Page 101 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
Eleni stepped forward, unsteady on his feet but grinning broadly. “Ah, look at these two! Can’t keep their eyes off each other, can you? This is no marriage of convenience—this is love that burns like island fire!” His teasing drew chuckles from the gathered crowd of ruffians.
“Wait a minute, Father.”
O Skia emerged from the shadows, his expression hard as he looked from his son to Bris. The anger from their earlier encounter seemed to crystallize into something sharper, more dangerous. His penetrating gaze seemed to see straight through to her soul—he’d have his revenge now. She was sure of it. He’d stop this marriage as the con he thought it was.
“I will officiate.”
She started in surprise. Achilles let out a sharp intake of breath, his whole body going rigid with suspicion, even Bris was at a loss for words as the old general clasped their hands in his powerful grip. O Skia fixed his son with an intense glare. “Do you love this woman, young wolf?”
Achilles met the challenge in his father’s eyes without flinching. “Yes, and you can’t stop what she means to me. I willdie for her.” The declaration sounded like both promise and threat as father and son exchanged narrowed looks that could start wars… until a broad, pleased grin transformed O Skia’s battle-hardened features.
“That is the only answer I will accept for this to go on.”
Bris felt like slapping them both. “Excuse me? Is this a game to you? Are we doing this or do you plan to tease us all night?”
A smile stole over Peleus’s lips before he could conceal it. “You have your mother’s fire in you.”
She softened immediately, even though she’d tried not to; it felt like a betrayal to give him an inch, and yet… she was in desperate need to hear more about her forgotten mother. Her eyes watered before she could stop it. What was she doing? She wouldn’t cry in front of him—they were his prisoners, and she wasn’t some victim falling for Stockholm syndrome! She held her breath, biting down on her lips before they started trembling or something equally embarrassing. O Skia’s gaze changed on her, almost gentling.
“You have her eyes too…”
She turned quickly away, but she knew it wasn’t fast enough. The tears glistening against her lashes clouded the concerned looks Achilles directed at her. He brought her in closer, shielding her from the crowd with his arms. She buried her head in his chest, feeling his heart hammering against her ears. Why did she feel so weepy the closer she felt to him?
Love had never meant protection before.
“Perhaps that is why this young wolf has turned into such a helpless lamb for such a spitfire,” O Skia said softly.
Laughter from the crowd followed like gentle rain.Thank you?Amazingly, she found herself chuckling with the dangerous guerrillas. Island humor was contagious. Achilles’s fingers pressed hers, and she turned to him, noticing how the moonlight played with his tender expression. How many centuries of loveand loss had these ancient olive trees witnessed? And what would her love story with Achilles bring?
“My young son; my young daughter to be,” O Skia said. There was sudden reverence behind those words that she’d never heard from her own father. “Marriage is not a treaty between kingdoms or a merging of bloodlines. It is the commitment between two devoted souls who promise that no matter the storm, they will weather it together.”
He was making this very personal, wasn’t he? No wonder O Skia had won his people’s devotion. He was tearing open her heart and showing it to these people, and somehow, she was okay with it…. No, blissfully happy! Achilles’s fingers trailed to her face, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. His sparkled with bare emotion.
Thank you, drunken giant! Thiswasa very good idea.The bear was downing another amphora to the side, his bruised jaw resting on his fist as he watched on with a surprisingly sentimental look.
“You have both known the weight of crowns, the weight of despair and hardship. But the love you possess is the only thing no tyrant can command, no oligarch can buy, no enemy can destroy. It must be freely given, fiercely protected, and daily chosen.”
Was that what this was? Bris had never known a love like this, and somehow, she’d recognized it when it came for her. The strange thing was that she could never have accepted it from anyone, but this man who was now her husband.
“Achilles, my son, you are no longer the lost child I could not protect. You are the man that I’d hoped you’d become.” She felt his fingers tighten over hers. Achilles’s seemed to almost stop breathing as the validation that he’d craved for his entire lifetime poured over him. The moment felt almost surreal. Howmust it be to hear such pride in his father’s voice, from a man he’d thought was dead?
“Guard her heart as you would guard your own life.”
Achilles pulled her in closer at the charge. He didn’t need this speech from his father, judging by how he held her like she was more precious than life, the way he always did! His gaze strayed to her lips.
Yes, she was looking forward to that part too—the official seal of their love.
“Briseis Mnon Tyndarian,” O Skia continued, “you are no pawn, no political prize, no consolation. You have in you the heart of a queen. Trust this man with your dreams, your fears, and your heart—he has proven himself worthy.”
Man! These tears just weren’t going to stop, were they? She let out a breath of pure joy.
“Together, you will be stronger than any force that stands against you. Your love will be the foundation upon which you rebuild not just your own lives, but the lives of all who depend on you. Now speak your vows, not as strangers forced to align, but as partners choosing each other with open eyes and full hearts.”
Their vows? Bris hadn’t expected this part. Achilles touched the flowers woven into her hair. “Bris…” His voice caressed her name like a prayer, and then he just stared at her. Would he end his speech there? He didn’t have to say more, his eyes said it all.
His father nudged him, almost playfully.
Achilles seemed to shake himself from his trance. “You’re a fire—my soul’s fire. The spark that lights up the room. I don’t know why I ever fought how I felt about you, but I lost… and I won, and I’m done fighting… unless it is to fight for you. I adore you—our tickle fights, the softness of your lips, the fire that comes from those lips.” She felt herself flushing to the roots of her hair. “I like the way you stomp your foot when I step out of line… you’re my Prissy, and I’ll always be your Killiefish.”
