She pulled Lily into another fierce embrace. Lily clung to her friend but their embrace was cut short as footsteps echoed from outside. There was a knock on the door and it swung open, revealing Magnus and Emeric on the other side. They had recovered from their injuries and scrubbed up nicely. Their hair was freshly combed and both wore their clan plaids pinned closed with osprey brooches.
“Are ye ready?” Emeric asked. “It’s time.”
Before Lily could reply, Anna swept forward. “Oh, hello, Emeric,” she said, giving him a wide smile. “So nice to see you again.”
Anna had met Emeric, along with the rest of Lily’s new friends, at the pre-wedding dinner last night. She had taken to teasing him incessantly—a sure sign that she was attracted to him.
Emeric bowed, looking a little flustered “And ye, Lady Anna.”
“Oh, isn’t he cute?” Anna said to Lily with a grin. “I’m no lady, Emeric. I can show you howunladylike I can be if you want.”
Emeric blushed to his hairline and Anna let out a wicked laugh.
“Oh, leave the poor man alone will you?” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “You’re scaring him to death.”
With Anna’s arm linked in hers, Lily followed the two men out of the room. As they walked, Anna leaned in conspiratorially. “So, is Emeric single?”
Lily had to stifle a laugh. If only her friend knew the truth—that Emeric was a time traveler from the fifteenth century. “It’s...complicated.”
“Isn’t that what makes it fun?”
As they approached the doors to the hotel’s wedding room, Lily paused, a sudden wave of nerves washing over her. She had dreamt of this moment for so long, had even traveled through time to make it happen. Yet now that the wedding was here, her knees trembled.
Sensing her anxiety, Magnus turned and met her eyes with a reassuring smile. “No need for nerves, lass. Today is a joyous day.” His deep voice was comforting.
Emeric nodded. “Oskar is the luckiest man in Scotland to be marrying ye.”
Lily smiled, bolstered by their words. With her arm still entwined in Anna’s, she lifted her chin and stepped forward.
The doors swung open and there he was, her Oskar, waiting for her at the end of the aisle. He was flanked on either side by Kai and Conall and his eyes locked on hers as she entered, full of unspoken promises.
Her friends and family sat on one side—her aunts and uncles and cousins. A lingering sense of sorrow washed through her that her parents couldn’t be here but she pushed it aside. They were looking down on her, she was sure. Oskar’s guests sat on the other side. Rory Stewart, Kai’s older brother who was part Fae, had brought them all to this century as a wedding gift—and brought a whole contingent of fifteenth century Highlanders and their wives with them as well.
Oskar’s eyes lit up as Lily approached. He looked dashing in his plaid, every bit the Highland warrior. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight and his red hair shone like burnished copper. Something shifted inside her. He was hers, this beautiful, wonderful man. She could hardly believe it.
The room was decorated with wildflowers, sunbeams filtering through the windows but Lily barely noticed her surroundings, unable to take her eyes off Oskar.
He smiled as she joined him. He’d rarely smiled when they first met but now he did it often. Even so, it still had the power to make her stomach flutter.
“Lily,” he breathed, his voice a soft caress that made her skin tingle. He took her hand, her fingers feeling small in his big fist.
“Oskar,” she whispered back, squeezing his hand in return. His palm was warm and calloused, yet it was also tender, gently cradling her own with a soft touch.
“I’m truly blessed,” he murmured. He smoothly pulled her closer, his hands warm and solid on her waist. He leaned in, whispering words meant only for her ears. “Ye look breathtaking.”
She reached up and stroked his cheek, feeling the prickly stubble beneath her fingers.
“Let’s begin,” the celebrant said, her voice carrying throughout the room. “Cherished guests, we are gathered here today...”
Lily could barely focus on what she was saying. She was aware of the words—they were familiar, after all—but all she could think about was Oskar. She drank in his features, the way his jaw tightened when he was nervous, the small twitch of his lips when he tried to hold back his smile. God, how she loved him.
She was pulled from her thoughts as the celebrant asked, “And do you, Oskar, take Lily to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish till death do you part?”
“I do,” Oskar affirmed, his voice steady and certain.
Lily felt a surge of warmth spread through her at his words. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“I do,” she said softly when it came for her time to speak.
