Page 140 of Inked Athena

My own vows catch in my throat, but Samuil’s grip anchors me. Steadies me. Just like always.

“I vow to be your shelter in the storm,” I whisper when it’s my turn. “To love your darkness as much as your light. To build a family where trust isn’t weakness and love isn’t a liability.”

A single tear escapes down his cheek. I reach up and brush it away, feeling like my heart might burst from all this joy.

My hands still shake as Samuil slides the ring onto my finger. The platinum band nestles against my engagement ring, catching the golden Scottish sunlight. Two circles of forever.

“By the power vested in me…” the priest continues, but I’m once again lost in the beautiful turbulence of Samuil’s eyes. In them, I see our future stretching out before us—more babies, more adventures, more battles fought side by side.

A commotion erupts from the goat pen. The kids have escaped and are making a break for the flower arrangements. Hope’s eyes go wide with panic, but before she can move, Rufus and Ruby spring into action. They herd the wayward babies back to their mama with practiced efficiency, tails wagging proudly at a job well done.

Samuil’s lips twitch. “Even our dogs know how to protect what matters.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest declares once the mayhem has been contained. “You may kiss your bride.”

My new husband—husband—cups my face in his calloused hands. His touch is reverent, like I’m something precious. Something holy.

“Moya zhena,” he breathes against my lips.My wife.

Then he kisses me, and the world falls away. No more mob wars or family betrayals. No more running or hiding or doubting ourselves.

Just this moment, this man, and this love we’ve fought so hard to keep.

When we break apart, Louisa squeals from Grams’s arms, reaching for us with grabby hands. Samuil scoops her up, and suddenly, we’re a tangle of limbs and laughter and happy tears.

The crowd erupts in cheers, but I barely notice. I’m too busy memorizing how it feels to finally,finallybe whole.

The string lights shimmer like fallen stars, casting everyone in a dreamy glow. Even the hardened Bratva soldiers look softer somehow, their sharp edges blurred by candlelight and copious consumption of Scottish whisky.

Samuil’s hand finds the small of my back, his touch electric even through layers of silk and lace. “Dance with me, Mrs. Litvinov?”

The way he purrs my new name sends shivers down my spine. I let him guide me onto the dance floor laid out in the castle courtyard. Myles and Hope have beat us out there, but they’re too busy exploring each other’s tonsils to notice us.

“They’ll be next,” I murmur, nodding at our best friends.

Sam’s chest bobs with quiet laughter. “Myles better not fuck it up. I need Hope around to keep you out of trouble.”

“Me? Trouble?” I bat my eyes innocently. “Never.”

His grip tightens possessively. “You’re nothingbuttrouble,krasavitsa. And now, you’re my trouble forever.”

I melt against him, breathing in his familiar scent of spice and leather. Across the courtyard, Grams rocks a sleeping Louisa, her weathered face peaceful in the golden light. Our daughter’s curls spill over Grams’s shoulder like ink, her tiny fist clutching the pearl necklace Sam gave her this morning.

The sight of my daughter sleeping in my grandmother’s arms makes my throat tight. All those months ago, when I first discovered I was pregnant on that yacht, I never imagined we’d end up here—surrounded by love and laughter instead of violence and fear.

“You’re thinking too hard yet again.” Sam’s lips brush my temple as we sway to the music. “I can practically hear the gears turning.”

“Just grateful.” I trace the scar on his collarbone through his shirt. “For everything that brought us here. Even the bad stuff.”

His hand slides lower on my back, possessive and heated. “The bad stuff made the good stuff sweeter.”

I shiver. Even after everything we’ve been through—the betrayals, the battles, the blood—he can reduce me to putty with just his voice.

“Speaking of good stuff…” His fingers thread through my hair, carefully avoiding the crystal pins Hope spent an hourarranging. “Are you ready to escape? I have plans for you that aren’t suitable for public consumption.”

Heat pools low in my belly. “What about our guests?”

“Let them drink and dance.” His lips graze my forehead. “I need my wife alone.”

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