Page 37 of Mason

"Shoulda ridden her here myself," I mutter, mostly to myself, imagining her behind me, arms wrapped tight around my waist.

"Wouldn't have been proper," Dagger laughs, his voice deep.

"Feels like I've been waiting a lifetime to get there," I confess, the truth of it settling in my chest like a weight.

"Good things come to those who wait, Mason. You taught me that," Dagger reminds me.

"Did I now?" I smirk, even though my palms are sweating. "Guess we're gonna find out if I know what the hell I'm talking about then.”

And then, as if summoned by my restless heart, there's a stir at the edge of the crowd. Heads turn, whispers ripple through the air, and every cell in my body goes on high alert.

It's time.

Her blonde curls catch the sunlight, turning to spun gold. My chest tightens seeing her like this—so damn beautiful it hurts. Every doubt I've ever had about being worthy of someone like Carlie gets crushed under the weight of her gaze. She's brave, walking toward me, her expression full of trust, full of love.

"Never seen anything like it," I murmur, the words torn from somewhere deep inside me. The outlaw in me bows to the queen approaching. She's my redemption, my wild, unexpected shot at a life worth something more than the next ride.

CARLIE

I reach him, my breath catching when his rough hand takes mine. His touch is familiar, grounding. We turn to face the officiant, our friends, our family—the Iron Reapers watching with fierce pride in their eyes.

"Mason Blackstone," I begin, my voice steady even though I'm shaking inside. "You stormed into my life like a hurricane, all chaos and fire. But you gave me strength, showed me what it means to live, to really live. Today, I vow to ride with you, through storms and sunshine, until the end of the road."

Tears glimmer in his dark eyes, and he clears his throat, squeezing my hand.

"Carlie Meadows," Mason's voice rumbles, raw emotion making it quake. "You saw through the grime and the grit to the man beneath. You're my light, my peace. I vow to protect you, cherish you, and challenge you. To stand by you against any who'd dare try to take this happiness away. You're my ride or die, Carlie. Forever and always."

The weight of his words settles around us, heavy as a mantle, sacred as a prayer. And in this moment, with the dust settling beneath our feet, we are no longer two separate souls. We are united, bound by words spoken from the depths of our beings, in front of a world that never expected us to make it this far.

The officiant's words slice through the charged air, crisp and final. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." A pause hangs, then he smiles, a knowing twist to his lips. "Mason, you may kiss your bride."

My world narrows down to Mason's hands cradling my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks with a tenderness that belies his rough exterior. He leans in, and I'm lost in the storm of his kiss, fierce and claiming, yet whispering promises of forever.

"Damn right," he murmurs against my lips, voice thick with unshed emotion.

The kiss seals our vows, a lock on a future forged in steel and ink. It's a brand, marking me as his, him as mine. The crowd erupts, a roaring wave of cheers and whistles from the Iron Reapers, the rumble of their approval vibrating through the ground.

We break apart, breathless, the taste of each other lingering like a vow. Smiles split our faces wide, joy a living thing between us. My heart thumps, a drumbeat syncing with his.

Hand in hand, we turn, facing the world together as partners, as equals. We step down the aisle, the gravel crunching under our boots, a fitting chorus to the new rhythm of our lives.

"Look at 'em," Mason's voice is low, meant only for me. "They never thought they'd see the day Pres Blackstone would get hitched."

"Proved them wrong," I squeeze his hand, strength flowing from me to him, him to me.

"Damn straight, babe."

The Iron Reapers part like a sea, leather-clad warriors softened by the sight before them. Each hug wraps us in warmth, every kiss a blessing, and the well wishes weave an invisible shield around us.

"Never seen you so damn happy, Pres," one of the brothers claps Mason on the back, the slap echoing.

"Never been happier," he admits, pride in his voice, eyes only for me.

Jenny steps forward, tears glistening in her eyes. She hugs me tight, love spilling from her in waves. "You've found your match, Carlie."

"Found my home," I whisper back, glancing up at Mason, his gaze fierce and protective.

TWENTY

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