Desmond glanced at his watch, and we both stared at the LED screen.
It flipped over to 43, our number.
My heart thumped, and I bounced o
ut of my seat, checking my dress to make sure I hadn’t gotten too badly wrinkled while we were sitting.
“How do I look?” I’d taken a dress from Brigit’s closet for the occasion. Wearing it now made me feel like she was there with me, even in such a small way. I smoothed my hands over the white lace, breathing in the sweet, cotton-candy smell of her that lingered on the fabric. It was short, more of a cocktail dress really, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
He stooped down and kissed me. “You’re more beautiful today than you were yesterday, which is unfair, because you were already the most beautiful woman alive.”
Grandmere and Grace fussed over me all the same, making sure my curls were all in place and my makeup hadn’t smudged in the heat.
Dom was the only pack member present, since we were waiting to have an official ceremony out at the mansion for the wolves. I wished Genie could have come, but it interfered with her exam schedule at university. She had promised to come for the pack ceremony, though, which my uncle Callum would be attending as well.
Though I hadn’t yet agreed to let Desmond turn me back into a wolf, the pack was being very accepting. I’d earned their trust by telling them the truth at Lucas’s, and they’d seen the sacrifices I was willing to make. In time I would likely let Des bite me, but for now I was happy just to be human.
I’d invited Nolan, who I’d been sharing weekly calls with since he’d headed to Pittsburgh, but he hadn’t been able to make it on such short notice. He seemed to be doing well, and of everyone had been the least surprised to find out I hadn’t died.
“Yer like a cat, Secret,” he’d said. “’nd your nine lives sure’s hell ain’t up yet.”
I hoped he was right.
Having a daytime wedding had meant a few guests were forced to decline out of necessity. Before making the final plan for the day I’d offered to have a night wedding so Holden and Sutherland could attend, but I’d known even then Holden would say no. We were still close, still speaking, but it was going to take time before things were ever back to how they once were, if we could get there at all. He’d killed me, and that wasn’t something he would be able to get over any time soon.
Having my father there to give me away would have been nice, but since the events with the Hands of Death, and Sutherland’s uneasiness around me in general, I wasn’t surprised when he bowed out. It was probably for the best, but it still hurt a little that he hadn’t wanted to come.
Shaking off the sad thoughts, I looped my arm around Desmond’s waist, and we walked towards the double doors leading into the civil union office. People in the lobby glanced up at our large party, but for the most part no one cared. It didn’t matter, though. I wanted to remember every single detail of the day, right down to the surly lady at the front desk named Bonnie, who I gave my best smile to as we walked by.
I wouldn’t take a damned thing for granted anymore.
Inside a bored-looking justice of the peace called us forward, and Desmond handed him the marriage license. Dominick and Mercedes waited nearby to be our witnesses when the time came.
Desmond glanced down and tilted my face up with his finger and thumb. He kissed me so sweetly I wanted to melt into his arms.
“You’re not supposed to kiss me before we say the vows,” I scolded.
“Did you want me to wait?”
I glanced at him, then at the people around us. We’d lost so much, sacrificed everything, all in the name of staying alive. It seemed we’d waded through a sea of sadness and turmoil, and now we were getting our reward. I’d literally died to get here.
I fought against the tears that threatened to fall, my heart full to bursting with joy. After everything I’d been through, this was it. This was what I’d fought so hard for. My city was standing; my loved ones were safe and happy. I’d done it.
I could finally stop worrying and start living my life.
So did I want to wait? Hell no.
I rose on my tiptoes and kissed him back. “I don’t want to wait one more second.”
About the Author
Sierra Dean is a reformed historian. She was born and raised in the Canadian prairies and is allowed annual exit visas in order to continue her quest of steadily conquering the world one city at a time. Making the best of the cold Canadian winters, Sierra indulges in her less global interests: drinking too much tea and writing urban fantasy.
Ever since she was a young girl she has loved the idea of the supernatural coexisting with the mundane. As an adult, however, the idea evolved from the notion of fairies in flower beds, to imagining that the rugged-looking guy at the garage might secretly be a werewolf. She has used her overactive imagination to create her own version of the world, where vampire, werewolves, fairies, gods and monsters all walk among us, and she’ll continue to travel as much as possible until she finds it for real.
Sierra can be reached all over the place, as she’s a little addicted to social networking. Find her on:
Facebook: www.facebook.com/sierradeanbooks