37. Do-Over （The Epilogue）
Isla
"You almost ready?" Bel bounces on her toes, watching me through the reflection in the mirror, her violet dress flowing with her movements.
I've never been more ready.
I grin widely, excitement and champagne buzzing through my veins. "So fucking ready."
I've wondered over the last few weeks if,when we got to this point, I might feel nervous.But worry isn't something I'm letting live inside me anymore. There's no room for the kind of love this life can give us if our hearts are too full of fear. I have so much love surrounding me, from Bel, Cas, Fritz, Mike and Charlie, and even their little bundle of joy, Angeline.
Flying a baby to Italy wasn't exactly an option for them, so they'll have to be on video chat, but evenfrom the other side of the world, I can feel their support and love.
I stand from the vanity, sweeping my hair over my shoulderand reachingfor Bel, laying my forehead against hers."Did you ever think this is where we'd end up?"
"Yes," she snort laughs. "I mean, minus the demons and the kidnappings, the almost deaths, the horrible injuries and the psychological torment, this is exactly where I knew we'd be. Walking into the future side by side with whoever was lucky enough to keep us."
When she laughs harder, I can't help but join her.
Fritz, my unofficial planner, pops his head in the door with a brilliant smile, "Hey you two, it's time. We'll be waiting."
Just as quickly as he appeared, he vanishes, the door closing behind him.
"Let's fucking do this," she tells me, handing me my almost empty glass. She grabs her own, gently tapping it against mine before webothdrink the last few drops of champagne in the flutes.
"Let's fucking do this," I repeat, taking a big breath in, anticipation flooding every inch of my body, thoughI'm not sure if it's all mine or partially Eamon's.
She takes my hand, tucking it into the crook of her arm, looking at me with teary eyes.
"Don't you start, Bels," I dab at myowneye, hoping to stop the waterworks long enough to get at least a few good pictures.
With a sniffle, she holds her head high, pulling me towards the door. As it swings open, an attendant hands me the cascading bouquet of florals and greenery, settling the waterfall of flowers into my free hand.
If there had been any sound before the doors opened, it stopped as soon as they did. The only thing I can hear is the crashing waves. The smell of salty sea air and roses fills my nose. I can barely feel my feet moving beneath me, captivated by my destination, my journey ahead.
The soft pink walkway glides along the stone, the wind picking up drifts of sand and blowing them across. We don't have enough people for chairs to be necessary. Truthfully, I love it this way. The only people here are the ones we really want.
And there, waiting patiently for me, like always, stands the giant beast of a man I've fallen so deeply in love with. My heart swells as his eyes meet mine, his beautiful smile beaming as he stares at me. The green of his suit matches his eyes, the wonder shining in them rendering me thoughtless.
Bel pulls my arm, and only then do I realize I wascompletelyfrozen, lost in Eamon's gaze.
Are you gonna stare all day? Or are we gonna do this thing?
My lip quivers, overwhelming joy and humor filling my veins as he reminds me of the first time we met. Taking the steps toward him, every single one feels monumental. Over the last year or so, my whole life has been cut to pieces and rearranged, but every moment brought me closer to Eamon. It's all been worth it to be standing here in front of him, the wedding of my dreams with the person of my dreams.
Only a few steps away from him, Bel stops, silent tears streaming down her face as she takes the bouquet from me.
Eamon reaches his hand out for me, whispering to Bel, "Don't worry, I got her from here." When my hand lands in his warm palm, sparks of electricity zing through me,justlike every time. His touch ignites the deepest parts of my soul,the onesI thought died long ago. He pulls me up the two steps to the landing, the stunning arch showcasing the ocean behind it, the sun sinking and washing all of us in shades of gold and pink.
Fritz stands beneath the arch, and I genuinely can't believe he talked Eamon into letting him be our officiant. Bel stands beside Caspian, but I can't take my eyes off the man before me. This brave, relentless, incredible person is mine.
He winks at me, reaching for the necklace draped around my throat with his free hand, running his fingertips across it with a blissful smile. While a pendant of the Northern Lights isn'texactlythe jewelry I dreamed of, it's even better than I ever could have imagined. This silly little necklace sat unopened for months because I wasn't brave enough to look and see it. Long before the captivity, he was trying to reach me in his own way, trying to give me some piece of himself that I wasn't ready to face.
He lifts his hand, brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb, mouthing I love you.
I love you, I repeat.
Fritz takes a shaky breath, drawing both of our attention.
"Love is a wild thing, isn't it?" he asks, notreallywaiting for an answer before continuing the words he prepared. "It changes us, makes us into the best version of ourselves, even if we don't know how to become that person. Even when it's scary. Love is both the catapult that pushes us into free-fall and the parachute that catches us. It is the reason we are all here today. Your love for each other, even through all the bullshit-"
Are officiants supposed to swear? Eamon's voice chuckles in my head.
But he and I both know just how affected he is by Fritz's words. His emotions bubble up in my own chest, and I lose the battle against my tears as they start to flow freely.
"Through every trial life has thrown your way, from being literal natural-born enemies to also being your own worst enemies at times, you two have beaten the odds. Together. You're so lucky to have each other, and we arealllucky to have you both in our lives.
"Eamon, do you vow to honor, love and cherish Isla, through good times and bad, through sickn—nope, you're immune to that now. For richer or for poorer, for better or worse, until the earth ceases to exist and we all turn to dust?"
Eamon doesn'tevenhesitate, nearly getting the words out before Fritz finishes the question, "I do."
"Isla, do you vow to honor, love and cherish Eamon, through the good times and bad, for richer or for poorer, for mortal form or monster, until your souls depart this plane?"
"I do." The two syllables come out as little more than a sob, love and hope so overwhelming as Eamon beams down at me, hisowneyes watering.
Fritz sniffles, "Then by the power vested in me by… somebody, I don't know, I got it off the internet— I pronounce you demon and wife. Eamon, you may now kiss the fuck out of your bride."
And that he does, gripping me by the back of my neck, planting his lips so firmly on mine that I'll be feeling the imprint for the rest of time.
Cas, Bel, and Fritz whoop and holler, and from the phone sitting on top of Fritz's podium, I can hear Mike and Charlie cheering, too.
Eamon's tongue tries to slide into my mouth, and I push him away with a giggle, his beaming, mischievous grin proof that I am really in for it once the party is over.
"I fucking love you," he whispers against my lips, stealing one last brief kiss. "My wife."
If I had any hope of my makeup holding on, it'scertainlygone with just those two words. My wife. I know this is all semantics for us, and the soul-bonding wascertainlymore permanent than a wedding, but beinghis wife, having him as my husband, it's more than I could have hoped for. We're bonded, yes, and we're a family now. A family of our own making. This gorgeous, insane beast of a man chose me to be his family, to build a life with.
I wrap both arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, ignoring the rest of the world for just a minute.
Tomorrow we can worry about the fucking Sanctus Sculitis.
Tomorrow, we can sendpictures of todayto Alastor, who really wanted to come but understood why he couldn't. I don't like the fucking guy, even though he's the only blood relative I even sort of give a shit about. He's spent every waking moment trying to atone, from studying pictures we've sent him of the book day and night—even sending Eamon with some iron box with sigils all over it to supposedly keep any magic in the book contained— to tapping into the Sanctum's network and ensuring they have nothing on me or the people I love.
Tomorrow, we can meet with Eamon's contact in The Vatican, who might have a lead on destroying the Benedici. We've tried everything, and nothing even touches the motherfucker. All we've managed to do is burn down a tree and blow a fucking hole in the ground back home. Maybe we can—
I thought you said those were tomorrow's problems.
I definitely didn't say that. I just thought it , I respond, pulling away to see the smeared lipstick all over Eamon's lips, trying to wipe it away with my thumbs.
"Tomorrow," he tells me aloud. "For tonight, let's celebrate, my little wife. I have several ideas on how."
THE END