Page 177 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

“I think they’re handling it pretty fucking well,” I muttered. That had been the second surprise of last night. My mother had kept her word, sending for Camila’s children after Willem’s death. According to my twin, she’d been vague on exactly where she’d been keeping them safe, saying they’d been at a very private academy, sent there by their parents until they hit maturity. I had no idea what private school could handle adolescent vampires, but no one wanted to question Sabine’s generosity.

My sister had graciously announced Sabine could be the family matriarch again.

“Looks like it’s showtime,” Lysander said as the priest made his way toward us.

There had been some debate as to whether a Queen or the clergy should preside over the ceremony. But with Zina still unconscious, Mariana had opted to stay with her. I doubted Thea would mind.

“I’m told we’re ready to begin.” He tipped his head in greeting to us. “Will your other brothers stand with you?”

My eyes scanned the crowd past his shoulders until they landed on Benedict and Thoren. “They’re serving as ushers.”

Not entirely a lie. They were helping guests to their seats, but having them stationed toward the back for the ceremony seemed a smart decision. I’d managed to convince my mother to keep the guest list slightly more intimate than she would have liked, but we weren’t taking any chances. With Willem and Selah gone, an attack seemed unlikely. But one of the Queens was out of commission, which left the court vulnerable.

He moved to stand behind us as the string quartet began to play. Guests looked at each other with slight confusion as the melody became apparent.

“Interesting choice,” Lysander muttered.

But I smiled, knowing instantly that Thea had chosen the piece. She’d been playing it the first time we saw each other, but even then Death and the Maiden fit. When my parents appeared at the end of the aisle the music shifted to a more traditional choice. The crowd murmured as they made their way to their seats. They always had that effect on people. My father in his tuxedo with his classic Roman looks, my mother as beautiful as the young priestess she’d been thousands of years ago. She wore black, which I tried not to take as a statement on her feelings regarding my marriage. But her gown wasn’t cut to intimidate. Instead, its elegantly draped silhouette was understated.

They smiled me as they took their seats on my side of the aisle, Dad winking at me.

Camila followed, smirking at me. Thea requesting her as a bridesmaid was a surprise, but I was pleased. She carried a bouquet of white peonies, her blush-colored gown accentuating the contrast of her dark hair and pale skin. Guests gasped as she passed, the glow she wore unmistakable.

Her mate beamed as she came down the aisle, looking utterly smug. Whether because she was basking in her new mating bond or finally marrying me off, I didn’t know. But her smile when she reached me held the answer.

“About damn time,” she muttered as she moved to her place as Thea’s maid of honor.

“I could say the same,” I shot back under my breath.

The processional music faded into the bridal march and the guests stood. I stopped breathing at the first glimpse of her.

Thea stepped to the end of the aisle, a simple spray of lily of the valleys clasped in her bare hands, her mother at her side. A hush fell over the crowd. Gold combs held her hair behind her ears, and it curled down her back in a sheet of fire. She wore no veil, but a delicate gold crown rose into a crescent moon dotted with moonstone. Her gown curved over the swell of her breasts and swept off her shoulders into airy chiffon that wafted over her slender arms to the elbow where it draped into lacy bell sleeves. The bodice nipped her waist, embroidered with shimmering silver thread.

She existed outside of time, each step a passing century, as she made her way through my lifetimes toward our shared eternity.

I only tore my eyes from her to look at her mother. Kelly stared for a moment, a million demands in her green eyes, and I nodded a silent vow to meet them all—to love her daughter, cherish her, place her above myself. Not a duty, but an honor. She returned the gesture and turned to kiss Thea’s cheek.

And then my mate was by my side. The priest spoke and we turned automatically to face each other as the ceremony began. I was only dimly aware of what was being said, too absorbed in her.

You are so beautiful.

She flushed, the color creeping down her neck, her décolletage, and drawing attention to the pearly scars that marred her skin.

I swallowed, the sight of my marks on her nearly my undoing. You didn’t cover your scars.

Your mother suggested we glamour them, and I suggested she fuck off. She lifted one brow, her eyes glittering.

I bit back a smile.

What about our other scandal? Did you tell the priest?

I nodded once.

Our vows were simple. We’d opted for the traditional ones, leaving out the ‘to obey’ bit per both our preferences. And when she slid the ring on my finger and mine on hers, I realized I’d been wrong. The wedding hadn’t been about showing her off. It had been about that one simple act, the promise of our love given shape. I was never taking mine off.

Ready? Her lips twitched as the priest began his final proclamation.

You’re such a rebel.

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