Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
T hat night, I marry Weston Wildes in Ravenfell, one town over, where no one knows our names.
The courthouse is unremarkable in every way, and the ceremony equally ordinary—just a few short words in front of the justice, followed by Weston and I signing our names in the registry. We have no bridal crown, no boutonniere, but we do have something infinitely better. The ability to hold hands the whole time.
It’s perfect. An ordinary marriage for two ordinary people.
Afterward, Weston leads me to a charming inn with a gabled roof and a wooden sign hanging out front. We figure my father has probably reached the cabin by now, trying to put a stop to something that’s already happened, and neither of us feels like dealing with it. So we’ll stay here tonight. We can fight with him tomorrow.
Weston guides me through the door of the inn, his hand resting against the small of my waist. Inside, a rush of warmth and laughter envelops me. I take in the cozy common room, then move to unlace my cloak. And gasp .
Mud cakes my simple dress, the ugly brown standing out against the pale violet fabric. My gaze darts to Weston’s black boots and pants, which are in a similar state.
“We’re filthy,” I say. “How’d we get so filthy?”
He studied me, quizzical. “By walking here? Why do you look like you’ve never stepped in a dirty puddle before?”
I blink at him. “Well. Probably because I haven’t.”
His brows lift, but a moment later, understanding smooths his features. “Ah. Right.”
I inspect my dress again. I don’t mind, really, it’s just that I’m still adjusting to losing the litany of domestic conveniences I once took for granted. Some, I didn’t even realize came down to luck. I never knew that clothes don’t always stay perfectly folded when you dig for something at the bottom of the drawer, or that the oatmeal doesn’t always run out just as your belly reaches its limit. Sometimes, you only get two spoonfuls, then have to hunt through the pantry for something more.
“Things are different for you, now,” Weston says quietly.
I don’t miss the hitch in his tone. I step in and brush my fingers against his jaw, coaxing his face down toward mine. “Not in any way that’s important. I’d give my luck up all over again to marry you. A thousand times.”
His mouth quirks, as if he doesn’t quite believe me.
But I rise on tiptoes and capture his mouth with mine. He gathers me close, and I melt into him, letting the rest of the world fall away. When I finally pull back, he looks slightly more convinced.
“How is it for you now?” I say. “Not being a Null?”
He ponders. “Different. I can do all sorts of things I couldn’t before. Build fires. Chop wood. The last time I tried to do that , when I was still Marked... A nail had grown into the tree, and a piece of metal flew off and got stuck in my eye. I had to come here to Ravenfell to get it taken out. Which was...not pleasant. But now...”
He trails off, his gaze going distant. “I can do things. I can breathe . It’s peaceful. Easy. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
My chest lightens. Briefly, I remember the conversation I had with his alter-ego at the cabin, when he opened up about the challenges of being a Null.
“You should’ve let me kiss you ten years ago,” I murmur.
His mouth tilts downward. “No, I should’ve been a gentleman and let you keep your triquetra.”
I open my mouth to argue, but his tone has shifted into teasing territory.
“But lucky for me, I’m not a gentleman at all. I’m just a pugilist. And an accountant.”
My eyes slide over him. In honor of our wedding, he’s donned the black garb I’ve become so familiar with, sans mask. “And a highwayman. A very sexy highwayman. One I’d like to get kidnapped by again.”
“Hmm.” His eyes heat. “I think I’d like to take you upstairs, now.”
I laugh. “I think I’d like that, too.”
The innkeeper ushers us to our room. Once there, the man lingers, delivering a rambling speech about dinner hours and what to expect from this evening’s entertainment.
I don’t listen to any of it. I don’t plan on leaving this room until morning.
When the door finally shuts, Weston makes for the bathroom. “I thought he’d never leave. Just give me a minute to get cleaned up, will you?”
I nod, my heart already spinning a hectic dance. Fortuna help me, the things I’m going to do to this man.
He shuts himself into the bathroom. I kick off my shoes and shuck my dirtied dress. Then I spread out on my back in the feather-down bed, waiting for my husband.
Goddess, my husband.
The word makes me so giddy that I swear a glow dances across the walls. I’m a lit ember, illuminating the room.
I close my eyes and smile.
A few moments later, a massive weight settles atop me. I open my eyes, only it’s not Weston pinning me down. It’s Jack. Black mask and everything.
“Where’d that come from?” I say. “Didn’t you leave it behind the night you rescued me?”
“I had two. Any good highwayman always has two. Especially when he has terrible luck and is liable to lose one.”
He almost-smiles, and I melt into the expanse of his gaze. Maybe his eyes remind me of honey, after all. Because he is sweet, in a way. Sweet and biting both, and I couldn’t love the combination more. “Well,” I say. “Whatever you’re going to do to me, you should probably be quick, because my husband is around here somewhere. If he catches you, he’ll probably break a bone or two.”
“Mmm.” He angles his face to nuzzle my neck. “I hear that’s a habit of his.”
“It is.” A moan threatens to erupt, but I bite it back. “He’s already broken eight bones in my honor.”
He moves to the other side of my throat and licks, long and slow. I shiver .
“Strange,” he says, gravel rattling in his voice. “I’d heard it was twelve.”
I frown. He sucks on my neck, gently at first, then harder, until my toes curl. I force myself to concentrate. “It’s eight, by my count.”
“Then you’re forgetting the guard. At Alverton’s.”
I blink and push on his chest until he leans away. “You broke four of his bones?”
He sighs, and I almost regret asking, because my neck feels very lonely, all of the sudden. “Just three,” he says.
I do a quick mental tally. I may not be an accountant, but I can do basic arithmetic. “That’s only eleven.”
He holds my eyes for a beat. “Is it?”
My gaze thins. “Weston Jackson Wildes. What aren’t you telling me?”
A soft laugh ripples out of him. “Fortuna, I’m going to regret telling you my whole name, aren’t I?”
“Probably,” I say. “Now who was the twelfth?”
He sighs. “Cameron Hale. Four years ago. He said you had great tits. And I didn’t like that. So I hit him in the nose. It broke. The end.”
I stare. I had no idea. None. “But...I do have great tits. So I don’t know if that was really necessary.”
He barks a startled laugh, then dives in for a kiss, which I grant him. By the time our mouths part again, we’re both breathing fast, our chests heaving in synchrony.
“I’m the only one who gets to talk about your tits, Mrs. Wildes.” Those golden eyes glint.
“All right,” I say, breathless. “That’s fair.”
“And for the record,” he adds, “I’m not going to be hurrying anything tonight, vengeful husband or no. I promised we’d go slow. And you know what they say.”
“What? Hope springs eternal?”
“No.” He smirks. “Third time’s the charm.”
I search his face. At least the part of it I can see. Eventually, I’ll make him take off the mask, but for now, I want him in that and nothing else.
“Even if there are no Charms here,” he adds.
Before I can respond, he’s kissing me again. I kiss him back. And I do indeed divest him of everything but the mask.
Then we learn each other, luxuriously, with teeth and lips and fingers and tongues. And I get my wish. I find out what he tastes like.
When he finally slides into me, I’m already half-drunk and sated. Our joining is unhurried, a gentle rock of our hips I never want to end. “I love you,” he says, staring down. “I always have.”
“I love you ,” I say. “I always will.”
By then, it’s just us—no mask, no clothes to shield us, no triquetras and no more doubts. Just me and my husband and the happiest night of my life.
When his lashes finally lower, fanning across his cheeks as his muscles cord, I lift my head and murmur in his ear.
“There may not be any Charms here, but I’ve been charmed twice in my life. Once when I was born, and again when I met you.”
He clutches me close as he goes over the edge.
He doesn’t let go.