Page 116 of In the Dark

Tía Perla was trembling as I got to her side and leaned in to hug her. A small, broken sob escaped her lips as she whispered, “I’m just trying to protect you from him, mija. Remember that, okay?”

I squeezed her hand once, not sure if I could say any words at the moment, not sure I could console her any more than that.

Instead, I turned to find the man who had proven to be more of an anchor to me than anyone else.

I turned to look at my groom, to take in the man I knew I could trust, to get lost in his gaze instead of anyone else’s.

Callahan stood under a canopy of white-and-blue roses framed by the bleeding rays of the sunset. He didn’t look like a groom; he looked like a conqueror. As a member of the secret Diamond society, he was supposed to be a ghost, a myth of power. But here, he was terrifyingly real. Unbreakable. Eternal.

He stood with a lethal, quiet stillness that commanded the very air in the lungs of everyone present. He was a god among men in his all-black suit, but I saw the sparkle in his eyes as they locked with mine. I saw how his muscles tensed a little, like he was trying to restrain himself.

I took the final step, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. He reached out, his large, warm hand enveloping mine. He brought my hand to his lips, his gaze locked on mine with a terrifying intensity.

“My viper,” he murmured against my skin.

The world went silent. I didn’t hear the officiant. I didn’t hear the wind in the trees. His voice burrowed deep into my marrow, setting up a permanent home in the parts of me I thought were only for myself.

I moved through the ceremony like I was in a trance. I think I whispered “I do.” I think I smiled for the cameras. But all I truly felt were his eyes—heavy, dark, and possessive.

When it was time to seal the deal, Callahan didn’t just lean in. He stepped forward, his massive frame eclipsing the sun, casting me in his shadow. He placed his hands on my cheeks, his palms rough and commanding. Before I could breathe, he shifted his body, turning his back to the crowd. He used his broad shoulders as a shield, blocking the view of every socialite and spy in the audience.

“What are you doing?” I stuttered, my hands clutching his lapels for balance.

“Not giving them the show they want,” he growled, his voice dropping to a low, carnal vibration. His eyes dropped to my lips, darkened by a hunger that made my knees weak. “It’s only about you and me, Viper. And I’m giving you and me exactly what we need now.”

He crushed his mouth to mine.

It wasn’t a polite kiss for the public. It was a deep, soul-stripping claim like he was marking every inch of my soul before the world could try to take me back. It tasted of him, of trust, and of that signature dark, obsessive promise he always gave me. It tasted of love.

Because I did love him. Because I’d fallen for the enemy. And I molded myself to him, not caring at all.

He kissed me like it was the first time and the last time.

Maybe it was. We were different now. We were married.

We’d be different married.

We’d answer to so many more. We’d done it for them, but it felt like this kiss was for us.

For better or for worse.

As he pulled away, his thumb swiped a stray tear from my cheek. And I realized with a jolt, I was crying.

Jasmina Ruiz never cried.

But I wasn’t Jasmina Ruiz anymore.

I was Jasmina Knight.

35

Callahan

FUCK.

Fuck.

Fuck.