The ceremony was short and simple, but love and sincerity filled every minute. Performed just as Scar said, within their community, witnessed and affirmed by their family and peers.
The reception was held inside the atrium.
They ate at the head of a long table with the rest of the Ravens while everyone else sat at tables positioned throughout the room.
The chefs outdid themselves. Even Scar was surprised by how much they’d added to his menu.
With full stomachs and an open bar, people were gathered in the courtyard in loose clusters, talking, laughing, and enjoying.
The place had never felt like this—carefree, fun, almost normal. It was a break from the crime, hard rules, and scary world they vowed to defend, so everyone was taking advantage.
Gage was relaxing outside on an oversized lounge chair— with his brothers, their handlers, and a few members of their teams—around a wide marble table with a lava-rock smokeless firepit in the center.
He shared the chair with his husband, leaning into him with his back to his chest. Scar had one arm over his shoulder and the other snaked around his waist.
Scar’s scent hit him each time he inhaled, that fresh shave scent, clean cologne, layered with a hint of danger. A heady combination making his stomach flutter and his cock stay half-hard the entire evening.
Ex was ribbing the hell out of Scar, telling everyone how badly he was freaking out all week. And his ridiculous instructions.
“I need more flowers, the fragrances gotta pop! And get some birds in here to be tweeting and singing or some shit,” Ex mocked in Scar’s deep voice.
Gage laughed along with the other bystanders.
The caged blue jays and robins sounded beautiful. He thought the Greens orchestrated that.
His husband had built this whole night around him. The flowers, the scents, the fountain, lantern oils, wide-open space…the birds.
He’d even chosen to have the ceremony at dusk, his favorite time of day.
He took their linked hands and kissed the simple gold band on Scar’s index finger.
“Shut the fuck up, Ex.” Scar bit. “Y’all are just pissed because I’m making the rest of you motherfuckers look bad.”
Ex and Elias kept the table entertained with stories of his and Scar’s pre-wedding jitters while he and his husband retreated into their own bubble.
Scar leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of his ear. “You won’t believe this.”
He shifted slightly, already smiling. “What?”
“Your boy Roz is wrapped up tight with your doctor on the dancefloor.”
Gage’s mouth fell open. “With Dr. Rockwell?”
Scar grinned against his temple. “Yep. And she’s giving off some serious vibes too.”
“Wow. I had a feeling they were into each other. They argued too much.” He tilted his head, giving Scar more room. “As far as I know, he hasn’t dated anyone since Shannon died.”
“Yeah? Good for him then,” Scar said quietly.
He turned into Scar, toward the love pouring off him.
“You smell edible,” he whispered.
He slid his fingers into Scar’s hair and combed through the feather-soft locks. He loved that it gave him an idea of what the color white felt like to the touch.
It made him feel special that Scar had worn it down for him. He knew how much he hated it, but he’d done it anyway.
“Aren’t we allowed to leave while everyone else eats and drinks the night away?”
