Magic Binds
Page 95
“That’s a shame.” He stuck his head in. “Oh, hi, Mom.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Everybody is ready. Also Curran says if you want to elope, there’s still time.”
“She doesn’t want to elope!” Fiona said. “She wants to showcase this dress.”
“Roman says for you to come out and take your seats.”
“Okay, okay, we’re coming.” Desandra got up. “Tell him to keep his black panties on.”
Ascanio squinted at me. “You are gorgeous, Alpha.”
“Go away,” Martina told him.
Everyone filed out of the tent one by one. Only the witches were left.
“The boy is right,” my aunt said next to me. “You make a passable bride. Miracle of miracles.”
“Thanks.”
The three witches stared at Erra by my side. I had taken her to them after the battle. We talked for a while. Plans were made. Curran wouldn’t like them, but sometimes the hardest choice was the right one.
“We’ve talked with our people,” Evdokia said.
“What you suggested is possible,” Sienna said.
“We’ll need a conduit,” Maria added.
“Then find one,” Erra said. “She is already doing enough.”
“It’s easier said than done,” Evdokia said. “That’s an awful lot of power to channel. A mere human won’t do.”
“Is that a yes or a no?” I asked.
“It’s a yes.” Evdokia looked like she was about to cry. “Unless we find another way.”
“There is no other way,” Erra said.
“We could ask the White Warlock,” Sienna said.
The two other women turned to her.
“You’ve lost your mind,” Evdokia said.
“Her? You want to ask that abomination?” Maria looked like she’d spit to the side, then thought better of it.
“She has enough power,” Sienna said.
“Come on.” Evdokia shepherded them out of the tent. “We’ll talk about it later.”
The tent was empty except for me and my aunt. I looked in the mirror. My hair fell loose. The dress clasped my shoulders with white embroidery that shimmered as if made of silver. The breathtakingly patterned gown curved over my breasts, dipping between them lower than I would’ve ever dared, and hugged my waist before sliding over my hips and butt. The shimmering white skirt was all diaphanous layers, so thin that they moved even now at the slightest draft. The dress should’ve been heavy because of the embroidery, but instead it felt and looked so light, as if made of clouds. I looked like a fairy-tale princess.
I turned and walked to the tent flap. Outside a bonfire roared. Between the tent and the flames, tables stood groaning with food and flowers. The rows of chairs were filled with people: the Pack, the Masters of the Dead, Luther and the ifrit hound, the Order, Teddy Jo, Beau and his deputies . . .
Everybody was here. My heart hammered.
At the fire, Roman stood in a black robe etched with silver. Next to him Curran waited. He wore a tuxedo. Jim stood on his right. On the other side, Dali waited. She was my maid of honor.
Curran bent forward and said something to Roman. Roman nodded.
I was getting married. Dear God.
“Is he worth it?” Erra asked.
“Always.”
Music started, sweet and haunting. It was my cue to go on.
The magic was so thick tonight. It was all around me. The flower vines draped on the trees glowed weakly with a magical golden light, mirroring the strings of feylanterns strung above the tables. The woods didn’t look real.
I would walk to the altar and I would get married. But I had to take that first step.
I swallowed and walked out. Everyone fell quiet. Curran turned. His mouth opened. He stared at me, like he’d never seen me before.
Just keep walking.
I reached the altar. A little girl stepped up next to me, holding a ring on a pillow. A little boy stood next to Curran holding an identical pillow with another ring.
My future husband remembered to close his mouth.
Roman was talking. I heard his voice, but I was looking at Curran and he was looking at me.
“Love is a complicated thing,” Roman said. “For some it’s fleeting and fickle. People fall in love fast and then they fall out of it faster than they can blink. For others, it’s a lifelong commitment. It can render you helpless or give you power. It can bring you bliss or misery. But true love, the one that endures through time, love that is pure joy, love that nothing in this world can shatter, that kind of love is rare. The two people standing before me today have it. They fought for it, they endured for it, and they earned it. Tonight we are privileged to celebrate their love with them.”
Curran was grinning. I grinned back.
“Repeat after me,” Roman said. “I, Curran Lennart . . .”
“I, Curran Lennart,” Curran said, “take you, Kate Daniels, to be my friend, my lover, the mother of my children, and my wife. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, in failure and in triumph. I promise to love no other, to cherish and respect you, to care for you and protect you, and stay with you, for all eternity.”
I held out my hand and he slipped a ring on my finger.
“Your turn,” Roman told me. “I, Kate Daniels . . .”
“I, Kate Daniels, take you, Curran Lennart, to be my friend, my lover, the father of my children, and my husband. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, in failure and in triumph. I promise to love no other, to cherish and respect you, to care for you and protect you, and stay with you, for all eternity.”
I took the ring from the pillow and slid it on his finger.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Roman said. “May your life be rich in blessings and poor in misfortunes. May you see your children’s children grow up and make you proud. May your fights be short, your laughter loud, and your passion hot. May you live long and die happy. You may now kiss each other.”
Curran reached for me. I kissed him and the world faded.
We broke apart, turned, and I saw my father standing behind the tables, wrapped in his cloak. He smiled at me and vanished.
Roman waved his arm and a murder of crows shot out of the forest, flew above our heads and up into the sky.
She rolled her eyes.
“Everybody is ready. Also Curran says if you want to elope, there’s still time.”
“She doesn’t want to elope!” Fiona said. “She wants to showcase this dress.”
“Roman says for you to come out and take your seats.”
“Okay, okay, we’re coming.” Desandra got up. “Tell him to keep his black panties on.”
Ascanio squinted at me. “You are gorgeous, Alpha.”
“Go away,” Martina told him.
Everyone filed out of the tent one by one. Only the witches were left.
“The boy is right,” my aunt said next to me. “You make a passable bride. Miracle of miracles.”
“Thanks.”
The three witches stared at Erra by my side. I had taken her to them after the battle. We talked for a while. Plans were made. Curran wouldn’t like them, but sometimes the hardest choice was the right one.
“We’ve talked with our people,” Evdokia said.
“What you suggested is possible,” Sienna said.
“We’ll need a conduit,” Maria added.
“Then find one,” Erra said. “She is already doing enough.”
“It’s easier said than done,” Evdokia said. “That’s an awful lot of power to channel. A mere human won’t do.”
“Is that a yes or a no?” I asked.
“It’s a yes.” Evdokia looked like she was about to cry. “Unless we find another way.”
“There is no other way,” Erra said.
“We could ask the White Warlock,” Sienna said.
The two other women turned to her.
“You’ve lost your mind,” Evdokia said.
“Her? You want to ask that abomination?” Maria looked like she’d spit to the side, then thought better of it.
“She has enough power,” Sienna said.
“Come on.” Evdokia shepherded them out of the tent. “We’ll talk about it later.”
The tent was empty except for me and my aunt. I looked in the mirror. My hair fell loose. The dress clasped my shoulders with white embroidery that shimmered as if made of silver. The breathtakingly patterned gown curved over my breasts, dipping between them lower than I would’ve ever dared, and hugged my waist before sliding over my hips and butt. The shimmering white skirt was all diaphanous layers, so thin that they moved even now at the slightest draft. The dress should’ve been heavy because of the embroidery, but instead it felt and looked so light, as if made of clouds. I looked like a fairy-tale princess.
I turned and walked to the tent flap. Outside a bonfire roared. Between the tent and the flames, tables stood groaning with food and flowers. The rows of chairs were filled with people: the Pack, the Masters of the Dead, Luther and the ifrit hound, the Order, Teddy Jo, Beau and his deputies . . .
Everybody was here. My heart hammered.
At the fire, Roman stood in a black robe etched with silver. Next to him Curran waited. He wore a tuxedo. Jim stood on his right. On the other side, Dali waited. She was my maid of honor.
Curran bent forward and said something to Roman. Roman nodded.
I was getting married. Dear God.
“Is he worth it?” Erra asked.
“Always.”
Music started, sweet and haunting. It was my cue to go on.
The magic was so thick tonight. It was all around me. The flower vines draped on the trees glowed weakly with a magical golden light, mirroring the strings of feylanterns strung above the tables. The woods didn’t look real.
I would walk to the altar and I would get married. But I had to take that first step.
I swallowed and walked out. Everyone fell quiet. Curran turned. His mouth opened. He stared at me, like he’d never seen me before.
Just keep walking.
I reached the altar. A little girl stepped up next to me, holding a ring on a pillow. A little boy stood next to Curran holding an identical pillow with another ring.
My future husband remembered to close his mouth.
Roman was talking. I heard his voice, but I was looking at Curran and he was looking at me.
“Love is a complicated thing,” Roman said. “For some it’s fleeting and fickle. People fall in love fast and then they fall out of it faster than they can blink. For others, it’s a lifelong commitment. It can render you helpless or give you power. It can bring you bliss or misery. But true love, the one that endures through time, love that is pure joy, love that nothing in this world can shatter, that kind of love is rare. The two people standing before me today have it. They fought for it, they endured for it, and they earned it. Tonight we are privileged to celebrate their love with them.”
Curran was grinning. I grinned back.
“Repeat after me,” Roman said. “I, Curran Lennart . . .”
“I, Curran Lennart,” Curran said, “take you, Kate Daniels, to be my friend, my lover, the mother of my children, and my wife. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, in failure and in triumph. I promise to love no other, to cherish and respect you, to care for you and protect you, and stay with you, for all eternity.”
I held out my hand and he slipped a ring on my finger.
“Your turn,” Roman told me. “I, Kate Daniels . . .”
“I, Kate Daniels, take you, Curran Lennart, to be my friend, my lover, the father of my children, and my husband. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, in failure and in triumph. I promise to love no other, to cherish and respect you, to care for you and protect you, and stay with you, for all eternity.”
I took the ring from the pillow and slid it on his finger.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Roman said. “May your life be rich in blessings and poor in misfortunes. May you see your children’s children grow up and make you proud. May your fights be short, your laughter loud, and your passion hot. May you live long and die happy. You may now kiss each other.”
Curran reached for me. I kissed him and the world faded.
We broke apart, turned, and I saw my father standing behind the tables, wrapped in his cloak. He smiled at me and vanished.
Roman waved his arm and a murder of crows shot out of the forest, flew above our heads and up into the sky.
