Page 113 of Bound

A shiver moves through me.

“Do you pledge to care for and protect her as your own blood?”

“We do.”

My throat closes.

“And how long will you hold Erin and Lucian in your care?”

The answer comes from every direction.

“Forever.”

I break.

There is no elegant way to describe it.

I cry.

The older man smiles. “Welcome home, Erin Bachman.”

Erin Bachman.

I close my eyes.

For years, names were survival.

Fake names.

Last names that connected me to people who hurt us.

Names on bills.

Names on records.

Names I gave men because I could not trust them with the real one.

Now I have one I chose.

I look up at Lucian.

“Erin Bachman.”

His face changes.

Pride.

Love.

Possession, because he is still himself.

But something gentler beneath it.

“My wife.”

“My husband.”

The river carries us past Manhattan.