Page 137 of Nash

Hell, she’s more. Wren fought to be Sire’s queen. No one can deny her fierce desire to be here.

Delphine, who’s much taller with proud, feminine curves, strides behind her in a similar black satin corseted mini dress, but hers has a long, sheer, black chiffon skirt. That woman is French, through and through. Even Delphine’s blonde hair, twisted in a messy bun, and her long bangs, skimming her smoky eyes, reveal it.

Last but never least, Nick’s queen saunters into the room.Damn, I love his style.Zar chose a black velvet tuxedo tonight, his dark waves styled like a handsome devil.

My stare slides to Vale, who’s stunned silent. Each queen greets her next with kisses on her cheeks, their smiles warm and welcoming.

With a round of vodka shots served by Sire, we stand, circling Vale. She sits proudly as we hold our crystal glasses high in a silent toast to her, and for a moment, I don’t believe I’m here.

Guess this is the feeling of a dream coming true. Guess this is love because each time I think Vale can’t look any more beautiful, I’m so wrong.

I toss my shot back before noting the goosebumps blooming over her alabaster calves.

Vale feels it, too.

The kings escort their queens to their thrones before taking their thrones across from them. I stand before Vale with my hands clasped, my eyes anchored to hers as Axel drones on about tradition, honor, and vows.

The whole time, his mystery woman kneels on a golden velvet pillow, her masked face submitting to his lap, his hand caressing her head.

Vale’s grey eyes grow wide, taking in the story Axel shares of their escape from Moscow, why their mother hid them here, how we chose this tradition years later, and why we fight for what we do now.

Yes, it’s sacred to us. It’s our history and bond, but I’ve heard it all before.

I want my queen.

I’ve waited too damn long for her.

I’m impatient to begin, my heart pounding to claim her. She’s always been mine.

Finally, Axel concludes, “Do you, Nash Allen, with a free and unconstrained will, claim Vale Monroe as your queen?”

I nod, reaching for Vale’s right hand. Lifting it to my lips, I kiss her third finger and vow, “I do.”

“Will you guard her, above all, with your life? Will you love her, above all, with your heart? Will you die for her, with no hesitation, leaving her your soul?”

I swallow, lost in the tears welling in Vale’s eyes. “Always.”

“Will you, Vale Monroe,” Sire begins, “with a free and unconstrained will, accept our brother, Nash Allen, as your king?”

Vale chews her trembling lip.

Don’t cry, poison.

I kneel, cupping her cheeks, feeling all the years I couldn’t have her rush through my veins until finally, my fingertips tingle, holding her before me now.

The years she suffered alone, waiting for me, swim in her eyes, too. They make her tears fall, wetting my palms, her beautiful, silent emotions strangling my throat. Her lips tremble as if, for the first time …Vale can’t speak.

I nuzzle my forehead to hers. “Time to use all those words you love, poison.”

“I will...” She stammers, smiling, “I mean … I do. I take Nash as my king.”

“Will you love him, above all, with your heart? Will you give him, more than any other, a life worth fighting for? Will you honor him, even in death, as his queen?”

“Forever,” she promises.

“Deliver them, safe from wrath and danger,” Sire prays aloud as I pull Vale’s lips to mine. “Preserve their bed and fill their home.” Our lips part, her tongue and breath meeting mine. “Let them see their children’s children.” I deepen our kiss, my heart hitching and wanting nothing more. “Unite them into one flesh, one family with us.” I taste Vale’s tears. They make me fight mine. “Crown them, king and queen together, tonight, and in the stars forever.”

“I love you, my poison,” I murmur over our lips.

---