Chapter 59 Komal
Winnie: No one is allowed to miss tonight’s Nevermore Coven meeting, upon pain of death. I have news!
“IT’S HERE!” WINNIE CRIES THE moment she races into the Events room. She waves a letter bearing a dramatic wax seal. “It’s the official letter from the Conclave. They’re changing the laws. Vampires and humans are allowed to marry!”
We crowd around while Winnie reads the letter aloud.
I wouldn’t have believed it if not for the official Conclave seal inked in blood (of course – vampires, so dramatic).
Dante and Irene came through for us, and with Kael indisposed, the Lady of Agony was named as the Nightshade delegate.
Although her support of Alaric’s marriage was far from guaranteed, she voted for the law change.
This is huge.
It doesn’t change vampire society overnight. It doesn’t mean Dhampir are accepted by Upyr. But it’s the biggest change to vampire law for hundreds of years. It means they’re open to reform. We convinced them.
Hannah convinced them.
There are so many battles left to fight – who knows how many other Dhampir are living in secret, fearful of the Ordo Exsecrati.
But this is the first step towards giving all Dhampir the freedom they deserve, and all vampires and humans the right to fall in love with whoever they choose.
For today, I intend to lay down arms and celebrate our victory.
“Does that mean you can set the date?” Mina asks, her voice tight with excitement.
“We can set a date!” Winnie spins around the room. “I can’t believe it. I’m getting married. And you all have to help me. I don’t know the first thing about throwing a vampire wedding.”
“You’re literally a professional organiser. Organising a wedding is your thing.”
“Yes, but this isn’t just a wedding, is it?
It’s a political event.” Winnie stares down at the letter, her brow creased with worry.
“Vampires from all over Europe – from all over the world – will come just to gawp at us. Alaric will be a mess. His mother will have Things To Say. It’s all so much, and I don’t even know where to begin.
” Winnie jabs a finger in Celeste’s chest. “You! Catering!”
Celeste gulps. “I haven’t perfected my blood pastries—”
“For the humans. It’s my wedding too and I want cake! So much cake! All the cake! I’ll get that Conclave guy, Dante di Sangro, to take care of the blood. And I’ll need a dress. And… and… flowers!” Winnie looks at Dora. “You can do flowers, yes?”
“It would be my honour.” Dora beams.
“What about transport?” I ask. “The bride arrives by helicopter.”
“Sure, that too!” Winnie squeezes me tight. “I’m getting married. It’s finally happening. And it’s all because of you, Komal.”
“It’s really not. Hannah deserves the credit. You should have seen her, how brave she was—”
“Like mamma, like daughter,” Beth says with a proud smile.
Mamma. It’s a name I’ve longed to be called all my life, and now I hear it every day from Hannah, usually when she wants me to help her with some mischievous plot.
I know I’ll never replace her real mother, but I’m so honoured and excited to help shape her into the brave, creative and boisterous young woman she’s growing into.
And it helps that her dad is super hot.
After book club, Winnie insists on shouting a round at the Rose & Wimple.
I help Mina pack up the room, and she decides to leave Oscar at home as he’s already sound asleep, so I link arms with her to guide her over to the pub.
Just as we settle in at an outdoor table with the rest of the coven, a looming shadow emerges from the side of the building.
Augustin, wearing one of his dapper suits and a grin that splits open the universe.
“Alaric invited me to the pub.” He holds up a glass of blood. “He’s asked me to be a groomsman.”
His voice is quiet, filled with awe. After all this time, Augustin still can’t believe that someone might choose him. But I’m not the only one who thinks he’s wonderful. Now that my friends can stop pretending to hate him on my behalf, they are fully back on the “Augustin Is Great” train.
Only this time, I’m the conductor.
“Oh, hello, Augustin. Fancy seeing you here.” Winnie slips her arm into Mina’s. “I’ll make sure Mina gets her G&T. You two go and talk or canoodle or whatever it is that vampires in love do.”
Augustin’s hand fits into mine, the cool of his fingers a balm against the boisterous celebrations. “Forgive my foolish heart, but I think we should take a walk in the moonlight.”
“Durant, you read my mind.”
He leads me across the village green – where our new mayor chases after Rob the squirrel, who has stolen his hat – through the narrow alley beside Nevermore Bookshop, past the bins and onto the woodland path. My boots crunch on the first of December’s snow.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t win,” I say. “All of that campaigning, getting me disqualified, and you were beaten by Reggie.”
“What can I say?” Augustin shrugs. “This town loves whimsy. I think Reggie will be a fine mayor.”
“He will not, but as long as we get our weekly council meeting – aka village-sanctioned battleground – I think things worked out for the best.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
After a few hundred metres, Augustin steps off the path, helping me weave through the trees using his forest god senses to guide the way. I want to ask where we’re going, but something in the urgent hurry of his steps makes me think this isn’t a teasing moment.
He pulls me up a steep bank and through a copse of ancient oaks. The forest quiets as we step into a clearing, as if the birds regard this as a sacred space.
It’s ringed by towering ancient ash and silver-trunked birch, their branches clasping overhead like the spines of a cathedral.
A small creek cuts through one corner, the water running so clear I see every smooth river stone beneath.
My shoes land on soft moss that covers the ground like a carpet, dusted with a coating of white snow.
In the centre, moonlight pours through a natural break in the canopy, casting everything in a crisp, magical glow.
“What do you think of this spot?” Augustin asks.
“It’s beautiful.” I say. “But why are we here? Please don’t tell me you’re taking up fungus farming. Beth will become your new best friend.”
“I made something for you.” Augustin waves his hand.
The moss trembles. The snow, like a layer of pale lace, shifts.
And then, like the ground is exhaling in a sweeping breath, red blossoms erupt from the earth.
Hundreds of them. Thousands. They push upwards through the mossy earth, their petals unfurling into the same vibrant red that the Gorilla Gardener used in all his bouquets, crimson against the winter-soft world.
Their stems spiral into a design of intricate paths, winding around one another, until the whole clearing is transformed.
A labyrinth.
“Walk with me?” Augustin holds out his hand.
What can I do? I can’t refuse a plant daddy.
I take his hand.
We walk the labyrinth’s path together, his hand in mine, his eyes sparkling with one last secret. The scent rises to greet me – warm and sweet and a little wild, like him.
When we reach the centre, he turns to face me, cupping my hands in his. “What do you think?”
“You built me a labyrinth,” I breathe.
“I wanted you to have somewhere that’s secret, that just belongs to you. Somewhere with no pressure, where every decision is the right one.”
My knees wobble. But not from fear. From the sheer, impossible beauty of this place and the equally impossible man who created it.
“The land this sits on… it belongs to me.” Augustin bows his head. “Your mother found it for me, actually. She can be very persuasive. It’s a beautiful stretch of woodland along the boundary of the village, and I think we should build a new cottage here. For Hannah and me. And you.”
“Yes.” My chest bursts with excitement. I spin around, looking at the clearing with new eyes.
I’m already compiling a to-do list for the project.
“We could make it similar to your last one, but bigger, with a separate wing for Hannah to have to herself, and I could get Papa to help with the building if he feels up to it, and maybe Celeste could—”
As I complete my spin, I notice that Augustin has dropped onto one knee on the mossy ground. A single tendril pokes from his shirtsleeve, holding a tiny velvet box.
“Augustin Durant,” I say sternly, even though my voice doesn’t sound like my own. “What are you doing down there?”
“Admiring the view,” he says, as the vine flips the box open to reveal a beautiful hand-forged ring set with three glittering, crimson rubies. “Also, there is a sharp rock digging into my knee. Would you—”
“You realise this means you and Hannah will be part of my crazy family,” I blurt out.
“I’d like nothing more.”
“You’ll have to show up to every family dinner, help out in Papa’s shop, and play with my cousins, no matter how loud and obnoxious they’re being. And you’d have to learn how to make perfect roti and put up with the aunties and—”
“I understand this.”
“And my mother is going to want a huge wedding with dancing for days.”
“I have braced myself.”
“And you wouldn’t—”
“Komal, there is nothing you can say that will talk me out of wanting to marry you.” Augustin sighs. “I only wish to get the question out.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flush with heat. “Well, if it helps, the answer is yes. I very much want to marry you.”
“Good.” Augustin takes my hand, and the tendril pushes the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly, the three stones glittering like the snow-dusted flowers. I admire it as he stands and leans in, his lips brushing mine.
“You know, building a house together means I am going full whimsy, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I’m talking bedazzled coffin, a round front door like a hobbit hole, trinkets galore. It’ll be your worst nightmare—”
“Komal, would you kindly be silent for a moment so I can kiss you?”
I huff. “Fine.”
He does. He kisses me with all that fire that burns.
He kisses me in this place he made for us, where the dappled light and the cathedral branches and the labyrinth of flowers cause a dangerous swell in my chest.
And then he pulls back and lets out a low whistle.
I turn as Hannah bursts through the trees.
“Did you say yes?” she cries.
“She said yes,” I reply. “To both questions.”
“Finally,” Hannah grins. “Now maybe you’ll both stop being so weird.”
“We will not,” I tell her. “Your father is extremely weird. That doesn’t go away just because we’re getting married.”
Augustin lifts my hand to his lips with a smug smile. “Fortunately, Komal is even stranger.”
Hannah groans dramatically, burying her face in her hands. “Urgh. I’m going to have to get used to this, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” we say together. And then Augustin’s cool lips find mine, and everything inside me is warm.