Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
MAVERICK
T he next twelve hours went by in a blur. The moment it was decided we were getting married, Annalee whisked Emory away and said they’d need every second available to find her a suitable wedding gown. We’d agreed we would delay leaving by one day so we could get married and celebrate. One day where we could forget everything that was at stake and just find the joy in us.
I hadn’t slept a wink. No one seemed to care what I was going to wear, so after all the chaos I’d gone back to my room and lay in bed all night, thinking about my little rabbit. My wife. Driscoll had woken me up early, insisting on helping me dress, stuffing me with food, and prattling on about the importance of impressing my wife on our first night together. I mostly ignored him.
Now that the time to get married had arrived, I had no idea what to expect.
I stood on the same balcony as last night, except it had been transformed. Everyone had come together to lay garlands of flowers across the still-standing parts of the railing. Driscoll had used his earth magic to grow wisteria around the columns, and vines with vibrant pink flowers now draped the space between the columns.
Rose petals scattered across the rough, broken stone of the balcony. This was so surreal. Twenty-four hours ago, I wasn’t even sure Emory could ever look at me again. Now she was going to be my wife. Mine. The thought sent a thrill through me.
A slow, romantic harmony filled the air, and I looked over to see Annalee instructing a group of blood beetles as their music vibrated the balcony around us. She winked at me, running a hand over her checkered dress as she swayed back and forth.
Driscoll stood in front of me, and Aron and El stood in the audience.
“We don’t have a priest or priestess,” I said. They were usually the ones who presided over marriages, made sure wedding rituals set in place by the Seven Spirits were followed so that the marriage was valid.
Driscoll hefted up a heavy book that I just now realized he’d been holding. “Yeah, we scoured this thing last night. Knew you and Emory would probably be sticklers about doing it the right way and blah, blah, blah.” He patted it with his hand. “I got you covered. Your marriage will be wholly and fully sanctioned by the Seven Spirits.”
The irony behind that statement wasn’t lost on me. The Seven Spirits who we’d spent centuries worshiping that might actually have been trapped this entire time and if they just so happened to escape would reign terror on us all. I shook my head. Not thinking about that today.
“We’re ready,” Driscoll called to the back of the balcony. The heavy curtain of vines obstructing my view of the doors rustled.
Then Emory stepped out from behind them, and I couldn’t summon a single thought if I’d tried.
Her white-blonde hair hung in loose curls, just brushing her shoulders. Her pale-blue eyes danced as she met my gaze.
“Your mouth is hanging open,” Driscoll whispered.
I snapped it closed. Fucking blood and fire. I was the luckiest man in this spirits-damned world. It was tradition to wear the color of our court during wedding nuptials. I wore a fire-red tunic that Annalee had found, while Emory wore a long-sleeved glittering, sequined white dress that hugged every inch of her body. I could see the curves of her breasts, hips, ass. The dress looked like it was made from snowflakes. The same ones that flurried around us so many times over the years when we’d met to play our games.
She reached me and folded her hands into mine. Her gaze devoured me as much as I was sure mine was devouring her.
“You’re going to have to stop looking at me like that,” I murmured. “Or we won’t make it through the ceremony.”
“Patience, Bone Collector.” Her lips twitched. Little vixen. She was enjoying her effect on me far too much. “We have a whole ceremony and celebration to get through.”
A growl rumbled from my throat. Driscoll opened the book in front of us, a swath of dust rising in the air.
He waved it away. “Sorry about that!” he said cheerfully, then looked down at the book. “Okay, so we have to say the words, yada, yada, do the hand thing, then thank the spirits for allowing this blessed union, and then comes twining of the magic. Got it.” He snapped the book closed and dropped it with a thunk.
Emory and I both winced.
“What?” Driscoll asked, looking between us and the book that now lay on the balcony. “Aren’t you ready to get married?”
“It’s just . . .” Emory started.
“The book,” I finished for her.
“What about it?” Driscoll asked, eyes shifting back and forth.
“Can you pick it up and put it somewhere safe?” Emory gestured inside the castle. “You know, where the elements can’t destroy it. I kind of want to look at it later.”
“Can you also not drop a centuries-old text like that?” I added.
Driscoll rolled his eyes while Annalee hid a smile behind her hand. “It never stops with you two, does it?”
Aron stepped forward to pick up the book and tucked it gently under his arm. Emory nodded in satisfaction and set her attention back on me, her smile luminous.
The ceremony went by in a blur. I’d been to enough of them that I knew the rituals.
Still, I wouldn’t remember the words Driscoll spoke. I wouldn’t remember the thanks we gave to the spirits. I wouldn’t remember the words we repeated to complete the ritual. I would remember the magic we used. How fire and ice came together, like instead of opposites, they were actually perfect complements of each other. I would remember the smile on Emory’s face and the way it promised happiness for all our days to come. I would remember the fire in her eyes and how it flared for me and me alone. I would remember the way her grip tightened over mine, reminding me how she’d never let me go.
I wouldn’t remember most of the day, but I would remember how my heart swelled, how it felt like on this day, all my dreams had finally come true.