Page 92 of Lords of Ruin: Cherished

“What is all this?” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I take it all in, unable to move.

Vincent places a gentle hand at the small of my back, guiding me forward. “Take a seat,” he says softly, his voice rich with affection.

I do as he says, sinking into the chair. The coolness of the fine wood against my legs contrasts with the warmth of the room. But it doesn’t feel like I’m just sitting at a table—it feels like I’m stepping into something monumental, something new.And yet, it feels like I’ve been here all along, destined for this moment.

On my plate sits a leather portfolio, bound in deep burgundy with gold embossing that catches the candlelight, catching my attention like a beacon.

“Open it,” Vincent says.

With trembling fingers, I flip it open, and what I find inside takes my breath away. The parchment is thick and elegant, the calligraphy at the top unmistakable in its beauty:Declaration of Eternal Union.

My gaze skims down, the words like a dream unfurling in front of me:

"We, the undersigned, do hereby declare our intention to unite in a bond of marriage and devotion that transcends traditional boundaries. We pledge ourselves to one another—four souls becoming one family—until death parts us."

I look up, my heart hammering against my ribs, the world spinning as I try to process the weight of what I’ve just read. “What is this?” My voice cracks, and I wish for a moment that I could blink away the tears that have started to form.

“Keep reading,” Cast says, his voice gentle, but with an intensity I can’t ignore.

My hands are shaking as I move down the page, reading each clause. Protection, devotion, responsibilities. Each section outlines our relationship—our bond—and how it’s grown over the years. How I am cherished, cared for, respected, and loved.

The final paragraph is the one that takes my breath away:“This contract represents not a limitation of freedom, but thewilling surrender to a bond more profound than any one of us could create alone. In signing this document, we four become inseparable—in body, heart, and soul—from this day forward.”

Below, three signature lines are already filled with their distinctive handwriting. The fourth one is empty.

I look up, my heart pounding, to find all three of them watching me, their eyes locked on me with the kind of intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

“There’s more,” Vincent says softly, his voice just above a whisper.

Cast reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. When he opens it, my breath catches in my throat.

Inside is a ring unlike anything I’ve ever seen before—three bands, intertwined in a perfect, harmonious weave. One band of yellow gold, one of white gold, and one of rose gold. The yellow band holds sapphires that match Vincent’s eyes. The white band features black diamonds that radiate Damien’s energy. The rose gold band is studded with emeralds, just the same shade as Cass’s gaze when he’s lost in thought. Where the bands meet, they form a perfect setting for a single, breathtaking diamond that shines with an inner fire.

The three of them rise, moving with the grace and fluidity of a single unit, and they kneel before me, forming a triangle with me at its center.

“Willow,” Vincent begins, his voice reverberating in the quiet space. “You came into our lives like a fucking storm.”

“You became our comfort when we didn’t know we were looking for it,” Damien adds, his voice low, like a secret shared only between us.

“And now, we can’t imagine a future without you at its center,” Cast says, his voice thick, as though every word is a prayer.

Together, they ask in perfect unison: “Will you be our Queen and marry us? All of us?”

Tears blur my vision, my heart swelling with a kind of joy I never thought possible. These three men—each so different, yet so completely aligned in their love for me—kneel before me, offering not just their hearts, but a future. A family. A home.

I press my hands to my mouth, and through the haze of tears, I whisper, “Yes.”

And then louder, “Yes!”

The ring slides onto my finger, fitting perfectly, as though it had always been meant to be there.

“Sign it,” Vincent murmurs, pressing a pen into my hand, his eyes filled with so much hope, so much love, that it aches in my chest.

I take the pen, my heart pounding, and lower it to the empty line. My new ring catches the light as I sign my name—the final piece that completes us all.

POST EPILOGUE

WILLOW

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