Chapter 13
Dayan
Two weeks after Akyl’s wedding, we stand in the garden behind my house as the sun dips low and turns everything gold.
The stone terrace is dotted with fairy lights, a handful of chairs, my brothers and their new wives, Amelia’s mother, father and sister standing quietly to one side.
The contrast to the dinner where we first crossed paths is deliberate.
That night had been an arrangement. Business. This is real life, beautiful and true.
I wait at the end of the short aisle of scattered white petals.
The air is cool, carrying the scent of early roses and the faint warmth of early summer evenings.
Serik stands at my shoulder, uncharacteristically quiet.
Rovin watches from the front row like a man who has finally seen all five of his brothers settle into the future he demanded.
Volody and Akyl flank him, their wives tucked close.
Amelia’s mother dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief.
Cecily looks steadier than I’ve seen her since the dossier tore her careful plans apart.
Then Amelia appears.
She walks toward me alone, no one giving her away because she made it clear this choice was hers and hers alone.
The dress she chose hugs every line of her body, sleek, minimalist, the low back baring skin I already know by heart.
Her brown hair is swept up with loose pieces curling at her neck.
She is not smiling the polite, careful smile I first saw at Pietty’s dinner. She is radiant.
My chest tightens in a way no bullet or deal ever managed. I have faced down rooms full of armed men without flinching, but watching this woman walk to me of her own free will nearly undoes me.
She stops in front of me. Her blue eyes lock on mine, steady and bright. The officiant begins, short, simple words we both agreed on, but I barely hear them. All I see is her.
When it’s time for the vows, she goes first. Her voice is clear, warm, carrying that dry British edge I have come to crave.
“I choose you, Dayan. Not because anyone arranged it or because it was safe or expected. I choose you because you trusted me with the choice, protected those I loved before you even know them, and asked me every single day what I wanted. I will stand beside you. I will build this life with you. Whatever comes, we face it together.”
She slips the ring onto my finger. Heavy platinum that fits snug enough to remind me it’s never coming off.
The officiant nods to me.
I have always been the silent one. One-word answers and letting others fill the quiet spaces. But not today.
I take both her hands in mine. They look small against my scarred knuckles. I speak low, but every word is meant to carry.
“Amelia. From the moment you looked at me across that table and didn’t flinch, I knew.
I wrote your name in my blood because I saw my future in your eyes.
I will never lie to you. I will never lock you away.
I will burn whatever stands between you and the life you want.
I want you as my wife. I want to fill this house with our children.
I want to watch you grow round with them and hold your hand through every night and every fight and every joy.
Your sharp edges, your fire, your laugh in the morning…
I want all of it. Every day. Until I stop breathing.
You are not a prize I won. You are the only woman who has ever made the silence feel like home.
I am yours. Completely. Protectively. Forever. ”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears, but she doesn’t look away.
I slide the ring onto her finger, set with a single deep blue sapphire the color of her eyes at midnight. It fits perfectly.
The officiant pronounces us husband and wife.
I don’t wait for permission. I pull her against me and kiss her like the first night in the car, like the morning she rode me until we both broke, like every moment since.
Grateful I can finally call her my wife.
She kisses me back just as fiercely, her fingers curling into my shirt the way they did that very first time.
The small gathering applauds. Serik whistles. Cecily laughs through tears. Even Amelia’s mother claps, though her expression is still a careful mix of acceptance and lingering worry.
We sign the papers quickly. No fanfare. When it is done, I keep her hand in mine as we turn to face the others.
My brothers step forward one by one. Rovin first, pulling us both into a brief, crushing embrace that says more than words ever could.
The women surround Amelia, laughing and hugging.
I watch her glow under their attention, the same way she glowed at Rovin’s dinner weeks ago. She belongs here. With them. With me.
Later, after dinner and toasts and the quiet departure of our families, we are finally alone.
I carry her up the stairs to our bedroom, the same room where we first came together, and will do forever more. Moonlight spills across the bed. I set her down gently and take my time with the zipper of her dress, kissing every inch of skin I uncover. She shivers under my mouth.
“Wife,” I murmur against her shoulder.
“Husband.” Her voice is husky, happy. She turns in my arms and pushes my jacket off, fingers working my shirt buttons with familiar impatience. “Say it again.”
“I am yours.” I lift her onto the bed, following her down. “Forever.”
We move together slowly at first, reverent. I worship every curve, every sound she makes, every time she whispers my name like a vow of her own. When I finally sink into her, deep and bare and home, she arches beneath me with a broken moan.
“Dayan—”
“I know.” I thrust slow and powerful, pinning her wrists above her head so I can watch her face. “I feel it too.”
We don’t last long. The day, the vows, the promise of everything ahead, it all crashes over us.
She comes first, clenching around me, crying out as her body shakes.
I follow seconds later, burying myself as deep as I can go and filling her with pulse after pulse, whispering filthy promises of the children we will make, the life we will build.
Afterward we lie tangled, her head on my chest, my hand resting possessively over her lower belly the way it has every night since the beginning.
She traces one of the scars on my ribs. “No regrets?”
“None.” I kiss her hair. “You?”
She laughs softly, the sound vibrating through me. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”
I roll us so she is tucked beneath me again. “Then let’s keep choosing each other. Every day.”
“Team Ameyan,” she whispers, already sleepy, already mine.
“Team Daylia,” I counter, then realize neither of these team names sound ferocious enough for me to actually use.
For the first time in my life, the silence feels complete.