Page 70 of His Angel

Father Tobias nods, a quiet pride in his gaze, and I feel the weight of the moment settle over us like a warm blanket. “A marriage is a covenant that?—”

“Speed it up, Priest.” Isaia shoots him a warning glare, and Father Tobias rolls his eyes.

“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. Isaia, you may kiss your bride.”

“Thank fuck.”

I’m still chuckling when Isaia pulls me into his arms, claiming my lips like it’s the first time and the last. My knees are weak, my insides coiled, and the energy between us is so strong it could fuel a thousand lifetimes

His lips are soft but firm, a vow in every brush, and I taste the salt of my tears mingling with the warmth of him.

The fairy lights seem to glow brighter, the candles flickering like they’re celebrating with us, and I hear the stream nearby, its gentle babble a soft applause.

I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him back with everything I have, my heart so full it feels like it might burst.

His hands slide down to my waist, pulling me closer, and I feel the lace of my dress press against his suit, the slit parting to reveal my leg as I lean into him.

He pulls back, his forehead resting against mine, and we’re both breathing hard, our smiles mirroring each other.

“My wife,” he murmurs, the words a reverent whisper, and I laugh softly, the sound bubbling up from a place of pure joy.

“My husband,” I whisper back, and the reality of it hits me—we’re married, bound in a way that feels eternal, unbreakable. The diamond on my finger glints in the light, a star against my skin, and I feel a warmth spread through me, a certainty that this is where I’m meant to be.

“Priest…Talon.” Isaia’s hands are on my hips. “Unless you want to see us consummate the fuck out of this marriage, I suggest you leave. Now.”

Father Tobias’ lips twitch with the faintest hint of amusement. They both turn and slip into the shadows of the trees, their footsteps fading into the night, leaving us alone in the clearing.

I take his hand, brushing my thumb along his finger. “You don’t have a ring.”

“I’ve got something better.”

Intrigued, I watch as he reaches into his jacket pocket, revealing a silver chain, attached to it a clear glass cylinder pendant, no bigger than my thumbnail, its surface catching the light like a teardrop. “I need you with me always.”

A shiver runs down my spine as he pulls out a small blade, its sharp edge glinting.

My breath catches as he gently takes my hand, palm up.

“You trust me?”

I nod.

“I need your words, Everly.”

“Yes. You know I do.”

With delicate precision, he presses the tip of the blade into the pad of my ring finger, the one now adorned with my wedding band, and I wince at the sharp sting as a few drops of blood well up.

Isaia’s gaze darkens, his breath hitching as he watches the blood bead, and he carefully tilts my finger over the open vial, letting the drops fall inside, each one a tiny piece of me.

He seals the vial with a small cork, the blood swirling within like a dark ruby, and fastens the chain around his neck.

It’s unconventional. It’s dark. But the ownership I feel as I gaze at the pendant resting against his chest, right next to his heart, it fills me with a sense of security and love and something so uniquely us. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, a confirmation that everything about tonight is right. It’s true.

“Now you’ll always be with me, baby girl,” he says, his voice low and raw, filled with so much emotion it makes my heart ache.

I reach out, my fingers brushing the vial, and I feel the weight of his love, the depth of his obsession, binding us in a way that’s as eternal as the vows we just spoke. “Right where I belong.”

With a searing kiss, we seal our promise, our vows, our souls. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love him. Deep in my heart, I know that there won’t ever be a man who fits me so perfectly like Isaia Del Rossa.

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