Page 247 of Sins of the Hidden

Those jade eyes that had once watched me with terror now held something else entirely—certainty where there had previously been doubt.

Every step brought her closer until she stood before me, close enough that the air between us vibrated with shared breath. She didn't flinch. The monster stilled for her.

"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

Law's throat worked as he swallowed hard. "Her mother and I do."

He lifted her veil with hands that trembled slightly, kissed her forehead with concentrated tenderness. When he pulled away, his lips moved with words meant only for her—something that made a single tear trace down her cheek.

Then he placed her hand in mine. His fingers lingered against her skin before he retreated to Claudia's side, eyes never leaving his daughter.

Oakley's hand felt small in mine, warm and soft against calloused skin that had known nothing but violence until her. My thumb found the space where her finger should have been, brushing over scar tissue that mirrored my own.

She was beautiful. Impossibly, devastatingly beautiful.

Tyrant cleared his throat, straightening the cheap collar of what looked like a priest costume. "Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today to witness some truly fucked up shit." His grin was infectious as snickers rippled through the clubhouse. "And by that, I mean the beautiful union of V and the only woman brave enough—or crazy enough—to marry his psychotic ass. Twice."

More laughter. Even Oakley cracked a smile.

"Do you, V, take Oakley to be your wife, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and for when you inevitably terrify the shit out of everyone at family dinners?"

I swore to fuck I was gonna kill this idiot.

But when I looked at Oakley’s shining face, it didn’t look like it bothered her. She tilted her head, waiting for me to answer. A lump formed in my throat, growing inside until swallowing became impossible. “Yeah.” The clubhouse had gone silent. I shot my head at them. “What?”

Tyrant sighed. “Can take the man out of the murders but not the murders out the man.” The fuck did that mean? "Do you, Oakley—who clearly has questionable taste in men but excellent taste in everything else—take V to be your husband?"

Her hands trembled as she reached up to frame my masked face, thumbs tracing the edges where fabric met skin. When she spoke, her voice carried the weight of every moment that had brought us here. “I do.”

"By the power vested in me by the internet," Tyrant continued, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. V, you may kiss your bride."

She stepped onto my shoes. Her body pressed against mine as she balanced with one hand on my shoulder, the other reaching for my mask.

Her fingers found the elastic behind my right ear. She lifted the black fabric slowly, drawing it away from my face with the solemnity of unveiling something sacred.

Instead of dropping it, she tucked the mask behind her own ear, the black fabric stark against her white veil. The motion created a tent of privacy as she leaned into me, veil and mask combining to shield our lips from watching eyes.

Then our lips met. Her mouth was soft against mine, tasting like promises and forever. Her fingers tightened in my jacket as she drew herself closer, like she was trying to fuse us together.

Mine. Finally, completely, publicly mine.

This kiss was ours alone—witnessed by fabric and shadow, blessed by choice instead of force. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright with tears and something that looked dangerously close to joy.

I've never done anything right except falling in love with you.

The reception hall filled with the usual chaos that followed the Souls everywhere—laughter too loud, Oakley requested no alcohol because of Joslyn and Mitchell, but Knight and Tyrant didn’t need alcohol to be dumbasses.

Oakley pressed close to my side, her hand finding mine as we moved through the crowd accepting congratulations that felt surreal after a lifetime of being feared.

Knight had cornered Faith again, this time blocking her path to the bathroom. "Come on, one dance. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I could knee you in the balls again."

"Worth the risk." He waggled his eyebrows. "Besides, you missed last time."

"I wasn't aiming for your balls, dipshit. I was aiming for your kidney."

He grinned at her. “I could just give you one if you really wanted it.”

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