Chapter Seventeen
Drummond slid the ring onto the finger of her left hand and smiled, unable to contain his joy.
“Behold my oath that I will take no other as my wife except you, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for good or for ill, till death steals me away and sends my soul to the next life to await ye.”
Evie smiled up at him, not waiting for the priest’s prompt.
“And I will take no other as my husband but you, always remaining at your side, in sickness and in health, during good times and bad, till death separates us from this life and sends us on to the next. I love you, Drummond. You make me whole.”
The holy man cleared his throat, then made the sign of the cross above them. “Then by the power of the Lord God Almighty, I pronounce thee husband and wife. Let no man put asunder what God Himself hath joined.” Then he jerked a stern nod at Drummond.
Drummond couldn’t help but grin at the wee priest’s irritation.
The man had not appreciated it when he’d been told to perform the ceremony as a show to one and all—in fact, to the entire feckin’ universe and every mystical power that existed—that this union had been sanctified in every way possible: in the old way by the speaking of the binding oath, by the irregular marriage laws of Scotland, and now by marriage contract and the church’s holy vows.
He framed his beloved wife’s face between his hands and kissed her, allowing himself a satisfied groan for the perfection of the moment. Never had he been so content or complete. The strength of their love surged through him like the strongest of drink.
“I love ye, my own,” he said as he lifted his head. “With all my being.”
“I love you more.”
The great hall shook with the cheers of the clan. Women dabbed at their eyes, and men clapped and stamped their feet.
“I hereby proclaim this our happily ever after.” Evie looped her arm through his and hugged herself tighter against him. But then she stiffened, staring at the arched entryway at the far end of the large room.
Drummond followed her line of sight and immediately understood.
They were leaving. Jadrack and Morganna stood in the doorway, their hands barely lifted in farewell.
Tears streamed down the Unseelie woman’s face, and even the eyes of the dragon hidden by his human glamour gleamed a little too brightly. “I will miss them too, m’love.”
“I wonder if we’ll ever see them again,” she whispered, blinking rapidly as she fought against the tears. “And Mercury. I wish I could see him again, too.”
He leaned down and brushed a tender kiss on Danu’s triple spiral that the goddess had placed on his precious wife’s neck, the mark that matched his own. “With magic, anything is possible, my own. Absolutely anything.”
“And love,” she added with a sad, heartfelt sigh that sounded more contented than troubled.
“Aye, dear one. And with love.”
The End