She flew through the doorway and into my arms.
I caught her easily and crushed her against my chest, careful to keep my hands on the nape of her neck and around her waist so I didn’t undo her hair. “What happened to not seeing the bride on the wedding night?” I took her scent into my lungs and held it there, savoring the burn of thirst and the jolt of need that shot down my spine.
“Maybe that only applies to wedding days,” she answered. “Besides, there’s not much traditional about this, so I’ll take my chances.”
I trailed my hand over the soft silk of her waist—Wait a second.
She wasn’t wearing the traditional white of a human wedding. Her gown fell off her shoulders, leaving that soft skin exposed, then dipped between her breasts, hugged the curve of her waist, then fell to the floor in a voluminous cascade of silk. Crimson silk. The color of blood, of life, and love.
“Do you like it?” she asked, stepping back so I could see the whole picture. “Avi told me it was tradition to wear red. Well, crimson.”
She was completely and utterly breathtaking.
She was mine.
“I like it,” I managed to say, moving forward without thinking. Fuck me, was that a slit at the front of her right leg? We weren’t going to make it to the wedding. We weren’t even going to make it to the bedroom.
She stepped back and put her hand out. “Oh no. Don’t you look at me like that. It took Avianna and a team of other women—”
“Females,” I corrected her gently. “Vampires aren’t women. They’re females.” My smile was slow, but I couldn’t keep it in. “We might need to go over a few things since you’ll be their queen in about five minutes.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What if I get it wrong?”
I took her hand. “The ceremony is easy. Just repeat after me.” My thumb stroked over her mating mark. “You ready?”
She nodded, and I walked her to the ceremony before we skipped the whole damn thing all together.
A few moments later, the ballroom was packed to the brim with nobles and aristocrats, but all I saw was Lyric as she stood across from me, her hands in mine, exchanging the sacred words that would make our mating a legal one in our world.
“I am yours, and you are mine,” I finished loudly enough for the nobles in the back to hear. No one would doubt the legitimacy of this mating. My thumb grazed over the emerald solitaire on her left hand. Some traditions belonged to all species.
“I am yours, and you are mine,” she responded, diamonds and rubies sparkling where they’d been pinned into her hair, which had been swept up into some kind of twisty knot.
I gently turned her wrist to face the crowd. “Who will bear witness to the mark?”
“I will,” Avi stated, stepping forward from the front row and walking past the line of my warriors that stood at the base of the small steps that led to our dais.
“I will.” Lachlan joined her and walked up the steps.
One female and one male.
They both glanced at Lyric’s wrist, then turned to face the crowd. “She bears his mark,” Avianna declared.
“They are mated,” Lachlan finished the ceremony, both returning to their places.
My chest swelled yet somehow tightened at the same time. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. I pulled her against me, then kissed her hard and deep, uncaring that we were in a room full of people. Let them all see that it was my mark on her wrist. My hands on her body. My scent enveloping her.
By the time I lifted my head, we were both dazed, and the room was pin-drop silent. I looked deep into her emerald eyes, then turned us outward to face the crowd.
“Your queen!”
The Assassins dropped to a knee and bowed their heads in one singular motion.
Then the crowd followed suit.
“Whoa,” Lyric whispered.
I nodded slowly in approval. They’d all borne witness and now pledged their allegiance. It was done. She was mine.
We lasted two hours, sixteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds at the god-awful fealty ceremony that humans called a reception. When Lyric smiled over at me from across the ballroom, her skin luminous against the crimson silk and her scent flaring with the bloom of happiness…and arousal, I decided we’d spent quite enough time in the company of others.
The crowd of black-tie nobles parted as I made my way to where Lyric stood with Ransom and Avi. Even Hawke had put on a tux, though he’d refused the tie and left the top button open.
I only paused as I reached her, lifting her against my chest and securing my arm under her knees before striding out of the room. There. Now I could breathe again.
“Hi,” she whispered, cradling the side of my face as I carried her across the courtyard.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I turned my face into her palm with a kiss.
“You’re not too bad to look at yourself,” she teased, flashing me a smile that hit me harder than one of Lachlan’s punches. Her face fell slightly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was just thinking that my best friend wasn’t here.” She shook her head and blinked rapidly. “It’s okay. Really.”
“So we can do it again.” Serge had appeared in front of us and opened the front door to the residence so smoothly I didn’t break my stride. Then we started up the stairs. “Something small. At night, of course. You could wear white.”
“Like…a real wedding?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Lyric, this one was as real as it gets. You’re married to me. No backing out now.” I gave her a grin, but my heart flipped at the possibility that she didn’t understand the gravity of what we’d just done. “But I don’t mind marrying you again and again if you like.”
We reached the top of the stairs, and my heartbeat accelerated. Maybe it had only been a month, but I felt like I’d been waiting to get my hands on this woman my entire life.
“I’m taking you to our room.” My voice dropped low as I passed Avi’s door and continued down the hall.
“I know.” She ran her fingers through my hair.
“I’m going to strip this dress off your body and replace it with my mouth.” There wasn’t an inch of her body I’d leave untouched tonight—today. The sun was only hours from rising, and we had as much time as we wanted. I was already hard, my stomach clenching with need.
“I like that idea.” Her lips parted, and her breath caught.
I turned slightly so I could open our door, then carried her inside, kicking it shut behind us. Serge had outdone himself. Candles covered every available surface but the floor and bed, and the Lyric’s sweet scent mixed with the scattered bouquets of white hydrangeas.
Her gaze swept over the room before locking with mine. Then her tongue peeked out, swiping over her lower lip, and I was done for.
Our mouths collided in a primal, unbridled kiss, my tongue sweeping inside to claim her with deep strokes that she answered with her own.
Her hands gripped my lapels as I lowered her to her feet, and she quickly arched against me for another kiss, then another.
Lyric was an intoxicating blend of innocence and fire, and I was completely in her thrall—but I had to stay in control if I wanted her to live through this night.