We stay like that, wound together, for a few perfect moments until the joyful glow in my chest finally fades. Rez steals a kiss, then brushes my nose with his.
They unbind me, letting me down gently, and they never stop touching me. Massaging feeling back into my shaky legs, kissing down the length of one arm and then the other.
Rez carries me back to bed and Yaelyn appears with a warm washcloth, cleaning me and then them before tossing it into the bathroom and settling down at my front. His tail goes around my calf, and he kisses me, as sweet as sunshine, as Reznik takes the space on the bed behind me.
I snuggle closer and tug Rez's arm up over my waist, fitting perfectly between them. Where I belong. Where I'll find the strength to wage war against the darkness overtaking the shadow realm. Where I'll find the strength to fall apart when I need to, trusting that these demonkin will build me back up.
"Got you another present," Reznik rumbles, as Yaelyn takes my hand and slides a ring onto my finger.
"Is... is this a—" My breath hitches as I hold it up to the light streaming in the bedroom window. And fuck is itshiny. The glittering crystal catches every beam of light, sparkling just like the snow on the rolling hills of the Welsh countryside.
Yaelyn looks up into my eyes, his slate eyes shining with emotion. "It's whatever you want it to be, Luce. An oath, a promise, a shiny treasure."
"So shiny," I breathe.
"You have us, always and forever," Reznik promises. "Ring or no ring. Whether you want to wed or hand fast or neither. Demonkin don't celebrate Christmas and we don't do rings, but for you, my spark, we would do anything."
"Yes," I say. "Always and forever, yes."
EPILOGUE 2: LIGHT BEARER BRIDAL BOOGALOO
LUCY
Three hundred and, um, fifty-something? days of being a badass(ish) Light Bearer, definitely not nearly lopping off a nip with my lightsaber, saving a whole-ass realm, and getting thoroughly and immaculately railed on just about the daily later…
Oh, and the bit I left out? Three hundred and fifty-something days of being the worst bride in any of the realms. Like being the Light Bearer, reborn centuries after the last Light Bearer, gods rest her soul, being a not-quite-human bride to two very-not-human-and-actually-quite-sexily-demonic grooms didn’t come with an instruction manual.
I’d say I’d go into the instruction manual business because someone should and that someone would make a killing at it, but that person will not be me. Because choo choo, bitches, it’s all aboard the Hot Mess Lucy Express. I am in no way organized enough to launch an instruction manual business, let alone plan my wedding to the men I love. This should be the happiest time of my life! I’ve got kick-ass light powers and a mother-trucking lightsaber! I’m doing good in the realms! I’m getting married!
I’m getting married…probably. Eventually.
But, real talk.
I am not bride material.
Because when Reznik casually brings up who we should invite to our as-of-yet-unscheduled nuptials, I break out in a cold sweat. Listen. Aside from Aron and the veritable hoard of demonkin children that call Shadow House their home, who would I invite? My options are: business associates, people I’ve stolen from, and business associates I’ve stolen from.
And let me tell you. That’d be one fucked up seating chart.
And one fucked up stack of invitations on ivory linen paper. Or was it cream cotton paper?
Fuck me seven ways from seven realms, because I thought paper was made fromtrees.
If I had my way, I’d just shoot Aron a quick ‘waddup, getting hitched’ text and tell him to bring the whole brood.
I’m trying to do this right, and it has mostly led to sobbing over bridal magazines and swatches of lace while eating Nutella straight out of the jar with a spoon. And then maybe trying to lick the rest out with my tongue in the most undignified manner ever.
Don’t judge me, thank you very much. I’m doing that more than well enough on my own. World’s worst fucking bride, that’s me!
Wait, Lucy,I hear you saying.The guys said the sparkly ring on your finger didn’t have to mean a wedding.
Yeah, okay, but Rez has since said, “Well, it can’t hurt to try it on, right?” when we ever-so-coincidentally went blocks and blocks out of our way to stroll past a bridal boutique and a dress caught his eye.
And Yaelyn? “Oh, but a cake tasting will be fun, don’t you think, Mischief? Even if we’re not ready to order a cake yet.”
And, okay, getting treated like an absolute princess at a bougie Soho bakery and drinking champagne while sampling cakeswaskind of a blast. And, obviously, the strawberry chocolate chip cake with cream cheese frosting was our winner. Total no brainer.
Suffice it to say: my men want a wedding.
