Chapter 10
Rose
I shift in the bed, drawn gently out of sleep by a thin ray of sunlight sneaking through a gap in the curtains. For a second, I forget what day it is.
Today is the day.
The butterflies in my belly wake up all at once.
Stretching their wings and flying in every possible direction.
Nerves, anticipation, joy, fear, excitement, all swirling together until I can’t tell them apart.
Strong arms are wrapped around me from behind, curled like vines around my waist. Vox’s chest is pressed against my back, his breath slow and deep against my shoulder.
I bring his forearm closer and kiss the skin there, right where the muscle tightens beneath my lips.
He makes a sound, half groan, half hum, low and sleepy.
I smile to myself and kiss him again, this time letting my teeth scrape lightly against his skin.
His rough chuckle vibrates through my spine.
“Is this how you want to start our special day, sweetheart?” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep, lips brushing the shell of my ear.
Goosebumps race over my skin. I turn in his hold to face him and trail kisses from his jaw to his mouth.
He lets out a quiet roar, and in the next second, his hand is in my hair, and my body is beneath his.
We spend the next hour breathing each other in, saying goodbye to our unmarried selves in the best, most private way possible.
Later, my head rests on his chest, our bodies tangled in the sheets. My breathing is slow again, but my heart is still racing for a different reason. He looks down at me, his thumb tracing lazy circles on my shoulder.
“Like what you see?” he says.
I smile and sign back, “Very much.” His eyes travel over my face, lingering on my mouth. He lifts his hand and runs his thumb across my lower lip.
“These lips…” he mutters quietly. “Don’t move,” he commands.
His arms unfold from around me, and I watch him leave the room, barefoot and bare-backed, disappearing through the doorway.
He returns a few minutes later with a tray balanced in his hands.
The smell reaches me before he does. Toast and strawberries.
Vox sets the tray across my thighs, and I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest. There’s sliced bread, a jar of strawberry jam, a little pot of yogurt, and fresh fruit cut into strange shapes.
Some are cubes, some are hearts, some look like he tried to make stars, and I giggle at his lovely attempt.
There is even a tiny flower from the garden placed carefully in the corner of the tray.
I mouth a thank you, earning me a devilish stare.
“Eat,” he says. “I’m gonna go get dressed downstairs with Shadow.
I’ll send Erin in so you two can get ready.
” My heart squeezes. I know this was my idea.
The whole getting ready separately and see you at the ceremony thing.
I wanted to do it properly, like people do here.
But now that the moment is here, the idea of him leaving feels wrong. I reach for his wrist and sign, “Wait.”
He sits back down on the edge of the bed, his hand coming to rest over mine.
“It’s eight thirty, love. We’re getting married at eleven.
” His voice stays calm. “You’ve got plenty of time to get ready.
Everything’s taken care of. The car will be here at ten thirty to pick you up.
I’ll already be at City Hall. You can call me any time, alright?
” He leans in, one knee sinking into the mattress, and kisses me slowly, like he is trying to imprint this moment onto both of us.
My chest tightens and I regret insisting we spend the last few hours before the ceremony apart.
The panic sneaks up quickly, whispering all the what-ifs in my ear. I sign again, my hands moving fast.
“What if you don’t like the dress? What if there’s traffic and I’m late? What if something happens to the car and I can’t come and you’re waiting and—”
His hand comes up to my cheek. “Angel, don’t.
” His eyes lock on mine, grounding me. “The dress will be perfect no matter what. And if you’re late, I’ll wait.
” He pauses, and his gaze softens in that way that always makes my throat constrict.
“I’ve waited twenty-nine years to find you. I can wait a bit longer.”
My fingers tremble a little, but I nod. “Okay,” I sign.
“Hey,” he says quietly. I lift my eyes to meet his.
His hand slides to the side of my neck, fingers resting lightly over old scars, possessive in the softest way.
“You’re good, I’m good. You’re hurting, I’m hurting.
I will love you until I am nothing but bones and dust, and even after that.
You get that, angel?” He points at his chest. “The only way to make it stop is by shooting me right here.” Love and worship battle in my gaze as I take in his confession.
“Damn it, angel,” he mutters, suddenly restless.
“When you look at me like that, it makes me want to do things to you that—” He stops, leaning his forehead against mine, his hand drifting from my neck to my chin, cradling my face.
“We get married,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing mine with each word, “and then we come straight back home. ‘Cause I’ve got plans for my bride.” His voice wraps around me like electricity.
I inhale his scent, his air, all of it. I lean forward and give him a small, innocent kiss.
He welcomes it, returning it with tenderness, then pulls back with a faint wince, like breaking contact physically hurts.
“What I’d give to stay with you right now,” he sighs.
I smile and sign, “You have me for eternity. Isn’t it enough?”
His throat bobs. A small, humourless laugh escapes him. “That’s the thing, I’ll never get enough time with you.” My eyes sting again.
“I love you,” I say. His lips move, matching mine.
“I love you too, Angel.” Then he stands up fully, his gaze drifting over me one more time from head to toe like he's photographing this instant.
“Can you… Can you ask Erin to come, please?” I sign.
“Sure.” He nods, kissing me one last time. “See you in an hour, Angel,” he says as he heads for the door. I give him a small smile, and he slips out of the room like a man who just stole the moon.
“Your hands are shaking, hon,” Erin says gently.
She catches them before I even realize how bad it is.
We are standing in front of the dresser mirror in our bedroom, and I have just finished fastening the small pearl earrings Vox gave me for my birthday.
Two tiny white pearls that match my necklace and sit against my skin like little drops of light.
I meet her eyes in the mirror and try to smile.
“Nerves,” I sign, hoping she understands. Even if she doesn’t catch the exact word, the tremor in my fingers is probably enough explanation.
“I know,” she says softly, giving my hands a squeeze.
“I was the same the morning of our wedding.” Her long, dark nails rest lightly on my knuckles.
I remember pieces of the story she told me before.
How her father forbade her from marrying Shadow.
How they did it anyway, choosing each other over everything.
“It was just the two of us and a Priest,” she says with a small smile.
“I was shaking so hard I almost dropped the ring.”
“Everything will be alright,” she adds. “He loves you so much. Never seen him like this. The man’s whole universe orbits around you.
” Her words ease something tight in my chest. I nod and try to breathe more slowly.
My cream satin robe is still tied loosely at the waist. My hair is done in long, soft curls that fall over my shoulders and down my back.
Erin curled each strand with patience, humming under her breath while I watched her in the mirror.
It looks like something out of a magazine.
She did my makeup too. A little foundation, a touch of blush, mascara to darken my lashes, and a soft champagne shimmer on my eyelids.
I still look like myself, just a slightly more polished version.
Under the robe, I’m wearing a light blue lace set she helped me pick out.
“Rose?” Erin’s voice pulls me back. I blink up at her.
“I think… I think it’s time to put on the dress,” she says, her smile kind and excited at the same time.
She looks stunning herself. Her dress is a soft green that flows all the way to the floor, cinched at the waist and moving easily when she walks.
Her hair is sleek, parted to the side, the length resting over one shoulder like a dark waterfall.
Diamond earrings catch the light when she tilts her head, and her burgundy lipstick makes her look like something out of an ancient painting.
She reminds me of a mermaid I’ve seen in a movie. Beautiful and otherworldly.
My dress waits for me on the bed, my hand reaching out instinctively and gliding over the fabric. The last dress I had was plain and awful. This one is the opposite and I can’t believe it’s mine.
Erin makes her way to me, “Alright, let’s get you into this masterpiece.
” I untie the robe and let it slide off my shoulders.
Erin helps me step into the dress, lifting the fabric so I don’t trip.
The material pools around my feet first, then climbs my body as she pulls it up.
“Okay,” she says, stepping back. “Turn around.” I turn slowly, and her reaction is immediate.
“Oh. My. God,” she breathes. “Stunning, just…stunning. Vox is going to fall on his knees.”