Twenty-Two
Liam
The weight of Raina's small hand in mine felt like the most natural thing in the world as we strolled down the winding path. Her grip was firm, the chill of her skin a stark yet comforting contrast to my own warmth.
The forest was thick with mystical power, the kind that whispered of ancient vows and unbreakable bonds. This area, deep in the heart of Ephandor, was sacred to the clan.
The closer we got to the Sanctum Annexus, the stronger the magic felt. Memories surged through me, snapshots of earlier in the day when anticipation for this journey had thrummed violently under my skin.
My mother had sensed it. And had taken advantage.
“Idiot," Mother said, fist connecting with my shoulder.
She'd appeared out of nowhere, having hurried home at Brahm's behest. Otsonna Duersi never could resist a dramatic entrance, especially for something as monumental as her youngest son getting hitched.
"Ow," I protested, rubbing the spot with mock hurt. "Is that any way to treat your son on his special day?"
"Yes. Especially when I’ve been informed he’s been behaving like an imbecile," she countered.
"Love you too, Mother," I responded, earning myself an eye roll and an embrace that smelt of cinnamon and spice. Of my childhood.
Done with me, she whipped her long, dark copper hair around to face my bride-to-be, clasping Raina by her shoulders.
“You precious thing! You've made my heart so full today, bringing such joy to my Liam."
Raina's poised response, a smile lifting the corners of her lips, didn't betray the nerves I knew she harbored when it came to my mother. "It is I who should be thankful, Dróttning Otsonna. Your son has given me a happiness I thought was lost."
Mother laughed, a rich sound I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. "Well then, let's see if we can add to that happiness by getting you ready as quickly as possible."
She took Raina's hand, much like a warrior would claim a shield, protective and firm. "I shall take over as your mother now, for the day at least. There are things I never got to do with my sons, like fuss over pretty dresses and the like."
Mother had a gleam in her eye that I recognized all too well. It was the same one she'd used on me and Gunnar whenever we were about to be subjected to some unexpected lesson in our youth.
Their laughter faded into the distance, and for a moment, I was left adrift in the quiet. Yet, there was warmth in the knowledge that Raina had always held a place in my mother's fierce heart, a place I knew she'd always longed for, even as she stood unyielding with her own parents.
Raina squeezed my hand, bringing me back to the present, to the hallowed space where our lives would merge. Our strides halted just outside the entrance of the sanctum.
Its arches towered above us, carved by the hands of berserkers long turned to dust. I never thought I’d be pledging myself to her inside. Not even when we were betrothed.
The plan had been to put on a huge affair at Snowfall Manor. My parents had no interest in such a thing, but they would have gone along with it for Raina’s sake.
Shaking off the dregs of things best left in the past, I looked down at my stunning bride.
My frost nymph was a vision. Dressed in a flowing ice blue gown that shimmered in the light, it hugged her curves in all the right places and made it difficult to keep my hands off her.
The intricate snowflake lacework danced along the edges, making it look like frost was inching up the skirt and sleeves. Her pale hair was intricately braided in an updo, adorned with delicate flowers. It was clearly my mother’s handiwork.
As for myself, I was in traditional head to toe black with polished red-brown leather boots and matching belt. My cloak was held together with a thick clasp shaped with my family’s insigne—the paw of a bear.
Only this particular clasp was unique from others. This particular clasp was designed so the paw was holding a flower. A snowdrop, to be exact.
Mother had it made two years ago and had held onto it, along with her hope for me and Raina to find our way back to one another.
"Ready, flower?" I checked, in earnest.
"You have no idea," she replied.
I couldn't help but chuckle at that. “Oh, I think I might.”
Together, we stepped through the archway into the Sanctum Annexus. The sight that greeted us was something out of a dream. Delicate purple and white flowers twined around pillars. Lush greenery spilled from alcoves, and soft candlelight flickered, casting a dance of shadows and light across the stone.
Neither of us desired the spectacle that came with unions between those who considered themselves aristocratic. Yet, standing here amidst the intimate splendor, I couldn't help wanting this moment to be special for her.
This wedding would be small even by common standards.
"Do you like it?" I murmured, drawing her close as we both took in the beauty wrought by hurried hands and loving intentions.
Her violet eyes, usually so reserved and still, sparkled with unshed tears as they met mine. "Oh, Liam. It's perfect,” her voice a whisper of awe.
A surge of relief—and yes, pride—washed over me. And in that instant, beneath the benevolent gaze of the gods and surrounded by the enchantment of this sacred place, I knew our path was true.
"Perfect for us," I agreed, my voice steady despite the emotion that threatened to spill over. "Just as it should be."
Raina's slender fingers tightened around mine. "The Dróttning has outdone herself," she whispered.
"She has," I agreed.
We moved further into the sanctum, the dais framing a scene straight from a painting. An arc of familiar silhouettes stood arrayed against the backdrop of the Shrine of Lofn. Each person was a thread in the tapestry of my life.
And Raina’s more recent history.
Father, donning his usual stern countenance, stood next to my mother, her hands finally still after all the preparations. Gunnar, whose teasing smirk contradicted the warmth in his eyes, stood at the Dróttning’s opposite shoulder.
Nox, dark and brooding yet visibly content, had his arm around his mate. Then there was Lorne, reliable and sturdy as a mountain.
Sofiya was next to him, her amber eyes aglow, a stark contrast to Lorne’s cool grey ones. I hoped Lorne didn’t fuck up things with the female, as was his tendency.
Astrid, such a resplendent warrior light fae, stood with an arm linked through Mirrelle’s. I was sure my brother was fighting with himself to not drag the blood fae to his side.
When my eyes met Saxon’s, a teasing glint was directed my way. His hand was resting on Fermac’s head, the canine looking clean and brushed for once.
And last, just beyond the warhound, was Sage, my little sister in all but blood.
Their smiles spoke wordlessly, infusing the temple with a sense of familial bonds. More than just a gathering of bodies, these were the beings who had our backs, who would go to battle for us, most of whom already had.
In the middle of the loved ones who came to bear witness was the Gothi. His hand, rough and gnarled like the ancient oaks of Ephandor from a tussle with a poisonous creature long before my father had taken over, gestured us forward.
He wrapped a silver-threaded cord around our hands, binding us in the eyes of Lofn. When he recited an ancient verse in a long-dead language, the cord began to glow.
“Now is the time to make your pledge,” he told me.
“Before the gods and these witnesses," I avowed, the words heavy on my tongue, "I, Liam of the Duersian Clan, take thee, Raina, heart of winter's chill and warrior's spirit, to be my wife."
My voice broke with the weight of emotions long suppressed. "To stand with you against all foes, to cherish the fire in your soul, and to honor the blood and tears that have paved the path to this moment."
“And now you,” the Gothi instructed.
Raina’s gaze never wavered, her purple eyes shimmering pools of light amidst the sanctum’s shadowed hush. "I, Raina, born of frost and nurtured by the solitude of the peaks, take thee, Liam, son of forest and guardian of the realm, to be my husband. To weave my life with yours, to offer my blade and breath in your defense, and to hold our love as sacred as the eternal ice from whence I came."
The Gothi's nod was imperceptible, yet it unleashed the magic we’d woven together with our words.
"By the power vested in me by the ancient rites of Ephandor, I pronounce you husband and wife." His voice, a whisper lost to time, somehow carried the weight of eons. "May your union be as unyielding as the mountains, and as endless as the stars."
Our lips met, and magic, tangible and wild, spiraled into the air. It encased us in a whirlwind of luminescence, the energy of our bond manifesting in the physical realm.
It was proof, if any were needed, that what we shared was more than mere emotion. It was elemental, as real as earth and sky.
The cord fell away, its purpose served, but the connection it symbolized remained.
The clamor of jubilation filled the temple. I squeezed Raina's hand, feeling the strength in her delicate fingers. A possessive thrill surged through me.
She was mine, truly mine, and no force in this realm or any other could rend us asunder now.
“I love you, flower.”
“I love you, too.”
As was custom, we departed the way we came. Stepping outside, we were greeted by the embrace of the sun. It cast a halo-like glow as it reflected off Raina’s hair. My wife’s hair.
It was the wrong time to think it, but I couldn’t wait to fuck her and make her call me husband when she came.
"Son," my father said, embracing me with the gentleness of a battering ram. "You've chosen well and I am proud of you."
I could only nod, the lump in my throat denying me speech.
He turned to Raina. "You're part of this clan now. Part of our family. Whenever you need a father, I will be him, just as I am for my sons.”
Mother shouldered him away, her presence as commanding as ever. "And I will be here, too," she declared. “Whatever you need, you only have to ask.”
"Thank you," Raina told them, true appreciation in her tone. “I … please forgive me for not having the words.”
My mother hugged my wife and my father bent to kiss her on top of her head. Raina would never be lonely again, not if I could help it.
It was then that Gunnar stepped forward, his wide shoulders briefly eclipsing the sun's warmth.
"Brother," he rumbled, and wrapped me in an embrace that threatened to squeeze the breath from my lungs.
His voice was low in my ear, but the words he whispered were ancient, threaded with the magic of our ancestors. "May your bond be as unyielding as the roots of Yggdrasil, and your love as enduring as the stars."
I pulled back, the gravity of his words leaving a lump in my throat. Here was my battle-hardened asshole of a brother, the heir of the Duersian Clan, quietly giving me his blessing.
Not for show, not to impress, but because he meant it.
Gunnar turned toward Raina, the lines of his face softening. "Sister," he declared. "Welcome to the fold, now and forever."
Raina's smile bloomed. "Thank you, Gunnar.”
“Brother,” he corrected.
The smile she gave him was one of genuine adoration, a mirror to the devotion that had captured my own heart.
“Brother,” she conceded.
No sooner had they parted than our circle of friends swarmed around us, their laughter and jests piercing the solemnity of the moment.
"Congratulations on pulling your head out your ass," Lorne barked, clapping my shoulder with enough force to stagger a lesser man.
"Watch it, or you'll dislocate his arm before the wedding night," Aeryn teased.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Lorne replied with a wink.
"Congratulations, you two," Sofiya chimed in, embracing Raina in a bear hug, one Raina returned just as adamantly.
"Oh, let them breathe," Mirrelle scolded playfully, though her own embrace was nearly as tight as my brother’s.
Speaking of, I noticed him tracking the object of his desire’s movements, his jaw set and an obvious longing in his eyes. My brother had it bad.
"Well, well, well," Saxon teased, draping an arm over both Raina's and my shoulders, pulling us into the fold. "Looks like it all worked out. Just like I wanted it to."
Raina and I laughed because, of course, Saxon would try to take credit. Though, he was a demigod … no. I wasn’t even going to entertain the thought.
The laughter and chattering of our loved ones continued and I found myself reaching for my wife. “You were too far away, wife. I’m done sharing you.”
Raina lifted her arms around my neck. “Husband, you will never have to share me. I’m yours and only yours.”
“The reality of us being married is still sinking in.”
She sighed. “I know. But I find calling you husband quite satisfying.”
My cock twitched. “And I find the urge to whisk you away and claim you a thousand times. As much as I love them, I want to be alone with you. Preferably naked.”
"Ahem." The unmistakable sound of my father clearing his throat cut through the haze of my desire. “We still have the matter of the reception your mother and I planned. On extremely short notice, I might add.”
A reminder that, while Raina was indeed my wife, there were eyes on us, traditions to honor, and time enough later for the consummation of vows.
"Right," I muttered, setting Raina down but keeping her close, my smile rueful.
"Later," I whispered to Raina.
The decking of Speirhaus shimmered with what looked like a thousand tiny fae lanterns. Revelry and the clinking of glasses echoed through the trees as the small assembly celebrated.
I raised my own, the crystal catching the light, casting prisms on Raina's fair skin.
"A toast,” I called out, “to my beautiful wife.”
The noise dropped as they all turned, not to me, but to Raina, lifting their glasses, as well.
“To her future, as the sun follows its course, I follow hers. To her dreams, as the moon follows its course, I follow hers.”
A few murmurs of agreement came across the deck.
“And to her enemies, as her wrath carves its course, I follow hers.”
Whoops and shouts rose up and a few dark laughs.
"Here's to my wife," I continued, "may she always be by my side, in battles and in peace, in darkness and in light. To Raina Duersi!"
Glasses lifted and a chorus of, “Here, here!” rang out.
As the last echoes of the toast faded into the shadows, the air shifted, a new melody threading through the trees—the haunting call of string instruments.
I extended my hand to my wife. Raina's fingers slid into mine and I led her away from the others.
We swayed, slow and measured. Her head rested against my chest and I could feel the soft sigh of her breath through the fabric of my shirt.
One song turned into two, two into three. We stayed apart from the others, in our own perfect moment.
“Liam?”
“Yes, wife?”
Her smile, one of pure happiness, undid me.
“Wife. I like you calling me that.”
“I like saying it.”
“Pick me up.”
Puzzled, I did as she commanded so our faces were even. “Better, wife?”
“No, husband,” she shook her head with faux sadness.
“What do you need?”
Raina pressed her lips to my ear and asked me for something that froze my movements.
“Now?” I asked.
“Immediately.”
“You read my fucking mind, flower.”
I spun to look at our family and friends. “Thankyouwelovegoodnight!”
As quickly as I could, I opened a portal to the master suite of Blómhaus.
Because as her desires followed their course, I followed hers. Forever and always.