Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Three days later
The radio crackles once, then goes silent.
That’s how I know they’ve crossed the ridge.
I stand at the window of the cabin in nothing but a black silk robe and bare feet, the valley stretches out beyond the glass like it’s holding its breath with me.
The grass is still wet from last night’s rain, the mountains washed clean, and the sky pale and open.
Mine now. I still can’t believe it. The deed sits folded neatly in my mother’s vanity.
“Two minutes,” Bear says from the kitchen, peering out with a mug in his hand like just another morning.
“Silver Dodge, one older male and female. Two college kids who look like they think they’re invincible,” Jett murmurs, one eye dialed into his scope from the living room window.
I snort softly. “They’ll grow out of that.”
Boots weigh against the creaking floor behind me before a steady hand slips around my shoulder.
Nyx doesn’t say anything, he turns me gently, studying my face.
His eyes rake across me like I’m something he’s memorizing before it changes shape.
Not like a man watching his bride. Like a man watching a beautiful mountain storm decide where to land. And I love it.
“They think I sell weapons,” I say, more to the room than to him.
“Technically, that’s not wrong,” Nina mutters from the table. She carefully places Indian Paintbrush flowers onto a tray. “You’ve handled enough of them.”
I glance at her. She grins, then lifts both hands in surrender when Cici shoots her a look.
She reaches for my arm, squeezing once. “We’ve got the story covered. You’ve drilled it into us a million times, Flossie.”
I nod, exhaling shakily. “I know. I know. I think I’m just trying to remind myself at this point. A traveling firearm consultant. That’s believable, right?”
Bear snorts, plopping down beside Cici. “A consultant of death.”
Cici swats him as Nina giggles from the table.
“Enough,” Nyx growls, his chest vibrating beneath my fingertips.
I beam brightly, shifting on my tip toes. I can’t wait to marry this man. The sound of tires crunching on fresh gravel carries into the room. My chest tightens.
“You ready?” Jett asks.
I nod. I’ve been ready since the day I stepped from the gap. “Go,” I tell my team. “Be normal. As normal as you get.”
Bear laughs. “The reaper and the vanguard are standing at the altar today—normal’s off the table darlin’.”
They clear out, voices carrying onto the porch.
“Aunt Cici!” Ellie squeals as the door closes.
“There’s my boy!” Bear yells, barreling towards Todd.
Nyx leans in, pressing a careful kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to go help your dad and Rosemary. Are you going to be okay?”
Ana appears behind me, already adjusting the tie of my robe. “She’s in good hands. Now shoo.” She throws her hand, waving him off. Then, Ana reaches for my hand guiding me to my bedroom.
Miss Onida stands at the edge of the bed, my dress laid out before her like something holy.
Hand-stitched. Every seam intentional. The dress is soft spoken elegance, it’s crafted from a light, flowing chiffon that drapes effortlessly.
She stares at her craft, her eyes drifting tenderly to me with the same admiration.
“Arms,” Miss Onida murmurs, gathering it from the bedspread.
I obey, dropping my robe.
She draws the dress up and over, smoothing it down my torso with practiced hands. My feet flow to the mirror, stopping short of my reflection in the oval mirror of the vanity. I gasp. The bodice is defined by a deep V-neckline, not sharp or daring, but graceful and elongated.
The fabric gathers subtly beneath the bust, creating soft pleats that feel romantic rather than structured.
At the empire waist, the dress cinches gently with a band of delicate floral lace embroidery, pale and understated.
The lace doesn’t overpower, it just whispers, giving the dress a quiet soul.
The sleeves are long and sheer, billowing softly from the shoulders narrowing at the wrists. They’re almost translucent, like morning mist, finished with intricate lace cuffs that echo the embroidery at the waist. Vintage and timeless. The color is warm, creamy ivory, just like I asked.
“I made it to move with you,” she says quietly, reading me. “Not to tame you,” she adds chuckling.
My throat tightens. I nod once. Ana steps behind me, not bothering to wipe away the flow of tears down her cheeks.
She’s calm, focused, the way she gets when it matters.
She begins finishing my hair. The braid is thick, woven low at the back of my head, strong but not fussy.
A warrior’s braid disguised as something elegant.
She slides a bobby pin between her lips, fingers lifting a loose curl before tucking it back into place. Rosemary steps into the room carrying the finished line of Indian paintbrush flowers, their fiery red-orange petals glowing against the greenery and baby’s breath.
“Oh, these fit you perfect,” Ana sighs. Together, they begin weaving a handful of the blossoms into the braid, tucking each stem carefully beneath the woven strands. Gentle hands work side by side, adjusting the flowers until they look as though they’ve bloomed there naturally.
“Mom?” A voice squeaks from the door.
The women move with me as I sprint to Ellie, embracing her tightly into my arms. “I’ve missed you so much.” My voice cracks. “Thank you so much for coming.”
A snort sounds from behind her. “Are you kidding?” Todd shoves past, lifting me from the floor and spinning me around.
I laugh as he twirls me, holding tight to my baby boy. “I kept looking out the window the whole drive, just in case pigs started flying. We would never miss our mom’s wedding day.”
I roll my eyes, smoothing my dress back down.
“You look beautiful, Mom, we’re so happy for you,” Ellie breathes, taking my hand.
“We’ll give you three some privacy,” says Miss Onida, reaching for Ana’s elbow as they exit the bedroom. Rosemary hovers in the doorway for a moment, tears swelling in her eyes. “We’ll see you soon,” she says, then slips out behind Ana.
I dab my eyes, attempting not to smear Cici’s artwork. “Are you sure? I mean, are you guys really okay with this I mean?—”
Ellie lifts her hand, silencing my rambling. “Mom, we want this for you. We’re proud of you. Not because you’re getting married.” She shakes her head. “But because you finally chose something for yourself.”
Todd exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “You spent our whole lives making sure we were okay. It’s kind of incredible watching you let someone else do that for you now.”
I smile, leading them to my bed. As we sit down, I gather their hands in my lap, searching for the right words.
Todd’s grin softens. “I mean it, you know,” he says quietly. “We grew up watching you do everything. You never complained. You never asked for help.”
Ellie cuts in. “You didn’t just raise us.
You carried us.” I swallow, pressing a kiss to each of their hands.
“And then there’s Nyx,” she continues. “Every dinner we’ve had, I notice the same thing.
” My brow arches. “He doesn’t take the center of the table.
He doesn’t steer the conversation. He just… sits there”
I wave my hand. “Well, he just likes to let us catch up.”
Todd shakes his head. “No, he sits there like a rock.”
“Like an anchor.” Ellie corrects gently. “He watches you talk. Like he’s proud to even be breathing the same air.”
I feel the heat creep up my neck. “You two are very observant.”
“It’s obvious,” Todd adds. “You’re the light in the room, mom. And instead of trying to compete with that, he lets you shine.”
Ellie’s smile is reassuring as she squeezes my fingers. “He’s steady. You’ve never been able to stop moving— you raised us that way. And he doesn’t ask you to be smaller or quieter, or safer.”
I gulp at the last word.
Todd shrugs. “He just makes sure you don’t have to hold the whole world by yourself anymore.”
Ellie nods. “We’ve watched you be the strong one our entire lives.” Her voice lowers. “Watching Nyx stand there, solid, while you’re fully yourself… someone we haven’t been able to see in so long…” She trails off, swallowing hard. “It feels right.”
Todd picks at my sleeve playfully. “It took a long time. But honestly? If it hadn’t taken that long, it wouldn’t be this.
” Their words settle into me, heavy and tender.
“He matches you. Which is… not easy.” I huff a quiet laugh.
“He doesn’t rush you,” Todd adds. “And he doesn’t slow you down either. He just keeps pace.”
From across the room, Nyx catches my eye. He’s not listening. Not intruding. Just there. Steady and anchoring, like they said. I didn’t wait too long for this. But I’ve waited long enough.