He felt like a prize idiot, dressed up, but the look on Marika’s face as she walked toward him made it all worthwhile. She looked as stunned as he felt looking at her in her wedding finery.
“You’re beautiful,” he mouthed silently as she approached.
And she was. Dressed in a long white gown that was near enough to a Latharian mating dress to satisfy his cultural needs, her hair had been gathered up on top of her head to expose the graceful arch of her neck. Flowers were woven through her dark hair, matching the bouquet she carried, and she wore a jeweled collar he knew instantly was down to Red, who winked at him. He decided instantly he would buy her a proper mating collar. Soon.
Her soft blush and the way she dropped her gaze at his compliment fed the male animal within. She was so beautiful, petite and delicate as she came to stand next to him that he was forced to catch his breath and remain in place. All he wanted to do was scoop her up in his arms and carry her off, back up to the bridal suite so he could have his wicked way with her. He still couldn’t get over the fact that humans had a suite especially for deflowering brides. It was an intriguing notion…
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the official said in a formal voice, “we are gathered here today to celebrate the joining in marriage of this man and this woman.”
Skinny tuned out the official’s voice as he reached for Marika’s hand. She jumped and looked up at him before sliding her fingers into his and lacing them. He shivered. Her hands were so soft, her touch light and delicate. He could just imagine them on his—
Sparky’s elbow in his ribcage brought him back to reality with a jump.
“Do you, Altav Wolven, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The tone of the official’s voice made it clear it was the second time of asking.
“Yes. I do,” he said quickly. He’d agree to anything as long as it meant Marika was his.
The official turned to his bride.
“Do you, Marika Penelope I-In… grassia,” his voice broke, his words faltered, and he shot a look at Marika.
“Problem?” Sparky asked, his voice without its usual jokey tone. Instead, it was hard edged and dangerous, the human parting his jacket to flash the heavy pulse pistols in shoulder sheaths underneath. It had never failed to amaze Skinny how the human managed to conceal weapons under his clothing so well.
The official paled even more. “No, no! No problem at all!”
Turning back to Marika, he asked again, his words tumbling over each other like rocks in a landslide. “Do you, Marika Penelope Ingrassia, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
She smiled, looking up at Skinny. In that moment he wouldn’t have cared if the entire Imperial army came crashing through the place. Marika was his. All his.
“Excellent. I now pronounce you man and wife. Thumbprints here for the electronic witnesses please.”
Altav didn’t even look at the man, his gaze locked with that of his bride as he reached out and pressed his thumb to the small scanner. It bleeped confirmation and then went a second time as Marika did the same.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Skinny grinned as he swept Marika up in his arms and claimed her lips in the softest, gentlest kiss he’d ever given anyone.
“Finally!” T’Raal chuckled behind them. “I thought he was about to spontaneously combust or something.”
Even though his lips were still welded to his bride’s, that didn’t stop him flicking an offensive gesture to T’Raal behind her back. It was Latharian, a flick of his thumb and little finger.
Rather than take offense, T’Raal just laughed. “No, my parents weren’t mated. I’m a bastard and proud of it. Now will someone get him off the poor girl so we can go eat?”
10
Today had been utterly perfect.
Marika bit her lip, giggling a little as she and Altav made their way up to the bridal suite. Unlike her other weddings, all grand and lavish affairs, their reception had been held in the bar, the Warborne getting steadily drunker. As they did, the stories got wilder and wilder. She’d sat tucked in against Altav’s side, her eyes wide at the fantastical tales. To hear them tell it, the group had marauded across the known galaxy and beyond, fighting everything from corrupt warlords right the way through to dragons.
That was the point she’d realized they were embellishing the truth a little. For all the multitude of animal species in Terran-held spaces, she’d never once heard of something that resembled a dragon. Given her childhood interest in fairy tales, she would have known about it.
But she didn’t mind. She was happy to listen as her new husband joined in, his strong arm around her. For the first time in her life, she felt welcomed, included… like part of a family. It was a new and heady feeling. But even though she wanted to stay and talk more to wheedle more stories out of Beauty, who appeared to have been some kind of gladiatorial fighter in a previous life, when Altav urged her to her feet with a gleam in his eyes, she forgot all about the rest of the group. All she could focus on was her handsome groom.
Anticipation coursed through her as they approached the bridal suite. She’d been on edge since he’d kissed her at the ceremony, sweeping her off her feet. The feel of those strong arms around her and the strength in his larger body had sent heat and awareness through her. Even her toes had curled. So much power and strength took her breath away.
They paused outside the door, Altav patting his pockets for the keycard. There were no mod cons here on the edge of known space, which she was grateful for. A DNA or retinal scan would alert her father where she was quicker than she could say his name.
There had been one little issue when the officiant had recognized her name, but she was certain Sparky and Red had had a “word” with him afterward. From their stern faces and the way he’d scuttled off, she doubted he’d admit to ever having seen them, even with the official documents to prove he’d been the one to marry them.
“It’s going to be okay. Isn’t it?” she asked, wincing at the unsure tone in her voice. But, just for once, she wanted someone to tell her it would be okay. Even if it wasn’t, she wanted the lie, just for once.
Altav’s hands stopped their movement, but rather than laugh as she’d expected, he simply reached out and pulled her closer into the safety of his embrace.
“It will be more than okay,” he murmured, nuzzling her hair. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll protect you. I’ll always protect you.”
She pulled back to look up at him, studying his expression. She desperately wanted to ask more—to ask whether he’d meant their vows or whether this was just another job for him—but she daren’t. What if he said they were?
She shivered. Her emotions were too high for her to be able to cope with confirmation that this… she was just another job to him. Not tonight. The day had been so perfect she didn’t want to ruin it.
Tomorrow they were headed back to Toloria and the shit would hit the fan. They might not even survive, so all her worrying would be for nothing anyway. She lifted her chin. If she was going to die, she wanted one perfect day. She deserved that much. Didn’t she?
“Thank you,” she replied simply.