Page 46 of Blood Oath Christmas
A small boy stares at Ivy with huge eyes full of awe. She kneels to greet him and he hands her a paper snowflake cut badly but with conviction, the highest honor his careful hands can offer. She slips a blessing into his pocket with a treat.
A smile spreads across my face, startling some of the guests. I’m not known for my smiles and tenderness.
“You look way too happy for someone who’s just honoring a blood oath,” Viktor teases from my side.
“Shut up, Viktor.” There’s no bite to my bark, though. I am happy, extremely happy. Happier that I have a right to be.
He grins, then hands me a wooden carving. It’s not one of an animal this time, as he usually whittles. This is of a man and woman holding hands and facing each other. The woman looks up at the man, a sweet smile on her lips. Recognition is slow to dawn but then I realize the figures greatly resemble me and Ivy!
Words fail me. I stare at the figurine, then back at Viktor. He smiles knowingly.
“Oh, Viktor!” Ivy says, her eyes fixed on the wooden carving. She looks up and blinks, a tear slipping from her eye. “This is so beautiful. Thank you!”
Viktor just nods, uncomfortable with compliments, but I can see the pleasure from Ivy’s praise shining in his eyes.
Once dinner has finished, we go into the main room where a pianist and harpist begin playing music. Some of the guests file into the middle of the room and start dancing, but I’ve got other things in mind. I turn to Viktor and nod.
“Make sure no one disturbs us,” I say low enough that only he hears my words.
Viktor nods. “I’ve got double guards outside as well. No one is getting in here tonight.”
I nod in thanks then seek out Ivy. She’s chatting with Aunt Daria and some other ladies, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Another smile tugs at my lips at the way my family has not only accepted her, but they have embraced her into the family.
And now it’s time to make it official.
I feel a little guilty stealing her away from her own celebration, but my patience does have a limit. And I’m through waiting.
I walk over to her and smile at my aunt and the other ladies before turning my gaze on Ivy. “Excuse me, Ladies, but I need to steal my bride away for a few minutes.”
My aunt gives me a knowing smile and the other ladies try to hide their grins behind their hands.
Ivy smiles, oblivious to the inside joke. “Of course,” she tells me, then to the others, “Thank you so much for your kindness.”
“Have I told you yet how beautiful you look?” I ask Ivy as I lead her with a hand on her elbow toward the stairs.
She blushes and shakes her head. “No, but then I haven’t told you how handsome you look, either.”
“So you think I’m handsome?” I ask with a raised eyebrow, the corner of my mouth quirking upward.
She makes a noise that suspiciously sounds like a snort. “You know you are, so don’t even pretend to be surprised.” She pauses to frown slightly as she realizes we’re climbing the stairs. “Where are we going?”
“To bed,” I answer bluntly. “It’s time to make our marriage officially legal.”
25
IVY
The latch to Konstantin’s bedroom door falls into place with a quiet click, his words that he was taking me “to bed” to “make it official” burning through my body. A lamp burns low on the bedside table, turning brass into honey.
His heated gaze never leaves my face as he leads me to the foot of the bed. That look carries heat and promise, and my lower belly tightens in response.
“Nothing and no one will interrupt us tonight,” Konstantin says, his voice rough but full of promise.
A shiver goes down my spine. My mouth suddenly goes dry, so I just nod. He is so handsome, it almost hurts my eyes. His suit, which looks like it had to have been sewn on him since it fits so well, is still pristine, but sometime during the ceremony, he must have grown irritated with the tie. It sits loosened around his throat now, and the first two buttons of his white shirt hang open, revealing more of his tattoo than I’ve seen yet.
The ink travels up his chest and wraps around his neck. My hands itch to remove his shirt and uncover the rest of the tat, but somehow, I restrain myself.
His fingers skim my cheekbone and pause at the comb hidden in my hair. He eases it free, setting the veil on the chair by the bed. I’ve never been in Konstantin’s bedroom, but I’m too distracted to notice anything but a huge bed that takes dominance in the center of the room.
