Chapter 37

T he gown had stolen her breath and her heart from the minute she had opened the box. It had soft bell sleeves and the structured bodice was covered in embroidery of tiny star-beaded crystals. Coming down from the corset, the sparkling gold embroidery flowed into a full skirt with a beautiful blush underskirt. She was honoured that King Oberon had allowed her to have this. It was already gorgeous in the dull light; she couldn't wait to see it in the glow of the setting sun. It was the most beautiful gown she had ever laid eyes on, and she wondered for a moment if the Queen of the Fae had worn such a grand gown. She felt like a queen—an empress. Pulling up her hand, the black diamond in her ring twinkled at her like it was supposed to be with her at this moment.

It felt so right.

Breighly Baxgroll's blonde head popped back into the tent. Kaydence and Lorta had entered moments ago to make sure every detail was attended to. Her beautiful brown eyes flickered with emotion. "Everyone is gathered by the lake. They are ready to begin when you are." She smiled gently, and it was very unlike her.

Emara's heart stammered in her chest, causing both heat and coolness to travel along her skin. She was woozy like she had had a glass of wine.

She wished she had.

She nodded at the wolf, who smiled and said, "What a vision you are, Emara. Torin is going to die—but in the best way, of course."

Kaydence let out a small giggle and Lorta snorted. "I do say, Kaydence, we make a good team. The empress looks utterly beautiful."

"It isn't hard with a face like hers and a heart that shines through for everyone to see. We are so honoured to have this moment with you."

Emara took a breath and smiled back at the girls who had made her more comfortable in the world of magic than she could ever say. "Can I have one moment to myself, please?" They nodded, understanding her requirement to take a few beats to herself.

She presumed the women had moved to the ceremonial space without her because she heard no chatter from outside the tent as she stood taking a few deep breaths.

In the silence of her tent, with her heart fluttering, she knew one thing was missing. She reached for her satchel and dug around until her hand hit something velvet. She pulled out an emerald pouch, and her heart sank. Pulling its drawstrings, she slid out the weighty crescent moon. The different diamonds and stones in it dazzled as she slid it into her braid.

Her own moonlight.

It had been Cally's last gift to her.

When she'd given it to her, Emara had sworn to never forget the look in her eyes. Emara's eyes fluttered shut, and she heard Callyn's voice drift through the tent.

If there is anything in the world that represents who you are, it's the moon. She shines in times of darkness, and everyone looks at her to lead us into a better day.

With her pin in her hair, she was ready to walk to where Torin stood waiting for her. She hadn't had time to study how the ceremony would work, but he would guide her through it. She trusted him to see her right. She could depend on him to always have her back.

Her stomach flipped as she slipped outside. She closed her eyes again as the warm summer breeze tickled her skin, and she wished Cally was here to walk with her down the aisle.

A trail of colourful petals wove a path to the top of the altar. The flames burned brighter as she approached, acknowledging her presence. Budding flowers bloomed as she passed them, spilling out colours of powder blue, rose, buttery yellow, and bright orange. She could feel her element building at her back with each step she took. She barely took in the smiles of the clan gathered around as she moved through the grass. Her train gushed out behind her, gathering all sorts of pine needles, petals, and grass. Her bare feet left footprints in the grass as its soft blades caressed her skin.

When she finally glanced up to the cusp of the waters, she saw him.

He was wearing a tight black tunic tucked into his leathers. Atop his muscular shoulders sat silver armour, what he wore for fighting on special occasions. The emblem of her coven now sat in unison with his Commander's crest on his armour, a bigger version of the one he had worn previously.

The lowering sun crowned him with a glow of fire. His sinful, wonderful eyes were on her, and his full lips were parted in a grin that took the air from her lungs. One dimple was on show, decorating his left cheek. His confidence was astounding as he stood at the top of the aisle, and Emara wondered if she was even putting one foot in front of the other because she didn't seem to be getting any nearer to him. It was like there was no one else around them, not even the gentle breeze or the birds in the sky.

Just them.

And as they locked eyes, something in her heart locked too. Something overwhelming. Something remarkable. Something stormy and powerful yet calming and right.

It was him.

He was the one who made her blood boil with his cockiness, yet he could calm her fire down within seconds. He shared her bed and her secrets. He was the one who guarded her life and saw it as something more valuable than his own.

He was her soulmate.

Their collision was written in the stars.

A single tear fell from her eye as she reached where he stood, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions that hit her heart. Torin swallowed a lump in his throat as his gaze shifted from her face to the mossy grass below her feet. His beautiful skin was glowing, and the striking angles of his face had softened into something so staggeringly handsome she couldn't breathe.

"You look," he whispered, "spellbinding."

"So handsome, Commander," she whispered back, and he gave her a devious wink.

He looked dangerously attractive in full battle regalia, and she was thankful that one of the earth witches had taken a short time to heal some of the wounds on his face. They were now subtle bruises and cuts, but still there as a reminder of what he had earned in the duel. But her favourite scar was still there between his brows, and she had an urge to reach up and touch it.

"Today marks a new beginning for you both." A familiar voice sent a shock wave through her, and she turned her head to see Artem Stryker standing before them also in a black tunic. He sent her a boyish grin, and she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

By the Gods above, how had she not spied him at all?

She turned to face Torin again.

Artem Stryker, really?

Her thoughts must have somehow travelled into Torin's mind as he raised his eyebrows, his hands clasping in front of him innocently. Let him have this moment, angel.

She rolled her eyes a little, and as Torin fought a smile, his right dimple finally appeared in his cheek.

"Surprised to see me?" Artem whispered to her, and she wanted to send a spout of fire up to burn off his eyelashes. But she didn't, she just flashed him a smile bigger than usual, telling him that she would get him back later. "The Warriors of Thorin, Covens of Rhiannon, and everyone from factions in between are gathered here to witness a treaty of marriage between Torin Blacksteel, first of his name, Commander of Clan Blacksteel, and Emara Clearwater, Empress of House Air, heir to the elemental crown. They will join together in matrimony under the Gods of Light and bind themselves as one today."

Emara glanced at Gideon as he moved from behind Torin and handed him a small dagger. Emara's heart quickened again.

"Repeat after me," Artem said. "With this weapon that Thorin granted us, I will bleed."

"With this weapon that Thorin granted us, I will bleed," Torin repeated as he carved a small cut into his palm. He didn't even wince.

Emara's heart skipped a beat as his bleeding hand reached out for hers. She carefully placed her hand in his. Torin looked at her in a way that promised he would try not to hurt her. He nodded for her to recite the vow.

"With this weapon that Thorin granted us, I will bleed," she whispered. She gasped as Torin quickly sliced her palm. It was strange to see another wound where her ascension scar was so slightly faded.

Artem raised his chin. "With this blood, I give to you my life and mix your soul with mine."

Torin repeated his brother's words and clasped his hand over Emara's, his piercing eyes on her face. He nodded to let her know that it was her turn, but as she said the words, she got lost in his stare.

Kellen moved from Torin's side and handed Artem a strip of cloth and then Lorta did the same. Artem placed the fabrics over their connected hands and wrapped their grip like a parcel, binding their hands together.

"With this Blacksteel cloth, your hands are now bound together. With the cloth from House Air, your lives are now joined and your knot of marriage is now infinite."

Emara took a breath, and something low in her stomach shifted as she watched Torin. He tightened his grip on her hand, and the little slash in her skin stung as his blood mixed with hers.

Artem's deep, velvet voice broke through the silence once more. "Like the stars, your love is eternal, and like the earth, your bond is the foundation for your union to grow. May your union be as strong as the mountains of the north. And may the ancestors that went before us bless this marriage in the Light Gods' names. May this knot hold tightly through the storms of life, and may the hands that hold each other now be blessed by the Mother God."

"Blessed be," the crowd around her vowed, including Torin. And he gave her a gentle nod.

"Blessed be," she repeated.

Gideon stepped forward with a quaich engraved with the clan's ancient crest. He poured an auburn liquid into the quaich from a flask, and Emara knew straight away from the scent that it was whiskey. Gideon passed the quaich to Artem and he said, "From this drinking vessel, you will both share your first toast as husband and wife and seal the bond between your two factions."

Emara watched Torin as he unbound the cloth from their hands, and a cool breeze swept in around her wrists, kissing her cut palm. Torin reached up and took the quaich from his brother. Turning to look at Emara, he said, "To Emara Blacksteel, Commanding Wife of the Blacksteel Clan and Empress of House Air." He drank from the quaich, and the clan roared around them.

Emara Blacksteel.

Her heart almost burst at the sound of her new name on his lips. She took the quaich in two shaky hands as Artem said, "As you pass this drinking vessel with both hands, each of you know that trust is present in the marriage as neither of you can reach for your weapon."

That earned a laugh from the clan and even a smirk from Emara.

Torin raised an eyebrow. "Is your spear strapped around your beautiful thigh?"

She didn't answer him, not in front of so many people. He was disturbed and overly confident, but so very utterly handsome.

He gave a snippet of a laugh. "Are you just going to stare at me, or are you going to sip the whiskey, angel?" Torin's brows danced in amusement as his sharp features pulled into an exceptional smile.

She tipped the quaich to her lips with both hands as she heard Artem say, "Careful, Empress, it's strong."

That spurred her on to drink the full vessel dry. Another cheer erupted from the clan. She handed the vessel back to Artem with a cocky smile. "I know what it is. But I am a Blacksteel now."

A flare of pride flashed in Torin's eyes, and he took a step closer to her. "In this body, I will die, but what my heart feels for you will be eternal, Emara. Even when my bones are dust and my soul twinkles amongst the stars, what I feel for you will not change." His fingers coasted down her arm and he took her hands in his. "I am forever yours. And you are forever mine."

Emara's breath caught in her chest, and before she could say anything back to him, his mouth was on hers. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her into him, and she melted into the kiss, falling against his chest. The cheering of the crowd faded and it was just the two of them in the universe. Just Torin Blacksteel kissing her, floating between the pink and golden clouds. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave in to his demanding mouth as it sent flames down her spine. He pushed a large hand into her hair, and tingles spread all over her body. Her spine curved so that her body arched into him, and he greedily took everything he could get from her.

A cough came from their officiant. "That's enough, you two."

"It's never enough," Torin whispered, only to her, not breaking away from their kiss entirely.

A little bashful, she pulled back to see Artem Stryker grinning from ear to ear.

"It is my utter pleasure to say that I now pronounce you husband and wife," he announced.

Her lashes fluttered shut as white rose petals rained down on them. She turned to face the crowd and saw Sybil's hands in the air, controlling the flow of petals that fell from above them. Her eyes were brilliant with delight, and a giant smile breached her lips. Emara mouthed, "Thank you," and the Empress of Earth grinned wider, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Artem leaned in again, catching her attention. "I would say it's time to kiss your bride, but you took that liberty yourself, Tori-boy."

"I couldn't wait a moment longer." Torin's gaze didn't leave Emara's face.

"Well, on that note, let's get pissed." Artem called out, and laughter bellowed all around them. "I am starving, though. Let's eat first, shall we?"

Emara let out a choked laugh, relief spilling from her heart. "Yes, let's."

As Emara walked through the congratulating crowd, holding her husband's hand, she wondered how she could make this happiness last forever.