Page 107 of Shattered

Allegra joins us a few minutes later, and everyone stands as she enters. She looks incredible. She’s in a floor-length mermaid dress that shows off her curves, and she sparkles like a gem in the sunlight. Her chocolate brown hair is in an elegant updo, and her makeup is light, emphasizing her gorgeous eyes and pretty pink lips.

I didn’t know how I’d feel watching Ian get married. As much as I’m over him, I wondered if watching him marry another would hurt. But my heart is so full that I can’t feel anything but happiness for them. Allegra and Ian bring out the best in each other.

And with Asher at my side, I’m not lonely anymore.

Trauma can bring people together in incredible ways. I’ve seen that firsthand. I just never thought I’d be in the middle of it. Asher and I went through hell, and we’re still getting through it. He still tears up when Bane is mentioned, and I still can’t wash my damn hair, but we’re getting there together.

It’s our love story. It’s dark and fucked up, but it’s ours.

“Allegra, do you take Ian Miller to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Turner announces.

Allegra smiles into Ian’s eyes, glowing. “I do.”

“And Ian, do you take Allegra Webber to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Ian reaches out to cup her cheek, stroking it in a way that makes her melt. “I do.”

“Then I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

They crash into each other like they’ve been waiting all day, desperate for air, ready for a breath. And when they do, our gathering erupts into cheer. I’ve made it my mission to cheer the loudest, and when I do, they both separate, smiling down at me.

The next day:

Asher wanted to bring me to Turner’s today but wouldn’t tell me why. While I’m confused, I go with the flow, until he punches a code into the door to open it.

“You have a code?”

He flashes a smile at me. “I have more than that.”

We cross the kitchen, and he reaches into his pocket for a key to Koa.

What. The. Fuck?

“I thought you couldn’t do these stairs!” I blurt.

When he opens the door, I see what he wanted to show me. I’m guessing this is what the man in the van was installing that day.

A stair lift.

“Age before beauty,” he says, folding the chair and sitting down. I laugh as he places his cane in his lap and descends, and I follow.

“Turner hooked me up,” he says happily.

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit. That’s Turner for you.”

A room at the end of the hall hasn’t been claimed for a long time, and it’s adorned with Asher’s name.

Asher. My Dom. My love.

“Turner wanted me to show you this yesterday, but it was too busy to sneak down here with everyone in the kitchen.”

The door opens, and the inside comes to life as he forces me inside from behind. A passionate red lights the room. There’s a wooden X frame with cuffs against the wall. Our standard bondage table sits in the center of the room, fitted with chains, at a lower level than the others. A foldable wheelchair is parked near the door.

“I asked him to put some stuff in here for me, but the equipment was his doing. Do I want to know why Turner assumed you like bondage?”

I turn to him, smiling deviously. “Probably not.”

While my heart races, Asher grabs my wrist, and he must feel my throbbing pulse. “You okay?”

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