Page 92 of Thirst Trap
She became my home.
Chapter 57
Vows in Blood and Gold
The garden wasn’t gentle. Petals fell like ash, the night air heavy, thick with perfume and danger. But Lucas, waiting for me, was holy.
White suit. Scar carved deep. Eyes burning. I walked toward him, every whisper and stare cutting, but none of it mattered. Not when he was mine.
“Yes,” he said before the vows were done.
“I do,” I breathed, without hesitation.
The rings weren’t gold. They were shackles, glittering, binding us. His kiss tasted like a vow sealed in blood and silk, a battle cry dressed as devotion. The world blurred, petals storming around us, witnesses caught between awe and fear.
Logan’s hands clapped once, sharp thunder in the silence. Penny’s gaze found mine, soft but unyielding, a mirror: herwith Logan, me with Lucas. Different men, same chains. Same madness. Same strength.
“Mine,” Lucas whispered into my mouth.
“Yours. Always.”
The bells tolled. And in the blur of petals and shadows, I becameMaddison Creams.
***
The garden was dressed for a wedding, but I didn’t see flowers.
I saw her.
White dress. Bare shoulders. Fire in her hair. Mine.
She walked toward me, slow, deliberate. Every fool in the crowd thought they had a right to look. They didn’t. She was walking to me. For me.
The priest started words I didn’t care for. I didn’t wait.
“Yes.” My vow wasn’t patience. My vow was a command to her.
Her answer cut straight through me. “I do.”
Of course she did. She always would.
The ring weighed heavy, sharp enough to draw blood. I wanted it that way. When I kissed her, I swallowed every curse, every cheer, every set of eyes watching. She kissed back like surrender and rebellion at once.
Logan clapped once. Penny smiled through her tears. None of it mattered. Only Maddison. Only us.
“Mine,” I told her against her lips.
“Yours,” she breathed.
The bells tolled. The petals fell. The world could burn.
Maddison Creams belonged to me.
Chapter 58
Runway
The reception blurred into champagne and whispers. By midnight, security hustled us through a private terminal. Honeymoon. Escape. A promise of peace. Lucas’s hand never left mine. But my chest wouldn’t calm.
