27. Dark Delight （Talia）

27

DARK DELIGHT (TALIA)

Months Later

A winter wedding.

It's everything I never knew I wanted, and everything I've always dreamed of.

I don't even feel the cold as I stare at my reflection in the mirror in the small boathouse on Still Lake's shore.

It's been converted into a makeshift dressing room for tonight. It's so busy, and I'm surrounded by people.

Janelle Bowden, adjusting her lavender off-the-shoulder matron of honor dress. Delilah Graves and Ophelia Faircross, both fussing with the sash of my dress. I've only known them for a few months but they've treated me like a bestie from day one.

I almost don't even know what to do with this crowd.

I've never had actual friends.

Not counting Grandpa, of course.

He's easily been my best friend my whole life.

But the last few weeks, getting my wedding together after Micah told me the guys at Redhaven PD would be his groomsmen…

I never expected their wives to step up and throw themselves into being my bridesmaids.

And I wasn't expecting how much fun I'd have with Delilah, Ophelia, and Janelle, even if Janelle's been a little subdued. Who can blame her?

The poor woman still looks at me like she wants to apologize. The best way I could tell her that I don't blame her for what her husband did was to invite her to stand in for my deceased mother in my wedding.

I can tell she's felt alive again, and it makes me crazy happy that I could do something to help ease her pain and the nagging mystery of what happened to Chief Bowden.

I know all too well how being part of something can take the edge off old wounds.

And it feels like I'm catching up on a lifetime of being the weird, unpopular kid in just a span of a couple months as the four of us gossiped over fabrics, flowers, and the ceremony.

Micah has been pretty hands off the entire time, claiming he didn't know the first thing about weddings and he'd just screw it up. Though he gave me a look when I told him what I had planned—and what the girls were wholeheartedly on board with.

Micah indulgently accepted it, but I could tell what he was thinking.

You're the only reason I'll ever embarrass myself like this .

I mean, if your man doesn't love you enough to wear breeches and riding boots to your wedding, is it really love?

Besides, even if I've let go of my girlish fantasies about vampires, loving my soon-to-be husband for who he really is, I do have strong opinions.

Like the fact that every girl should get to live out her fairy tale just once.

And I feel like a fairy-tale princess now as I take a final spin in the mirror.

My dress looks like it was spun from pure silk, all gorgeous gossamer layers with a high empress waist and a trailing skirt. The small puffed-up sleeves leave my arms bare, save for the spirals of white gossamer wrapped around them, streaming from my wrists to the floor.

My hair is piled up in ringlets and dotted with white flowers. The same flowers circle my wrists and throat in a fragile collar and delicately woven bracelets.

For my makeup, I went with a subtle and dewy look.

I feel like I'm just waiting for my prince to sweep me away into the meadows.

The subtle shimmer of silver and white dusted against my skin fits the winter wedding theme. A snow bride, surrounded by sparkling frost on the shores of this frozen lake.

How fitting.

It's like everything started here, camping that night.

So I guess it's the place where our lives should turn over a new chapter, too.

A fresh beginning as husband and wife.

Breathlessly, I try to smile at my nervous reflection.

"Don't look so scared," Delilah teases. "He's not going to run away, girl. And if he does, we'll send the whole Redhaven crew after him."

She clasps my arms, looking at me over my shoulder in the mirror with a warm smile. Her dark hair tumbles down over us both, her lilac bridesmaid dress swirling gently against her.

"He might eat her," Ophelia teases from my other side. "The big bad wolf coming for Little Red."

I blush wildly, and I can't help looking at my throat in my reflection.

My pale, smooth throat, completely unblemished today.

Yeah, he's been forbidden from biting me for weeks now—anywhere that might show in my wedding dress, at least.

He grumped. He growled. He sulked a lot.

But he listened.

Even if he's been busy marking up my inner thigh.

They throb with a hot twinge, a deliciously dark memory of everything he's done to me.

Big bad wolf, indeed.

"He's not going to eat me," I say, my voice shaky. "And I know he won't run. He's way too proud for that."

Janelle looks up from fussing with her hair and her flowers and steps closer to clasp my hand warmly.

"Then what are you so worried about, dear? You're practically shaking."

"I just…" I swallow. "I don't want him to go through with this and regret anything."

Janelle smiles reassuringly.

"Oh, I had a peek a few minutes ago," she says with a smile. "He looks elated. I've never seen that boy so fired up since he came to Redhaven. Before you, his smiles were always missing a little something. I know what it is now." Her thumb strokes my knuckles. "Talia, he was missing you. You've brought him back to life. I can't see how he could ever regret that."

Laughing, warmth spreads through my chest.

"God, I hope you're right."

"She is!" Delilah nudges me gently. " You aren't the one getting cold feet, are you?"

"No way!" I promise. "I really want this. I'm just worried I'm going to trip or have an asthma attack. You all worked so hard, and I'm going to ruin the whole thing."

"You are not." Ophelia drapes her arms around my neck from behind, leaning into me, grinning at our reflections. That's another thing I'm getting used to—having girlfriends who just want to hug and be close . It's nice. "If you start losing your breath, I've got your inhaler on me."

I stare at her reflection.

"Where? Your dress doesn't have pockets."

"No, but I've got plenty of cleavage." She grins wickedly. "So don't make me go fishing down my bra in front of the whole wedding party."

I blink and then laugh, releasing the tension that's been building up in one big rush of giggles. Janelle, Ophelia, and Delilah laugh too, until we're just a mess and I'm in danger of ruining my makeup with the tears of laughter building up on my lashes.

But I needed that.

I needed this.

I needed them , these newfound friends who already mean so much.

Delilah playfully pinches my cheek.

"There we go," she says. "You good now?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." I grin.

Just then, there's a polite knock at the door.

"Everyone decent in there?" Grandpa calls through.

Ophelia leans away.

"All good, Mr. Grey," she calls back.

To my surprise, Janelle turns flustered, letting go of my hand to pat at her hair and dress with a soft sound. Her cheeks are pink.

They turn even pinker as my grandfather pushes the boathouse door open, peeking in with a proud smile.

He's the sterling image of dapper in his tailored steel-grey suit.

"We're ready when you are," he says.

Delilah snaps her fingers. "That's our cue! Let's get out there and pave the way for the blushing bride."

Suddenly, I'm buried in hugs. More affection than I know what to do with before the girls file out while Grandpa steps inside the cluttered room.

As he and Janelle pass by, there's a lingering glance, an almost secret smile between them.

Did I miss something while I was so wrapped up in wedding planning?

But then it's just me and Grandpa again, while everyone else bustles out to get the whole wedding procession started.

He just stands across the room, watching me.

Then he steps closer, clasping my hands and looking up at me with tears in his eyes and his face shining.

"If your parents could see you now," he murmurs. "They'd be so proud. You've come so far, Tally-girl. You fought your way here."

Oh God, I'm going to start crying.

Delilah will shit a brick after she worked so hard on my makeup.

I sniff, trying to hold it in. "Well, somebody raised me to be as stubborn as a mule."

"Damn right. And I'd do it again. Being headstrong, that's one of your best traits." His eyes twinkle. "You really do get that from me."

I laugh. "At least I didn't get your arrogance."

"It's not arrogance if it's truth, girl." He grins. "Hope that man of yours is ready."

"How'd he look?"

"Like a little boy on Christmas morning," Grandpa reassures me. "You found yourself a good one, my darling. Hope he has the good sense to never let you go."

Me too.

More than anything, I want Micah forever.

But the tenor of the music floating in from outside changes, dashing my thoughts.

It's time.

My heart flips over.

Grandpa offers me his arm with wordless approval.

I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow and pick up my pretty little bouquet of white roses and lilac rosebuds.

Together, we step outside into the glittering evening.

There's snow everywhere.

People bundled up in warm coats over their fine outfits, sitting in the chairs flanking the flower-strewn aisle.

Silver and glitter and pale flowers everywhere.

Still Lake, partly frozen over behind the altar, snow shimmering along the icy sheets. It's a winter wonderland just for me, so I can feel like the delicate winter princess gliding down the aisle.

And waiting for me at the end, my prince.

Micah may have spoiled me with his wedding outfit, but he looks so stunning it was worth it.

Cream-colored breeches hug his narrow hips and muscular thighs. Dashing black thigh-high leather riding boots. A matching cream-colored waistcoat over a billowing, stark white linen shirt, the waistcoat caging the linen against his broad shoulders and trim waist. The only color is the lilac rose corsage pinned to him and the subtle blue tint to his eyes.

Plus, the scarlet joy in his cheeks.

With his white hair slicked back, he looks rakish and unreal, this ice prince who's warmed his heart enough to let me in.

Only, there's nothing icy about the silver-blue eyes that land on me as I step into the moonlight.

There's nothing but warmth as our gazes find each other and never let go.

I'm barely aware of walking down the aisle.

I feel like I'm floating on the love in his eyes, wrapped up in the sudden realization that this is happening .

The man I love waits for me right in front of a patiently smiling priest. In a few more minutes, we'll be hitched.

I want to laugh.

I want to cry.

I'm definitely doing both by the time Grandpa leads me to the altar and kisses my cheek before letting me go.

As he passes by to take up his place with the groomsmen, all of Redhaven PD handsome in their tuxedos, he grabs Micah's hand with an approving squeeze that means so much to me.

There's nothing better than knowing the two most important men in my life respect each other so deeply.

Especially when Micah squeezes his hand back with a smile and a murmur.

"Gerald," he says warmly.

For a second, there's a loud commotion in the trees overhead. A huge flock of crows takes off with deafening caws, launching into the sky like spinning shadows.

Micah stares at them until the noise disappears, and I wonder why there's such a bright starry smile in his eyes.

Then he looks at me again and it's just us, standing across from each other.

I can see his heart pounding in his throat, his pulse wild against pale skin, matching my own. Micah takes a quick breath and lets it out in a laugh.

"Remind me again how you make yourself breathe when you're this excited?"

The last of my jitters melt away.

My smile lights me up from the inside out.

"I count," I whisper. "I count and pace my breathing."

Micah reaches for my free hand, watching me with those luminous eyes that hold me spellbound.

"Maybe we should count backward then," he says. "To the moment when we'll be husband and wife."

"In your head," I tease. "I don't think the priest would like it very much."

Micah's eyes glitter. "I'll count if you will."

"Every second is a second too long," I promise.

"Shall we?" The priest clears his throat.

I nod shyly, and Micah nods more boldly.

In my head, I'm already counting down backward.

With every word from the priest, another second slips by.

Another second closer.

Another instant narrowing the end of my life as Talia Grey, and the beginning of my life as Talia Ainsley.

Another tick closer to eternity with Micah.

The entire time, we never look away from each other.

Micah's lips move silently and I realize he's really doing it—counting backward. I fight the urge to grin with everyone watching, squeezing his fingers playfully and getting a wink in return.

I took a wild guess on how long it would take the priest to recite the wedding vows, and I'm not far off.

I'm down to ten by the time he gets to In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or for worse, 'til death do you part .

Nine.

"Do you, Micah Ainsley, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Eight.

"I do," Micah answers firmly.

Seven.

I'm fizzing to bits, nearly bouncing on my toes.

"And do you, Talia Grey, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Six.

"I do ," I say, more emphatically than I've ever said anything in my life.

Five.

And then Rolf is there, trotting down the aisle, looking very pleased with himself that he's doing his trick right. Micah spent a month teaching him as he jogs up to us with his tags jingling against the ring box hooked to his collar.

Four.

"Good boy." Micah tugs the box free, scratching behind Rolf's ears.

Three.

The box open.

The rings are waiting.

Two.

Sliding onto each other's fingers, cool gold bands that quickly warm with shared love, affection, and trust.

One .

The priest looks into our smiling faces and says the magic words. "Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Zero !

An ending.

A beginning.

A forever.

Our new life starts with Micah sweeping me into his arms with our ring-bound fingers pressed together.

His mouth captures mine, kissing me so deeply, so passionately.

I wonder how I ever thought this man was cold.

He gives me every emotion now with crushing lips and delving tongue, with a possessive hold and a whisper that gives me chills.

" Talia, " he growls against my lips. Like I'm a cherished thing he wants to taste and hold and keep.

And I kiss him back just as deeply, ignoring the people around us breaking into celebratory shouts.

It's so distant when everything I need is right in front of me, here in my arms.

His lips taste like a promise—and a little like the salt of my tears, spilling down my cheeks.

Yeah, I don't care if I ruin my makeup anymore.

I don't care, because this is perfect.

I took a risk.

I jumped.

And I fell headfirst in love.

I am Mrs. Talia Ainsley.

I am cherished.

I am his.

The darkest chase ends, and I'm giddy for the many happy years ahead.

Only the rest of our lives.

Thanks for reading The Darkest Chase! Look for more from Redhaven coming soon.