Page 32 of Lethal Saint

Someone else whistled. Multiple someones.

They were a brightly coloured carnival rushing down the aisle in all shapes, sizes, and ages, with varying expressions—huge smiles, sharp glee, curiosity, and scowling reluctance. I could only stare in shock.

Damien lifted his head to glare at the Knight—Jonathan—where he sat in the first pew with his habitual frown.

“Don’t look at me. This is all the King’s doing.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. I should have realised, should have at least guessed who the other man sitting in the pew was.The King,one of the most dangerous, most powerful men in the whole country. His reputation was a thousand times worse than the Saint’s, and Damien committed mass murder. Twice. This was his father and the head of the crime family.

I gulped, but the greying, barrel-chested man only smiled. He threw me a wink and said, “Welcome to the family, Vasilisa.”

CHAPTER 12

DAMIEN

“Sorry about the riffraff,” I said, stroking my thumb over the gold band on Vasilisa’s finger, violently possessive of it, of her. “I did try to keep this band of crazies away from you for longer.”

“I don’t mind,” she replied, leaning into my side where we’d all gathered outside the church. Dad was our reluctant wedding photographer; the family dressed in their best clothes and had decided, without our permission, to have photos with all of us to commemorate the day. Not that I was mad about the pictures Dad took of my wife and I.

My wife.

We’d only escaped for a few moments while Dad took photos of my cousins and their nightmares. Sorry, I meanchildren.

“It’s nice,” she added, watching them, her eyes open and unafraid. Her voice was wistful and that just made me sad. “My family is nothing like this. Yours is—loud, but kind.”

“Ours,” I corrected, dropping a kiss on her temple and marvelling that this goddess was mine. She peered up at me, her mouth parted, lips cherry red and so damn kissable. “These lunatics are yours, too.”

“Hey!” my brother Stefan protested, his eyes narrowing. “I heard that, asshole. Stop calling us names behind our backs. You’ll turn our sweet new sister against us.”

I snorted, stroking Vasilisa’s wedding ring again. “I’ll call you names to your face too.”

Stefan’s eyes turned to slits before he faced Vasilisa and gave her a beaming smile. Looking at him, golden and sunny and harmless, it was easy to forget he was the most rotten inside of all of us. “Don’t listen to him. We’re all angels, and we’re thrilled to have you.”

Vasilisa glanced away, colour in her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Stefan, stop bugging the newlyweds and come take a photo of me and your sisters in our finery,” Dad yelled from the middle of the courtyard where they were using a cherry blossom tree as a backdrop. “Feel free to jump in too, Vasilisa.”

She glanced up at me, either for reassurance or permission. I kissed the top of her head and gave her an encouraging little push. Her eyes widened with a shot of panic, but I tucked an errant strand of curly blonde hair behind her ear and let the touch linger. She wanted family, craved being a part of it if the longing in her voice was any indication.

“I’ll be right here where you can see me. I’m not going anywhere. Unless I get mauled by my brothers, which is a genuine possibility.”

She laughed softly, and victory had my blood buzzing in my ears. I made her laugh. “You’re sure it’s okay? I don’t want to intrude—”

“On your own wedding day? They’re the ones intruding, fucking busybodies.” I forced myself to release her. “Go, be part of your new family.”

The quiet joy on her face made me want to torture every member of her family for denying her this happiness. A strange blend of pride, happiness, and murderous rage swelled in my chest as she shyly crossed the courtyard to approach Dad, Rae, and Wyn. I had to make every day of her life amazing to make up for the happiness she’d been denied before we met, for the hellish way we did meet.

“What is that strange thing on your face?” Vincent, my older brother by two years asked, leaning against the church wall beside me and looking his usual unfriendly, dangerous self. He was the abject opposite of Stefan, his head shaved instead of perfectly golden, his face sharp and scowling instead of rugged and grinning, and his eyes scanned the wedding party with an intensity that made most people avoid him.

“It’s called a smile.” I rolled my eyes at his remark, not taking my stare off Vasilisa as she was absorbed, almost effortlessly, into my family. Rae threw her arms around her while Wyn said something I couldn’t hear from here; Dad watched on with the approachable smile that always set me at ease when I was stressed the fuck out. I watched her relax, bit by bit, until her eyes were bright with happiness again, a little stunned, nervous, but not terrified. My girl. My wife.

“You know what you’re doing?” Vincent asked, watching me with sharp, all-seeing eyes. “Finch isn’t an easy man to cross.”

Oh good, Dad told them everything.

“I’m sure,” I said firmly. “She’s worth anything this brings on us. She’s worth everything.”

Vincent snorted. “The last time I saw you, you were elbow deep in blood and guts, and now look at you. In a fancy suit with a sweet wife. You’re perfectly domesticated.”

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