“Oh, Mádhi.” I stand and hug her. “I’m still yours. I’ll always be yours.”
“I know.” The murmured words creak past her lips.
“I’m going to start crying if you don’t stop, Fal.” Naeva’s voice sounds hoarse, as though Cruaih has been using my cousin’s larynx as a scratching post.
Speaking of Cruaih… The feline meows and paws at the hem of Naeva’s dress.
My cousin crouches and scoops her up, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m going to go lock Little Miss Naughty in my room before Dádhi suffers another syncope.”
“Did he really blackout when he discovered her in your cabin?” Izolda asks.
Though my mother keeps sniffling, the story of Jaytair’s stowaway abates her trembling.
“He didn’t pass out, per se, but he wasfuuuuming.” A smirk pulls across my cousin’s face as she travels toward the suite door. “First with me, because he thought I’d brought her, then with Cruaih, when he realized she’d snuck into my luggage of her own free will.”
Before pumping the handle, she gives the feline’s button nose a bop, which earns her a velvety mewl.
“My intrepid little beast. Braving the northern temperatures to be with us.” She pauses on the threshold, her black eyes glossing with emotion like they did back in Shabbe and then again in Luce. “You look gorgeous, Isles.”
As the door shuts, another opens.
“Out!” Izolda says. “You can’t see the bride before?—”
“We’re blood-and-Crow-bound, Iz.” Even though I’ve yet to turn, I can hear the eyeroll in my mate’s eyes.Unless you prefer I leave?he asks me.
When do Ieverprefer you leave?
“Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted a minute alone with my wife before we no longer have a single minute alone.”
His wife…I will never tire of being Konstantin Korol’s wife, the same way I will never tire of hearing him refer to me as such.
“Of course.” My mother slides her cheeks against mine. “I love you,laenath.”
“Love you too, Mádhi.”
She lifts the tiara to my head and hovers it without spearing it through the twisted front strands. “Actually, I think crowning you should be your mate’s privilege.” She sits the beautiful heirloom back on the table, caresses my cheeks with her waterygaze, then takes Izolda’s arm. “Guide me to the festivities, sweetheart?”
Izolda merrily loops her arm through Mádhi’s. Right before stepping out, she says, “If you mess up her hair or stripes, I will…” Her brow scrunches in search of a clever threat. “…have Fallon cast an itching spell on your wardrobe!”
My mother snorts while Konstantin wings up an eyebrow.
“Noted,” he says with subtle amusement.
As the door snicks shut, I hear Izolda whisper, “Canyou cast that sort of spell?”
My mother can castallthe spells, so I’ve no doubt Izolda’s entertaining threat is feasible. I hope Ilya doesn’t get wind of it, for he’d hex his brother’s clothes just for shits and giggles.
I pinch my flowing train and coil to face my mate, whose metallic irises refract the satin shine of my wedding gown. “It was designed to capture our two traditions. Sky-blue for Glace and the darker hue for Crows. Do you like it?”
“I adore it.”
“You don’t find it too simple?”
“I instructed your uncle to keep it that way.”
That boosts my lashes. “Yougave input on my dress?”
“I just asked that he not go overboard with sequins.”
