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They didn’t talk of war but of wedding, and as a man who’d lived lifetimes as a soldier, he knew there were moments as well to put the blood and the battles aside and give over to love and life.

He might not have had much to say about either, but his companions didn’t appear to need him, as conversation never lagged.

“Would you marry me here?” Bran asked. “When the stars are returned, and our lives are our own again?”

“Here? I can’t think of a more perfect or beautiful place. My mother—”

“We’ll bring her over, and my family will come in droves, believe me.”

“Móraí.” The idea delighted Annika. “I can show her the scarves I’ve made. But . . .”

“You’re worried you won’t be able to come, that you’ll be back in the sea,” Sasha said. “Bran?”

“I’ll make you a pool,” he promised. “If your time on land is up, you’ll have a pool, and be part of the day.”

“You’d do that for me?”

Bran reached over to take her hand, to kiss her knuckles. “You’re my sister.”

“And mine. Both you and Riley. So you’ll be my maids of honor. You’ll do that, won’t you?”

“Couldn’t stop us, right, Anni?”

“Oh, we will be so happy to be maids of honor. What is it?”

As Sasha laughed, Riley reached for more potatoes. “Like attendants. It’s a tradition with a long history—which I’ll refrain from recounting.”

She ignored the applause that rounded the table.

“But to bring it current, we stand up for Sasha, help make the day perfect for her. Then we party.”

“I would like that very much.”

“And I have my best men here, with Doyle and Sawyer. It’s very like what you and Riley will be for Sasha.”

“You can count on us, bro. You can count on us to throw you the mother of all stag parties, right, Doyle?”

“You will have deer?” Annika wondered.

“Stag parties are an excuse for the groom and his pals to drink themselves stupid and hire a stripper,” Riley told her.

“They have too much class for strippers,” Sasha objected.

“No, we don’t.” And Doyle reached for more champagne.

“We’ll have our own version,” Riley assured her.

“You’ll make some calls,” Doyle assumed.

“I’ve got some contacts.”

• • •

Bran waited until the meal wound down.

“I’d like everyone to join me outside in an hour. For a kind of ceremony, you could say. You’ll need your weapons.”

“If it’s another drill after that meal . . .” Riley groaned as she pushed back from the table.


Tags: Nora Roberts The Guardians Trilogy Fantasy