Nazzareno’s eyes searched the room. He nodded to a bouquet of white lilies in a display on the shelf above the fireplace. Beni plucked one from the group and handed it to him. Nazzareno handed it to me, and a droplet of his blood ran down its petal.
If it would have been a rose, the petals would have dropped off with how bad I was shaking.
The clergyman cleared his throat, and in extremely broken English, read traditional vows.
Aristide handed Nazzareno a ring when it was time, and Nazzareno slipped it on my finger.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I tried to repeat mine. I couldn’t. My mouth refused to open.
Nazzareno turned my face toward his, holding it in place, kissing it, and then whispered against my lips, “You are not dooming me, my beautiful bird, you are giving me life.”
My voice was hoarse as I repeated the same words he had.
Beni handed me a ring, and I slipped it on Nazzareno’s left finger.
The clergyman pronounced us as husband and wife.
As softly as before, Nazzareno’s lips came against mine, but in a kiss that was powerful enough to draw my soul out of hiding.
His too.
Our combined breaths tangled like cords, and when we pulled away, but not far, our breaths lingered between us as he gave a nod to the door.
The men all left at his silent order.
And we were alone.
* * *
If my heart was running before, it went into a deep drum beat between us in the silence. And at the look in my husband’s eyes, it was about to fly clear out of my chest.
He was possessive before.
He was consuming then.
I wondered if he held out his hand, would he watch as my heart with wings landed, eating straight from his massive palm.
His forever.
Locked in a cage and flying free.
“Nazzareno,” I whispered, because I couldn’t take the intense look in his eyes for a second longer.
“No,” he whispered, undoing my hair, slipping his hand through it. “Call me the name only you will call me.”
My eyes searched his. “My husband.”
His fingers tightened against my scalp, and he pulled me close, setting his head against mine. “And you aremywife.” He growled low in his throat, and then claimed my mouth in a kiss that stole my breath.
Lifting me off my feet, he carried me into the dining room, and after setting me down on the table, he took a step back. His nostrils flared, he was breathing heavy, but I knew it wasn’t from carrying me.
He was overcome by…emotions.
I could feel them swirling between us, creating a storm.
“You carry the Fausti name now,” he said, his accent heavier. He punched his chest. “Myname. No one will ever be able to take it from you. It is in your blood. It is the reason you have followed the flow of it, straight to me. It led you to your shelter in this world.”
“Your heart,” I whispered.
