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Love.
She was his soul, and he had no shame admitting it.
He stepped to her, her graceful fingers lying against his arm as he stared down at her.
His perfect, beautiful fairy.
Amethyst eyes stared up at him, sparkling with tears and with joy behind the antique lace of the veil.
It was her dream wedding. She was his dream bride.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together . . ." The priest's words droned on. The vows were in Nik's soul, tied to hers, wrapping them together with silken, unbreakable bonds.
His bride.
They called him Renegade, but his Mikayla would now call him husband. And to Nik, "husband" was a far better word.
"You may kiss the bride."
His fingers actually shook as he lifted the veil, curved his arm around her, pulled her to him, and in that kiss they sealed the vows they had made a year before. To love forever.
