Page 111 of Rapture's Edge (Night Prowler 3)
But D moved to follow, and she let herself be led away, wrapped in the circle of his arms.
The wedding was a simple and solemn affair, vows and rings exchanged under a canopy of pine boughs and wildflowers deep in the ancient, wild woods at Sommerley.
Eliana had insisted it be outdoors, and at night. Number two and three of her top three favorite things, she said, and D knew without asking what number one was, because she showed him every day in a million different ways.
Lix and Constantine were there, of course, along with Celian, who officiated. Jenna and Leander were the witnesses, as were a host of tiny, unseen woodland creatures, drawn in curiosity to the small clearing ringed in candles, the play of light throu
gh the trees and the sound of voices, hushed and reverent.
D repeated the words he’d said to his love before, and now she said them back, the vows of honor and loyalty, the ritual words that would bind them for life.
In truth, they were already bound beyond what any words could prove. They were bound by chains that could never be broken, the chains of love that bind stronger than the most flame-tempered steel. And as he looked into his beloved’s tear-filled eyes as she solemnly swore her oaths to him in a soft, shaking voice, D couldn’t help but feel something he’d never felt before in his life.
Blessed.
The past few months had been an extraordinary blend of happiness and hope, chaos and confusion, and life-altering changes for them all. After an initial meeting between the Bellatorum and the Council of Alphas, the Roman colony had joined the confederacy and accepted Jenna as their Queen. And what a meeting it had been! Expecting to find D and Eliana jailed or tortured—or worse—the three other members of the Bellatorum had arrived at Sommerley mere hours after D. They’d burst into the manor in much the same way he had, and they’d been brought to their knees as he had, but for a far different reason.
A beautiful, pure white peregrine falcon had flown into the high-ceilinged throne room through an open window. It made three lazy turns above the warriors’ heads, soaring with silent grace as they stared up with craned necks and open mouths, then sailed down and perched atop the carved wooden back of one of the thrones, shook out its tail feathers, and waited with unmoving patience while Leander approached, holding out a robe of heavy, embroidered ivory silk. The white falcon turned into a shimmering cloud of mist and funneled inside the robe, slowly ruffling and filling the fabric, until the shape of a woman emerged. The woman tied the sash around her waist and turned to face the warriors with a warm smile of welcome.
One by one, silently, they had taken a knee and bowed their heads in respect.
And when the Queen of the Ikati inquired as to why, it was Celian who answered her, by shrugging off his coat and lifting the sleeve of his shirt, displaying the tattoo of the Eye of Horus on his muscular left shoulder, the tattoo all the Bellatorum shared.
An ancient symbol of protection and royal power, the Eye of Horus was the crest of the Egyptians’ patron god, one of the oldest and most significant gods of Egypt, the city from which the Ikati of the Roman catacombs traced their lineage.
God of vengeance, god of war, Horus was always depicted in the ancient texts and hieroglyphs as a peregrine falcon.
It was taken as a sign. And when the Bellatorum found out that he and Eliana were well, had been declared friends and family, and furthermore that no harm would come to any of them or their colony by the Queen’s decree, it was taken as another sign.
The choice to join the confederacy had been easy after that.
What hadn’t been easy, for D at least: accepting Alexi.
He begrudgingly admitted that the man had stayed true to his word. He’d helped all the remaining members of Eliana’s small colony in Paris reunite with their old colony in Rome, and he’d made sure no trace of them could be found for any of their enemies who might be looking. But that didn’t make D like him any more.
It made the Queen like Eliana more, however. As it turned out, the two of them were of one mind when it came to seeing humans and Ikati live together peacefully. The Queen herself was half human, after all. It was a goal that looked highly unlikely in light of what Caesar had done, but a goal the two of them had decided to work toward nonetheless. Their existence was no longer a secret, and the threats to them had multiplied a thousandfold, but the Queen had refused to leave Sommerley, and Eliana had refused to leave the Queen.
“She knows what it’s like to be a woman in a man’s world, Demetrius,” his love had said. “Besides, I’ve always wanted a sister.” Then she’d given him a toe-curling kiss that made him forget what they’d been talking about in the first place.
So they’d stayed the last few months at Sommerley, planning for the future. Planning for this beautiful wedding, which was now coming to a close.
“You may kiss your bride,” Celian murmured with a glance at D and a slow, lazy grin spreading across his face. Celian unwound the silk cord that bound D’s wrists to Eliana’s and stepped back, his hands clasped behind his back.
And when Eliana blinked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining, her pulse fluttering wildly in the base of her throat, D cupped her face in his hands and lowered his forehead to hers.
“To forever,” he murmured.
“Forever,” she murmured back, a tear slipping down her cheek.
Then, with his heart like a hammer in his chest, D pressed his lips to hers.
Light through lashes.
Fingertips brushed lightly across his lips.
D opened his eyes and looked into Eliana’s. It was morning, and they’d only been at Sommerley for two days. Realizing what had just happened, he began to chuckle. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her to his chest, laughing into her hair.
“What’s so funny?” she murmured.
