Chapter Forty-Eight
Sasha
“I’m as big as a frigging house,” Mack whines as she stares at herself in the mirror. “Are you sure you want me to walk with you out there? Nobody will be looking at you when you have me thundering down the aisle beside you.”
I laugh at her, and it turns out to be just what I need at the moment. I’m a nervous wreck.
“Mack, you look beautiful,” I assure her. “And I’ve got nobody else to walk out there with me. I really need you.”
“Oh fine.” She pouts. “You’re gonna play that card, huh?”
“I am.”
She turns to me and starts fussing over my dress. A white floor length, empire waist ensemble with a touch of gold trim. It’s not what I imagined myself getting married in. But when I was looking at dresses, Ronan admitted his favorite color on me was white.
He likes to think of me as pure and good. The light to his darkness. I’m definitely no angel, but he’s not the devil he thinks he is either. So for him, I wear white.
I hadn’t planned on doing anything in the traditional way. I mean, I’m getting married in a strip club. Run by the mafia. There’s pretty much nothing traditional about that. But it turns out, Ronan’s very traditional in some aspects.
He wanted to see me walk down the aisle. He wanted to show the world that I’m his. I couldn’t deny him.
So even though I’m a bit panicky at the prospect of having everyone’s eyes on me, I know it will all go away the moment I see his. Standing there, waiting for me.
The music starts, and I grab Mack’s arms in a vice grip.
“It’s okay, Sash,” she says. “Just breathe.”
I do. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
“There’s nobody out there but Ronan, okay. Just focus on him.”
“Okay.” I nod and she guides me out the door.
I’m shaking like a leaf, and my stomach flips when I see the room full of faces. They are all staring at me.
Mack squeezes my hand in hers and gives me a much needed support.
“Look at Ronan,” she whispers.
I do. I find his eyes at the end of the aisle. Soft and brown and focused only on me. He’s anxious too. Impatient. This was all his idea, but now it’s clear he just wants me there next to him. He doesn’t like to have me out of arm’s reach, especially around this many people. It’s just his way of protecting me.
I steel myself with several more deep breaths and take a step. And then another. And my eyes never leave Ronan’s. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Right now, in his suit, he’s even more so. It’s the same suit he always wears. But today it’s different. Today he looks like my husband.
Mack hands me off to Ronan at the end of the aisle, and he takes my hands in his. Almost immediately, my shaking stops, and everything else falls away. It’s only us now, and the sound of Rory’s voice as he performs the ceremony.
I recite the vows that were crafted for members of the syndicate. They are by no means normal. They speak of family, honor, and blood. Loyalty and protecting one another at all costs.
They couldn’t be more perfect if I’d written them myself.
I will always protect Ronan, just as I know he will always protect me.
When Rory moves onto the blood rite, he hands me the ceremonial blade first. Ronan and I both knew we wouldn’t be able to cut each other, which was tradition, so we opted to do it ourselves. The only other option was having Rory perform the ritual, however I had a feeling Ronan might very well murder him if he cut me.
So with Ronan’s eyes on mine, while Rory recites the words that bind our souls together for eternity, I take the blade to my finger and then hand it off to Ronan. He does the same, and then our hands are bound together with a piece of ribbon.
“My anam cara,” we both repeat together.
They are the same words carved into our wedding rings in Ogham script. The words that mean, quite simply, his soul is mated to mine.
The ritual is more powerful than I expected it to be. Raw energy pulses between us, our souls and our love binding us as one. There are tears in my eyes when we exchange the rings. I’ve never felt more emotional in my life. The love that I have for this man overwhelms me. That love is reflected in Ronan’s eyes.
And finally come the words that seal our fates.
My life, my love, my breath.
May we always have each other, in this life and the next.
Rory hands us a cup which we both drink from, and then he proclaims the words that make it official.
We are now husband and wife.
Ronan kisses me, in front of everyone, and he doesn’t hold back. When he finally pulls away at Rory’s insistence, I’m laughing and a little off kilter.
We both walk to the alter and perform the last and final step of the ceremony. The lighting of the candle.
And then he promptly bundles me up into his arms and carries me to the back office which he insists is custom as well. I’m pretty sure he’s making that part up, but I go with it, because… Ronan.
Always Ronan.