“Ah,” Claudian observed. “I see the entire motley crew has arrived. Please, join us.”
The trio slipped past the prince and the council with hesitant steps. They rushed to Seren with concern on their faces, but I could not take my eyes off my mother and Adina. Araceli and Ignatius shoved them into the corner of the room, unbothered as they crashed into the wall.
“Harkin…” Adina whimpered, and I ached to go to her.
The council turned away, gathering around Prince Claudian as they spoke in hushed tones. Guards filed in, dressed in doublets and velvet, and took their places in the highbacked chairs.
“Harkin.” Seren brushed her hand across my jaw, turning me to face her. “We will free them.”
Her bindings were gone, no thanks to me. I rubbed my hands gently across the raw skin at her wrists. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Seren shook her head, stroking her fingers through the ends of my hair. “This is not your fault.”
Our eyes locked, and in hers—one soft gray and the other deep brown—I saw nothing but the swimming of unspent tears and unbridled affection, love and fear and hope.
“I wanted to marry you,” I whispered on a broken sob.
“You still can.”
“Ren…”
“No, please. Just listen.” Her eyes squeezed shut. “Nothing is going to happen to your family. I swear it. We will make sure they escape unharmed. But I don’t know if the rest of us will make it out of this alive. I want to marry you and bind my soul to yours in this life and the next. If something happens, I want to be sure we’ll find each other again.”
I nodded—against all odds, against my better judgement. My heart answered for me. I could never deny her. “Yes.”
Théo did not hesitate, beginning the traditional Acsillan marriage ceremony in a whisper. Mágik brimmed in his upturned hands.
My soul answered his call, rising like a swell in my chest.
I pulled Seren closer, my fingers trailing delicately over her hair. It was tangled and bloody. She was not dressed in a wedding gown, butin torn trousers and a bloodstained shirt. Yet I could not imagine a more incredible sight. I was ever caught by the pull of her gravity.
I traced the shape of her freckles, drawing them into a constellation for her name.
“Harkin, please recite the vows of the soul binding,” Théo directed. His hand cupped the back of my neck, mágik sparking like tiny lightning bolts.
“Seren, the first time we spoke, I realized I was so far out of my depth. You were infuriating—not because I could not stand you, but because I could not stay away. You saw straight through me, to my very core. I love you, Seren Corso Sgalier. I aminlove with you. On this day, and for the rest of my days, I bind my mind, my heart, and my soul to yours. I wish to never be parted from you. Long after I breathe my last breath, in this life and the next, I am forever yours.” I had never found the words before, with anyone else, but for Seren they flowed off my lips as a pen upon parchment.
Flawless, easy, right.
Tears slipped over Seren’s cheeks, and I bent forward to kiss them away, forgetting everything save for her. It wasn’t until her thumbs trailed along my face that I realized I had been crying too.
“Harkin,” she whispered, her voice brimming with affection. “I spent so many years guarding my heart, rejecting connection and intimacy for fear of heartbreak—of losing the one I love the most. I thought it better to feel nothing than to feel everything, but you have proven me wrong. In every touch and glance and whispered conversation about the things I hold dear, you have accepted me. I am not Ordelésan or Acsillan. I am neither and both, and you accepted me without hesitation.
“You once asked me who I loved unfathomably… The answer is you, Harkin Aranti.I love you unfathomably. So, on this day, and for the rest of my days, I bind my mind, my heart, and my soul to yours. I wish to never be parted from you. Long after I breathe my last breath, in this life and the next, I am forever yours.”
I drew Seren into my arms, holding her close.
My wife.
I captured her lips with my own, our breaths intermingling. I kissed her deeply, slowly—then ravenously, as if it were the very first time and as if it could be the very last.
Chapter sixty-five
Seren
The tall, arching door to the orangery shuddered open once more. Its wooden edge slammed against the wall with a discordant sound that rang through the glass atrium and ended in deafening silence.
Lady Lydia Adiran stalked forward—a predator hunting her prey.
