The more she replayed the night Jonas seized the throne, the more she remembered. When Clarence asked Larissa if the prophecy had shifted, she said yes. When it clearly had not. If Larissa hadn’t lied on their behalf, the night could have ended quite differently. In an odd way, Ginny now felt indebted to the seer. And if her father was still alive—and Lord, she wished he was there to witness her wedding tonight—he would want Ginny to forgive Larissa and so she had. Forgiveness was pretty easy with love occupying every inch of her heart and soul.
A lone violin started to play and Ginny’s fingers tightened around the rose stems, her body going through the motions of taking a deep breath, though it was hardly required. Jonas was waiting for her and she could already pick out his pulse among dozens, true and heavy, anticipatory. Her fangs almost dropped in response, but she pressed her tongue hard to incisors, placating herself with the promise of later.
Later Jonas would crowd her into to a quiet corner and take rough hold of her backside, lifting her so she could reach his neck—and when she broke his skin and took, his moans would shake the rafters.
“Easy there, tiger,” came a voice lightly accented with Russian. “You’ll give new meaning to the term ‘blushing bride.’”
“Roksana?” Ginny breathed, whirling around. And there was her friend, who’d been missing in action for over three months, standing in the moonlight. In a persimmon gown. “You’re wearing the dress I made you.”
“I am.” She picked up the skirt and lifted it, revealing a series of stakes strapped to her thighs. “Very convenient for hiding weapons.”
“Are you going to complain if I hug you?”
Roksana sniffed. “I’ll endure it on your wedding day. Even though you’re a bloodsucker now.”
Ginny threw her arms around Roksana’s neck, surprised when the slayer returned the embrace. “I guess this means you’ll have to slaughter me now,” Ginny whispered.
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
Emotion weighed Ginny’s chest down as she stepped back. “Walk me down the aisle?”
Roksana scoffed, but her eyes turned suspiciously damp. “You want a slayer to walk you down the aisle at a vampire wedding?”
“Yes. Please?”
Her friend started to answer, but grew tense when Elias joined them behind the veil of flowers, filling the air with electricity. “The king grows impatient for his bride…” He trailed off when he saw Roksana, his gaze slowly raking her top to bottom. “You’re here. In a dress.” His scar turned a stark white, anger igniting his deep brown eyes. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Wherever I want to be.”
“You…” A muscle slithered in his cheek. “You left my credit card behind on purpose so I couldn’t track you.”
Roksana’s voice was breathless. “Get used to it. I’m leaving as soon as I walk Ginny down the aisle.”
He stepped into Roksana’s space. “Where are you going?”
Was that fear in the slayer’s eyes? “Russia. I’ve been called back and rightly so.”
Elias choked a sound.
“Yes. It’s…been real.” The slayer forced a smile and skirted around a stiff Elias, hooking her elbow with Ginny’s. “Shall we?”
Ginny wanted to question her friend—and she would. Whatever was in Russia was not good. Not good at all. She would find out what it was and use her new power as queen of the High Order to help, by any means possible. Roksana had protected her when she needed it most and she would return the favor.
At that moment, though, Jonas came into view in between the two standing sections of wedding guests and everything else ceased to exist.
If she’d had breath in her lungs, the sight of her fiancé in a tuxedo would have knocked it clean out of her. Ginny’s heart picked up the slack, hammering wildly in her throat. Mate. My mate. Lord help her, she almost picked up the hem of her dress and ran down the flower-strewn aisle to meet him.
Jonas appeared to be contemplating the same—a run up the aisle to acquire her in his arms. His expression shifted between impatience and awe, the green of his eyes lit up like twin flames. “My love,” he mouthed, grasping at his heart. “Come to me.”
Beside her, Roksana laughed and slid her arm free of Ginny’s. “Go ahead.”
With a sound between a whimper and a sob, Ginny tossed her friend the bouquet. Then she picked up the hem of her wedding dress and ran toward a waiting Jonas.
Into the arms of eternal happiness two lifetimes in the making.
THE END