Chapter 52 Monroe
MONROE
Iblow through the breeze, shifting into my bunny form when I reach the edge of City Center.
While nudity isn’t exactly unusual around here, something about running in my underwear with my mate chasing me doesn’t seem appropriate for children or the general Bloom public.
Bounding down the back alleyway lined with narrow shops, I pass each painted door and open entryway until I’m at the hedge wall.
The thud of boots disappears, replaced by the soft brush of footpads. I don’t dare look back, though.
I zip ahead and pounce onto the stone slab in front of The Warren.
If I thought the door was huge before, in this form, it’s ginormous.
It groans open, and I dash inside. Tossing a quick glance over my shoulder, I spot a chestnut rabbit tumbling into the wood as it snicks shut.
Fur retracts, bones and organs adjust, and my body returns to normal size.
Palms pressed to the door, I give myself a second to catch my breath, then take off down the lamplit tunnel.
Behind me, the door hinges creak, followed by the thud-thud-thud of footsteps.
“You coming, Sir Thumps-A-Lot?” I huff. “It’s almost like you don’t want to—”
Caught around my waist, I shriek, legs sweeping from the ground.
I’m cradled within strong arms and the muscular panes of Briar’s chest, held against the tunnel’s prickly wall.
I think he’s going to set me down, but instead, he repositions me so my legs wrap around his waist. Tiny branches scratch my back as Briar runs his nose up the side of my throat. “Almost like I don’t want to what?”
“Did I say something? I can’t remember now.” The last few minutes are a blur in comparison to the very solid and very hard part of Briar sandwiched between us. I reach down and swipe the string of precum leaking from its head, sucking it off the pad of my finger.
“Keep doing that and I’ll make us late for a very important date.”
I giggle, but it’s cut off at the pronounced curl of his hips grazing my clit. My walls clench around nothing, and I rasp into his ear. “Claim me, Sir Th—”
He hushes me with the brush of his lips, and his hips coax the pressure nestled in my pelvis.
Each kiss becomes more fervent, and I vaguely sense the earth blurring beneath us.
His tongue drawing decadent designs along my throat, I drop my head back, the hedge tunnel and hanging lanterns whipping past. A canine drags across the base of my neck, sparks of pleasure left in its wake.
When I lift my head back up, we’re in The Nestling Fields and its pure carnal chaos. Music plays overhead, but it does little to stifle the grunts, groans, and smacking of bodies. “Are we too late?”
“There’s no such thing as too late when it comes to our bond,” Briar whispers against my skin. “What’s a few minutes when I’d wait an eternity for you?”
He heads for the only empty bed that’s situated by the row of chiffon tents.
Lanterns and twinkle lights glitter from above, golden illumination dancing over the Blooms amid their bacchanal.
Not everyone is fully engaged, despite the guests of honor all happily in the horny haze of their claiming.
Around the outskirts of the event, onlookers enjoy food and drink or stand with fists drawn at their sides, as if trying to restrain themselves as long as possible.
A few of them, along with others mid-fuckery, cast curious glances in our direction.
“Looks like we have an audience,” I whisper as Briar sets me reverently on the canvas-covered dais, careful to avoid the soil.
“Is that going to be okay?” he asks, kneeling in front of me. “While the rites are commonly done in view of everyone, I’m happy to take you into one of those tents if you’d prefer.”
“No.” I swallow my nerves. “I want them to see.”
The idea of watching and being watched always intrigued me, at least in a fictional sense.
An outdoor play party with a bunch of bunny shifter immortals?
I can’t say that’s something I ever envisioned.
But immortals have an eternity to explore themselves and each other.
There is no need to rush when you have forever, and I can’t wait to experience it all with my mate.
“Look at you embracing your Bloom roots.” His body twitches, but his face remains calm and full of reassurance. He rests a palm on my thigh. “If you change your mind at any time—”
“I promise I’ll tell you.” I take his hand and thumb over the rose petals covering his knuckles.
“Are you ready to begin?” Roxy’s cheery voice filters from behind me. In a thin robe, she walks up alongside Kendrick, who pulls the papers I left them from his pocket.
“Thanks for taking over for me.”
“You betcha,” Kendrick says, glancing at the two of us with a smug grin. “Worked out for the best, I’d say.”
I smile in return.
Roxy instructs us to hold hands, asking if we need her to go through the vows. Both of us decline. We’ve spent months researching and preparing for this day, even if we hadn’t intended to be here ourselves.
“You will have to touch soil for this part,” Briar warns, and I don’t miss the teasing edge to his tone.
“I know.” I elbow him softly and get onto my knees. “I suppose some things are worth getting a little dirty for.”
I expect a mischievous grin, a wink, anything playful to come from him, but it’s all eclipsed by the tender stare he spells me under, like there’s nothing else but us and this moment.
“I, Monroe Bloom, stand here before my mate with the seed of our bond, ready to be claimed and nurtured.”
For so long I’d been lost, clinging to a familiar world and a life I understood. The mate mark felt like an omen, trapping me in death. Part of me believed if I claimed Briar and my Bloom existence, I’d close the door on my mortality. I’d been wrong, though. This was just a new beautiful chapter.
A tragic end rewritten.
Facing Briar, my body hums with magic and desire.
“Briar, I vow to be the roots that ground you, the water that supports your growth, the shade that protects you, and the sunlight that reminds us that even in the darkest night, there’s hope.
With this claiming, may we grow, love, and thrive alongside our bond. ”
Briar’s mouth pulls into a smile and he squeezes my hands. His nerves and joy sweep through me as he begins to speak. “I, Briar Bloom, stand here before my mate with the seed of our bond, ready to be claimed and nurtured.”
His chest rises and falls, the lines of his flourish marks rippling under the lamplight. I could stare at each one for hours, entranced by their artistry. One day, I’ll be covered in them too, an illustration of a love story that began with death and lives on for eternity.
“Monroe, I vow to be the roots that ground you, the water that supports your growth, the shade that protects you, and the sunlight that reminds us that even in the darkest night, there’s hope. With this claiming, may we grow, love, and thrive alongside our bond.”
He traces an invisible heart over the back of my hand, and in my mind, his smooth voice whispers, “Unconditionally and in every iteration.”
“Unconditionally and in every iteration,” I repeat back. I blink a few times while my mind registers that he spoke those vows for my ears alone.
My brows furrow, recalling another time I heard his voice.
“You’ve done hard things. You’ll do hard things. And you’re not alone.”
That mantra wasn’t just in my head. I don’t know why it surprises me, but I have a sneaking suspicion it won’t be the last time my mate offers me a glimpse of sunlight when the darkness creeps in.
“Are you going to teach me how you do that?” I ask, following his lead and scooping up a heap of soil in my palms.
“That depends… Will you use it for good or evil?”
“Both,” I say, leaning over and playfully nipping his bottom lip.
We infuse the soil with our magic and toss it back into the flower bed. Brushing the extra dirt off our hands, we join them together and watch our magic take root, large green stalks shooting up from the ground. The stems twist around each other and bulbs curve out from their tips. Closed for now.
There are cheers and a few grunts of approval.
Roxy and Kendrick congratulate us and wander to where Cherri and Dani are covered in paint.
There’s so much coating them that they almost don’t look naked, though they definitely are.
My cheeks heat, and I turn back to Briar who is politely averting his gaze from his sibling’s claiming activities.
“Is it weird?” I ask, not sure what the etiquette is among Bloom families.
He sighs. “Not really. We’ve learned how to tune each other out and never speak of it at family functions.”
I gnaw at my bottom lip and try to decide what to do next. Do we bite each other and fuck right here or…
As if reading my mind, Briar reaches for the bucket and pulls out the tubes of paint.
He squeezes some of each color onto the palette, sits down, and draws my legs over his lap. Dipping his fingers into some green paint, he drags it in wavy lines from the top of my foot, up the front and sides of my lower legs. With any excess, he creates small leaves.
“All the paint is edible,” I say, a bit breathless at the sight of him shaping the petals of wildflowers.
“Nice touch, Dr. Tanner.”
“I was feeling inspired.” My eyes draw up his chest, and I take some pink paint, tracing a heart over his. It may not beat, but it’s no less full of love.
“Well, I do love nurturing your creative spark.” He chuckles.
Memories of our night in the greenhouse flood my mind. His body became my vivid masterpiece. My body became his. I wanted that again and more.