Ileana

Nico’s reflection appears beside me in the mirror, his fingers fastening Alexandra's necklace around my throat. The diamonds catch the light, scattering tiny rainbows. Monty should be with Wren, somewhere in the house, performing his best man duties.

"If you'd told me five years ago we’d be helping you get ready for your wedding ..." Nico trails off, a smirk playing on his lips. He’s my self-proclaimed man of honor , because I don’t have any female friends who I could have asked to take on the role.

"You'd have what?" I arch an eyebrow at him. "Warned me to run away?"

"Like anyone could outrun Wren when he wants something. He was obsessed from the second you drenched him in orange juice." His expression softens. "Though watching you two fight it only made the inevitable more interesting." His fingers brush my shoulder. "And the bruises he leaves on your skin suggest you have no interest in running."

Heat blooms in my cheeks, but I don't try to hide the marks Wren left on my skin. My dress ensures they're visible—white silk that clings like water before falling in a cascade around my legs. The bodice dips low in front, exposing the constellation of claims he made on my throat, while the back plunges to my waist, showing every mark from his mouth, his teeth, his fingers. Delicate straps drip with black crystals that catch light like tears, while the skirt splits high enough to make James raise an eyebrow when he first saw it. A black silk ribbon wraps my waist, the bow resting just above the curve of my ass—another reminder that this is no innocent bride being given away. I'm a prize, a gift to be unwrapped by one person only.

My mother enters the room, and my heart warms at seeing her. When Charles convinced the FBI to back down five years ago, she and James came back. It wasn't easy at first, but time has a way of healing old wounds when you let it.

"You look stunning." Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, and the smile we share feels like another small victory. After everything we've been through, standing here together means more than words can say.

Spinning, I stare at my reflection. It shows me a woman choosing her chains. Choosing her darkness. Choosing the shadows that have always called to her.

A knock at the door makes us all turn. Charles stands in the doorway, looking more human than I've ever seen him. A rare smile tilts his lips up when he takes in the necklace, the dress, the visible proof of his son's possession. Maybe Wren isn't the only one who learned from Alexandra about seeing beneath surfaces.

"It's time." He moves closer, studying my reflection. "Alexandra would be proud to see her necklace worn again. Especially by someone who loves her wild devil as much as you do."

"Wild devil?" I meet his eyes in the mirror.

"That was her name for Wren." His voice carries the weight of memory. "She always said he burned too bright for this world to contain. Like you." He reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a small, worn envelope. "She wrote this for whoever would eventually wear her necklace. I think she knew, somehow, that you'd be the one."

My hands tremble slightly as I take it, but I don't open it. Not yet. That's for later, when Wren and I are alone.

Nico steps out, his protective presence a reminder of how much has changed. Five years ago, he was just Wren's friend, watching from the sidelines as we circled each other. Now he’s family—the kind that chooses you, that stands beside you when blood ties threaten to strangle.

Music rises up from the ballroom below. Not the traditional wedding march, but something darker, something that speaks to the kind of love that consumes everything in its path.

"Ready?" Charles offers his arm.

My mother smiles, a real smile that reaches her eyes. "I'll see you downstairs," she says, then heads down to take her place.

Victoria, Wren's mother, enters as my mother leaves. Her presence fills the room differently. She’s stronger, more self-assured. She studies me with eyes like her son's.

"Perfect," she says simply, a rare smile softening her features. She straightens one of the crystal-draped straps before stepping back to admire the full effect. "Now then, shall we go make my son speechless?"

I link my arm through Charles's, and we walk slowly out of the room and down the hall to the stairs, where James waits at the bottom. Our relationship has been the hardest to rebuild. Months of therapy, of painful conversations about control and fear and love that becomes poison. He's learning to see me, really see me, instead of the obedient daughter he tried to create. I'm learning to trust that his pride in me now is genuine, not another manipulation.

He looks up as I descend.

"You're magnificent," he says simply, and takes my other arm. Together, they lead me toward the ballroom doors.

Wren turns as I walk between the rows of seats, everything else fading under the intensity of his gaze. The guests, the music, none of it matters except the hunger in his eyes as he watches me approach. Nico moves ahead of me and stands to one side of Wren, while Monty is on the other. The knights they’ve always been in his dark court, wearing matching black suits with black roses in their lapels, a deliberate echo of the darker elements in my dress.

This isn't a traditional ceremony. This isn't about white dresses and innocent promises. This is about choosing the darkness that's always lived inside me. About belonging completely to the one person who saw beneath every lie I was taught to believe.

When I reach him, both our fathers step back. I decided that no one would give me away because I've already given myself to him freely. The officiant speaks, but I barely hear the words. When it’s time for our vows, Wren reaches out, his fingers brushing my jaw. We’ve written our own vows, not the traditional promises of love and honor, but darker truths we've always shared.

"I claimed you the moment you crossed my path." His voice carries through the silent ballroom. "Every photograph. Every dance. Every moment you tried to fade away only made me want you more. I vow to keep you burning bright, to never let you disappear again, to possess every piece of your existence until there's nothing left that isn't mine."

His fingers trace where Alexandra's pendant rests against my throat. "You're the fire that consumes everything in its path. The darkness that calls to my own. The only person who's ever seen beneath my surface and wanted more instead of running. I vow to feed that flame, to nurture that darkness, to own every breath until you forget how to exist without me."

My turn now, and the words come without hesitation. "I spent my life learning to be invisible, but you saw me anyway. Saw past every lie, every facade, every attempt to fade away. I vow to let you see everything. Every shadow, every secret, every piece of myself I tried to hide."

His hand finds my throat, his touch possessive.

"You didn't just find me in the darkness. You showed me how beautiful that darkness could be. I vow to burn with you, to dance in shadows with you, to belong to you so completely that no one will ever doubt who owns every mark on my skin, every breath in my lungs, every beat of my heart."

"Mine." The word carries through the silent ballroom.

"Yours." I meet his gaze. "Always yours. "

His mouth claims mine before the officiant finishes speaking.

Let them watch. Let them see what kind of love this is. Let them understand that some loves are meant to burn.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of activity. The ceremony is followed by a meal, then a reception, where guests pretend not to see how Wren’s hands never leave me.

Later, much later, we stand in the ballroom again. Moonlight spills through windows that have witnessed every step of our journey. Every dance. Every claim. Every moment of surrender.

"Happy?" His voice holds that edge that still makes my stomach flip.

I turn in his arms, arching against him. "You know exactly how happy I am."

"Show me then." His hands move lower. "Show me everything you've become since choosing to burn rather than fade away."

Music fills the room as he claims me again. Let the world wonder what kind of love makes someone choose shadows over safety.

This is who we are. What we've always been. What we'll always be.

In shadows, we dance forever.