CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2
Santos’s expression softened. “That’s natural. You’ve gone through a lot of change in a short time.”
“You know, I used to think the world was defined by what my father allowed.” I pulled his jacket tighter around my shoulders.
“I’ve since learned otherwise.” My fingers twisted together, my rings catching moonlight.
“And through all of this, you’ve been more than just my Warden, Santos. You’ve been...” I hesitated.
His hand found mine, gentle despite its size and strength. “Family,” he offered, the word carrying weight between us. “That’s what matters. You’re family now.”
The simple declaration had me nodding, unable to find words.
My reprieve didn’t last long before a voice I had come to associate with the same feeling I got about seabass reached my ears, softly calling my name and shattering our moment. I turned slowly, watching Danielle approach flawless as always.
Santos caught my eye, a silent question in his gaze. I nodded once, giving him permission to retreat. He moved just far enough away to create the illusion of privacy while remaining within reach.
“You make a beautiful bride,” Danielle said, her voice honeyed yet somehow brittle.
“Thank you,” I replied, my words measured as currency.
She stepped closer, the scent of her perfume—too sweet, too deliberate—filling the space between us. I straightened my spine, savoring those extra inches of height that forced her to look up at me.
“We rarely speak when we see each other,” she observed.
“There’s usually a reason for that,” I countered, my smile not reaching my eyes.
Danielle tilted her head, her expression arranging itself into something that mimicked warmth. “Alaric believes we’ re natural enemies, but I’ve told him countless times— I only want your happiness. We could manage civility, couldn’t we? Perhaps even friendship, eventually.”
The timing wasn’t lost on me. This vulture had circled until I stood alone, swooping down with her hollow olive branch. Stealing minutes from the one night that belonged only to Alaric and me.
“I appreciate the sentiment, Danielle, but let’s cut the bullshit.
You still want my husband. I see it burning behind your eyes every time he walks into a room.
” I stepped closer, voice dropping to steel.
“I’ll tolerate you at functions because I must. But understand this, the Kostas name demands civility, not the charade of friendship you’re offering. ”
Her smile fractured, a porcelain mask cracking before she forced it back together. “That’s fair enough. Are you ready for tonight then? Alaric can be... savage.”
The word hung between us dripping with history and bedroom secrets. A knife aimed at my heart. I let silence fill the space, watching her squirm in it, before I leaned close enough to taste the desperation in her expensive perfume.
I smiled, leaning in just enough to make her uncomfortable. “Thank you for your concern, but Alaric and I have already explored that territory quite thoroughly. The traditions that matter remain intact.”
I let the silence between us speak volumes. Her imagination could fill in the blanks about what pleasures we’d discovered without crossing that final threshold.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “How thoughtful of him to work around your... limitations.”
Wow. The champagne must have emboldened her tonight.
I sighed. “Alaric had choices. He chose me. Not you. So whatever bitterness you’re carrying, whatever wounds you’re picking at, they’re yours alone.
This is my wedding day, and you’re standing here making a spectacle of yourself over a man who is mine now.
Find someone else to witness your heartbreak. Maybe someone who actually cares.”
She regarded me silently, her eyes hardening to glass before her lips curled into a knife-edge smile. “Have a lovely rest of your night, Mrs. Kostas.”
She pivoted with practiced grace and stalked away, the fabric of her dress snapping behind her like a whip.
I watched her retreat, the night breeze shocking my burning skin as bass from the celebration vibrated through the stone beneath my feet. She’d barely made it three steps when my sister materialized from the shadows, her lipstick smeared at one corner.
“That little performance was straight out of a bad movie,” Amara hissed. “How does it not make your skin crawl with shame?”
Danielle froze mid-step. She refused to fully turn, merely offering Amara the same razor smile before vanishing into the pulsing lights of the venue.
My sister crossed to me, gripping my wrist with fingers like steel, her eyes blazing with dark promise. “Say the word and she disappears forever. I don’t play by their precious rules anymore.”
“You might have to if you’re planning to stay long-term,” I replied with a laugh.
“Accidents happen at weddings all the time,” Santos called out, his voice deceptively light but eyes cold as a winter sea.
Amara’s eyes glinted as she squeezed my hand. “See? You have options.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, her fingertips lingering against my temple. “Besides, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, little sister.”
“I’m counting on it,” I whispered.
“There’s my bride.” Alaric’s voice drifted across the terrace like smoke.
He stood framed in the doorway, silver cufflinks catching moonlight, his smile transforming his face into something almost vulnerable. Santos and Amara exchanged a single glance before melting away—Santos returning to his post, Amara no doubt seeking some fresh mischief to antagonize our father.
Alaric moved behind me, his chest warm against my back as his arms encircled my waist. His embrace felt like coming home after a long journey, his breath against my ear carrying notes of champagne and relief.
His breath warmed my ear. “What’s going through that mind of yours?”
“Right now?” I turned just enough to catch his eyes.
“All of this.” His chin gestured toward the scene beyond the glass.
The reception glittered before us—crystal catching light, champagne bubbles rising in flutes, laughter weaving between guests, a hundred pairs of eyes that had followed our every move since morning light broke.
“Remember when I mentioned wanting a fairytale? You’ve managed to conjure one out of thin air.”
His chest vibrated against my back with quiet laughter. “I aim to please.” His grip firmed around my waist as he turned me, the celebration beyond us fading to watercolor impressions.
Something in me still faltered when I looked at him directly—the sculpted features paired with that perpetual need for contact. Though perhaps I was the addict now. His fingertips grazing mine, his palm claiming the small of my back. Each touch a fix I craved more desperately than the last.
Alaric’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I saw Danielle slip out here earlier.”
My fingertips traced the edge of his lapel, feeling the fine texture beneath my skin. “Just sharing war stories. About you.”
“I can imagine what kind.”
“The intimate kind,” I replied, studying the microexpressions crossing his face.
He bent toward me, his lips nearly grazing my ear. “She lives with ghosts now.”
“If our positions were reversed, I might too.”
His eyes darkened as he pulled back slightly, his palm warm against my cheek. “You’ll never know that particular pain. What we have ends only when they lower us both into the ground.”
A delicious shiver ran through me at the conviction in his tone.
“Such certainty,” I murmured.
The smile he gave me belonged to a man who collected victories like others collected art.
“I have no concerns about your desire to stay.”
A small laugh almost escaped me. “The Dominion doesn’t exactly offer exit strategies.”
His smile faltered slightly. “We have rules between us.”
I nodded, remembering the night he’d laid them out in crisp, no-nonsense terms.
“Those rules are irrelevant when it comes to one simple fact,” he continued, voice dropping to something so intimate it felt like he’d reached inside my chest to touch my heart. “I will never let you go.”
Something shifted in the air between us—the current of our conversation taking a darker turn. His eyes, normally so carefully controlled, burned with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“If you ever leave me,” he continued, fingertips tracing the line of my jaw, “I will bring you home. No matter what. No matter how long it takes.”
A shiver ran down my spine—not entirely unpleasant.
“How?” The question escaped before I could trap it behind my teeth.
His thumb brushed my lower lip. “By whatever means necessary.”
The words hung between us, neither threat nor promise, simply fact. In the world he moved through, possession wasn’t negotiable.
“I chose you,” I reminded him.
“And I chose you.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “The difference is that I’ve known from the moment we met exactly how far I’d go to keep what’s mine.”
Behind us, the reception continued—champagne flutes clinking, conversations buzzing, music thrumming through the floor. Yet in this corner of the terrace, reality seemed suspended, as if we existed in a pocket outside normal time.
I studied his face—the sharp cut of his jaw, the slight shadow of stubble, the single vein visible at his temple. We’d known each other for months, but in many ways, we were strangers. I’d glimpsed fragments of him—enough to know the man I’d married had parts of himself I’d barely begun to explore.
“Earlier today, I was thinking about how strange it is that I’ve only known you for just under a year.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Regret?”
“No.” I laid my palm against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath the immaculate tuxedo. “Just a fact.”
“Seven months is nothing,” he said, covering my hand with his. “We have lifetimes ahead of us.”
“Lifetimes,” I echoed, wondering if he meant it literally.
His eyes, so startling in their intensity, never left mine as he lowered his head. “Forever,” he whispered against my lips.
When he kissed me, it was with devastating tenderness—as though beneath my skin lay something infinitely precious he feared bruising.
I leaned into him, arms finding their way around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape.
His hands settled at my waist, fingertips pressing into silk with barely contained restraint.
Around us, the world continued its orbit—champagne flowed, cake was cut, and somewhere inside the reception hall, Dominions celebrated our union with calculated enthusiasm.
But in this moment, none of it mattered.
Not my father’s grim presence, not Danielle’s spite, not even the dark promises Alaric had just made.