Epilogue
The delicate scentof fragrant flowers drifted on the cool evening breeze. Hundreds of lanterns illuminated Josephine Steele’s rose garden. While Dove and Marcus already shared a blood bond, they’d decided they wanted more.
Moments ago, they’d joined their lives together in a non-traditional faerie ceremony. Something Marcus imagined had never been done before. His barefoot Bride was a trailblazer. He suspected she’d made it up as she went along, using her talisman to exchange a piece of their souls.
Their reception was an intimate gathering of close friends. The larger celebration with House Othonos would have to wait.
Tonight, Marcus wanted to focus on his Bride.
“Do you think the confetti cannons were too much?” Dove peered up at him, wearing a simple bohemian shift dress with tiny flowers tucked into her silver locks.
He pulled her closer, swaying as they danced to the sounds of a string quartette.
“It was perfect.”
She scrunched her pert little nose. “Poor Armond barely got through our vows.”
Dove’s friend had officiated their ceremony, sniveling his way through most of it. Marcus glanced over his Bride’s shoulder. Family and friends surrounded them. Ida stood beside his groundskeeper, Archie, dabbing a crisp hankie beneath her eyes.
Vivian, Dove’s former benefactor, was there as well. At her side was a male so massive he looked as if he could give Bishop a run for his money. Apparently, Vivian and her bodyguard were mated. Marcus didn’t envy the male. The retired burlesque dancer was a handful and more than most men could handle. Liam was in for one hell of a ride.
The heavy clomp of uncoordinated feet and a yelp of pain over crunched toes came from the couple dancing beside them. Clutched in the tension-riddled arms of a former super heavyweight champion was a curvy witch with stars in her eyes. Marcus caught the expression of misery on Bishop’s rugged face and coughed on a laugh.
“Bishop!” Dove chirped. “I didn’t know you could dance.”
“He can’t.” Celeste beamed, undeterred by her partner’s plodding gait. “Not yet, at least. But he’ll be smoother than Fred Astaire after the ballroom dance class he’s taking with me.”
“The what?” Marcus croaked, laughter threatening to undo him.
“I owed her a debt,” Bishop grumbled, red tinting his cheeks.
“For the bath bomb in the arena,” Celeste stated, a possessive gleam in her eyes. “Every Tuesday and Friday night, he’s all mine.”
“That sounds wonderful, Celeste.” Dove sighed. “So romantic.”
“Isn’t it?” Celeste massaged the shoulder of her reluctant partner. “Now, spin me, you fool, before you lose me forever,” she teased.
“Gods forbid,” Bishop grated through gritted teeth and swung the delighted witch across the dance floor.
“We are so sneaking in to watch those lessons,” Marcus said.
“Agreed.” Dove laughed. Her happiness infectious.
Farther outside the circle of guests, Marcus caught sight of a dark-haired apparition who lingered among the roses. Static prickled down the back of his neck and his breath hitched.
“What’s wrong?” Dove followed the direction of his shocked stare. “Josephine.” She gasped, her tone full of wonder.
When he remained speechless, she tightened her grip on his shoulder. “You can see her?”
“Yes,” he whispered, stunned to lay eyes on his mother after so many years. Emotion squeezed his throat.
“Perhaps you’ve gained more than a sliver of my soul during the ceremony. Either that or it’s Shadow’s gift to you.”
Before he could go to her, his mother blew him a kiss before fading into the twilight.
Dove sighed. “I think she’s at rest now.”
“I hope so.”
“I can’t believe you saw her. It makes me curious.”
Marcus turned to her, arching a brow.
Dove caressed his cheek. “Shadow?” As she drew her hand back, dark spirals curled around her wrist.
“My queen,” the demon purred.
Dove gasped. “I heard him in my head.”
Seemed that bonding ceremony had done more than either of them expected.
“Don’t encourage him. If his ego gets any bigger, he will no longer fit.” The bastard had never been so content.
“Who, me?” Dove smirked. “Never.”
Slim fingers tapped Marcus’s shoulder, and he peered at his old friend.
“May I cut in?” Vivian asked, claiming Dove’s hand.
“Certainly.” Marcus bowed to her, handing over his Bride.
“Mon coeur, I cannot believe you organized all of this while starting your new business. I’m so happy for you.”
“It’s been a lot of responsibility to take on but so worth it. My time of sitting on the sidelines has passed.”
Dove had made quite a name for herself when she’d revealed Zion’s identity. With Dove’s newfound fame, she planned to become a consultant to the spirit world, believing too much of it was misunderstood. She intended to use her celebrity to bring about change. The fact she’d also ended his life remained a secret since Marcus feared the underworld’s reaction to the news. While Tiberius’s remains were found on the roof, none knew the cause of his death.
Marcus missed Vivian’s response, giving them space. He moved to stand next to Bishop.
“Where’s your partner?” he teased.
“I lied and said my injuries were flaring up and needed a break.”
“Ah. Well played.” Thankfully, Bishop was fully recovered from his battle with the feral werewolf.
“You’re a lucky man,” Bishop said to him, watching Dove and Vivian dance.
“In many ways,” Marcus agreed. All the charges against him had been dropped, not that there was anyone left to persecute him. Thanks to his uncle, both the Council and High Court were in disarray.
Despite his demon possession, Marcus had retained his position as lord. With all the uncertainty, his clan was against change. Like most, they feared what the future may hold, preferring someone familiar to lead them during this turbulent time. For now, at least, they were willing to accept Marcus and Shadow as a package deal.
The underworld had had its proverbial feet knocked out from under it. No one was certain when order would be restored and what it may look like.
Regardless, tonight, he was living in the moment. Not the past, nor future, but right here. Right now, with the woman who brightened his darkest days.
Dove returned to him, pure joy in the gentle contours of her face.
Leaving their party behind, they joined hands, strolling deeper into the garden. Fireflies twinkled around them, the effect spellbinding, but nowhere near as beautiful as his Bride.
“Such a wonderful night,” Dove said. “I’m afraid the peace and quiet won’t last. It’s the end of an era.”
“No, my love. It’s the beginning.” Predatory urges rose inside of him, shadows whirling.
“Run, my little firefly,” he purred, releasing her hand. “To the greenhouse. I’ll count to thirty.”
Dove peered back at him, anticipation gleaming in her eyes. “Catch me if you can.”
“It will be my pleasure.”