Page 902 of Coal Hearts

The feed cut off as if the fire had finally chewed through the connection.

“Well, shit.” With slightly shaking hands, I turned my phone off and tucked it back into my pocket. I shrugged. “Serves him right.”

I felt Q’s eyes on me, tense and assessing. “I haven’t asked you this as I didn’t really want to know but...what he did to you—the things you endured while his slave, are you...? Do you have nightmares? Did it...change you?”

Glancing back at the circus of guests below, hearing the twinkle of their laughter and feeling the heat of their happiness, the shadow of evil hanging around dispersed as quickly as the video had cut off. “You’re asking if it broke me?”

“Did it?” he asked simply.

I shrugged again. “I didn’t survive for me.” I searched the guests for my betrothed. “I survived for her. I endured for her. He tried to use love to break me, but the opposite happened.” I turned to face my half-brother. “Love fixed me. Healed me. Victor gave me something I would never have been capable of accepting before.”

“What?”

“You. Her. This.” I smiled. “I’m thankful you made me go. I’ll never again question fate’s path because I found her in a place I would never have gone to otherwise.” I exhaled with so much gratitude. “So many parts of me died on that island, yet so many parts were reborn. He didn’t break me, brother. He set me free.”

Our eyes held again.

Some dark understanding passed between us.

Finally he nodded, clapped his hands, and headed toward the door. As if we hadn’t just watched a gruesome stabbing or discussed my past abuse, he snapped, “Stop tapping away on that damn laptop and get down there. Everyone will be wondering if you’re getting cold feet.”

Accepting the change of subject as if it’d never happened, I grinned. “Never.” Stepping toward the desk, I added, “I was writing my vows, by the way. Or that was the plan until I got distracted.”

“You always get distracted when you’re playing with that thing. What are you doing anyway? Writing your memoirs?” He laughed under his breath, mocking the very thing he was just so serious about.

Glancing at the screen, I slapped the laptop closed and followed him. My fingers strayed to my pocket where Ily’s ring waited. “Let’s just say I’m using fact as fiction.”

Striding into the corridor, we walked side by side. The scents of sugary desserts and savoury dishes wafted from the kitchen. We’d hired ten chefs to feed this giant wedding party. Every one of Q’s guest rooms were taken, along with ours in the gatehouse. We’d also booked out three boutique hotels.

“I have no idea where you get your love of reading from.” Q shrugged and opened the patio door for me. Sidestepping, he added, “You’ve always got your nose in a book.”

“It was my only escape when I was younger.”

He frowned as if that upset him. We stepped onto the patio and a flurry of activity started. Guests moved to their chairs, holding glasses of champagne. Peter grinned and strode toward the altar to take his place as best man. His girlfriend, Lucy—the daughter of a pub owner where he’d worked until he bought it off her father on a lease to own basis—bounced my chubby daughter on her hip.

Every cell in my body needed to hold her.

Ily and I had agreed to let everyone take turns holding Priti during the ceremony. Her grandparents, her uncles, aunties, cousins, and anyone who wanted a cuddle. Not only was Peter my best man but he’d also kindly accepted the role of godfather—just like I’d accepted the role of godfather for Rachel’s son, Asher.

Glancing around, I caught Rachel in the throng of colour. Her vibrant blue dress matched all the other stunning fabrics. She waved where she already sat with her boy neatly dressed and well-behaved beside her.

We’d asked Rachel to stay for a few days after the wedding.

I wanted to get to know my godson and then we’d fly with them back to Spain where we planned on starting our honeymoon.

“They’re watching us,” Q muttered under his breath looking anywhere but the two half-siblings who’d accepted my invitation. I had no idea who’d come or where they’d been living but I recognised them as one of us.

The same dark colouring. The same mistrusting eyes.

After.

After the ceremony, then we could talk.

Right now...I had a wife to bind.

“Come on, Mercer.” Striding up the white carpet, I took my place at the top of the altar. Tess followed us and took her place beside two other bridesmaids that’d flown in from Ily’s village.

“Took your bloody time.” Peter leaned toward me, smiling at Q as he took his place beside him. “Getting cold feet, Master H?”