned his cock at her entrance and thrust inside in one swift move. Her heat enveloped him, the initial shock of it threatening to send him over the edge already. His balls ached, knowing she was his, tied to him in every way, fogging his mind.
He wanted to brand her in every way, not just with his rings, a new crown, his name, and visible bites from his fangs, but with his semen staining her skin and changing her scent. He wanted his seed to take root and change her very body. He wanted to watch it, her body growing round as the proof of his virility, and their bond, grew within her .
The whole fucking world would know she was his.
He bit deeper, drinking the sweetness of her greedily as he pulled his hips back and then slammed deep. She welcomed it, her legs wrapped around him and her hips moving in time. She cried out with every thrust, her magic wrapping around them, stoking the fire building.
But it wasn’t enough.
He released her neck but let her blood sit on his lips, let it trail from her neck, the scent of it saturating the air to feed his frenzy. He watched it raptly as he pounded harder into her, his wife, his mate, his everything, reveling in her pleasured cries and the way her fingers dug into him. Her cunt squeezed his cock, pulsing in rhythmic waves that had his already tight balls ready to explode.
Gritting his teeth, he held off, even as her magic pulsed, twining through the fabric of his being.
As her body trembled with aftershocks, he slowed his thrusts, drawing it out, backing off his orgasm by sheer force of will. Only when she calmed, when her dazed pink eyes met his with drowsy satiation, did he shift her hips, raising her off the mattress, and pulled back to slam home even harder.
“Adrian!” Gripping the sheets above her head, she arched into his onslaught. He grinned, the blood trailing from his bite a decadent stain on her skin. He bit her again on her left breast, leaving it to leak, and then did the same on her shoulder, and then near her opposite collarbone. Watching her body writhe as the head of his cock rubbed the elusive spot he found hard to reach sometimes, he made sure to stay right there until she shattered again, screaming to the Gods as her blood puddled and ran in rivulets over her skin .
An exquisite creature, he could spend all his time making her come, watching her fall apart, listening to her wanton cries. He only grew more addicted every time he had her.
Release tingled at the base of his spine, tightening his testicles until his pounding into her became relentless. His Rose ate it up, only crying harder, twisting on the bed as another climax hit.
And then she ran her fingers over her chest, smearing her blood but also gathering it up. She offered it to him, and he hissed, warning her by baring his fangs that he was on edge. Smiling seductively, she painted his mouth as her magic pulsed between them, weaving their spirits tighter.
He struck, biting her fingers so she cried out in pain and pleasure, and licked and sucked as his hips pumped, slapping hers at every thrust. His eyes rolled, lost to the building ecstasy until release barreled through him. Seeing stars, he momentarily blacked out, and when he came to, her cunt was still milking his pulsing cock, her magic pulsing with it as it faded.
“Fuck, Rose,” he groaned into her neck.
Chuckling, she stroked his back. When he rolled off her, she cuddled close, and something inside him settled.
Their bond was fully satisfied. They were tied together in every way.
“We should have another child.”
Rose looked up at him drowsily, her skin still sexily flushed as her eyes searched his.
“Julien needs a sibling, at least one.” He smiled, flashing his fangs. “We have all honeymoon to get my seed to take. Your fertile period approaches, does it not?”
Rose took his hand and moved it to her lower belly. He thought at first that she was asking for another round, but then he saw in his mind’s eye a tiny thing floating in a watery sac. With no real form, it was just a collection of cells burrowing into a thick, lush blood supply. Part of it beat, steady and strong. Cradled in Rose’s magic, it grew, fully protected.
She was pregnant, he realized, stunned speechless.
“I wasn’t sure you were ready,” Rose whispered. “I wasn’t sure when to tell you.”
Pulling her closer, he buried his face in her neck, completely overwhelmed. Some vampires never had children at all, it was so hard to conceive, and his mate was giving him a second. It had been greedy to wish for more than Julien.
But he did. He wanted everything with Rose. He wanted to give her everything.
“You amaze me, Rose. Every day. I’m one lucky fucking bastard.”
Rose lifted his face. “I’m the lucky one, Adrian. You saved me, changed me, and every day I love you more.”
Rolling over her, he settled between her legs, where she was still slick with their combined release. She opened willingly, ready for him again as he was for her.
“I love you, wife, and I’m going to show you again and again.”
Tugging his hair, she pulled him down to kiss.
“Prove it, husband.”