Page 142 of The Endless Want

“If it goes sideways,” she replies dryly, “I’ll simply shoot whoever tries it.”

I laugh, but I understand the truth under her words. Danger isn’t gone. The Vore didn’t disappear just because we survived their last strike. They’ve been quieter recently, which is somehow worse. Quiet enemies think.

Still, today is ours. Declan insisted.

We could have done something small, hidden, private. But after everything—the lies, the distance, the blood, the fear—we wanted this to be louder than all of it. A statement. To ourselves, and to whatever enemies might be listening.

When Mackenzie finishes fussing with my veil, she steps back, eyes warm. “Cian’s already charming everyone out there. Nadia is threatening to adopt him. Again.”

That draws a soft laugh from me as I take one more look in the mirror. My son. My wild little miracle with Declan’s eyes and my hair and a stubborn will that’s pure Irish. He’s in a tiny dress shirt and suspenders, looking painfully proud to be the ring bearer—even if Liam assigned three armed guards to hover around him and someone to carry him down the aisle.

My heart aches with how lucky I am to love the people in that courtyard. How lucky I am to be loved by them.

The music drifts in through the open window, and the last breath of my old life leaves my lungs.

“It’s time,” Mackenzie says, and I nod.

The crowd rises when I step out into the sunlight. The aisle feels impossibly long and impossibly short at the same time. Faces blur together—Ronan and Nadia, Finn and Gianna, Conor wiping something suspiciously emotional from his eyes. Liam stands beside his brother, quietly proud, wearing the expression of a man giving away someone he considers his own.

And then there’s Declan.

He’s already crying. Not much—just a tightness around the eyes, a tension in the jaw—but I know him. I can read him like a second language now. It’s the expression he wears when he’s overwhelmed, afraid to touch something beautiful because he knows he’ll break if it shatters.

My steps slow as I reach him, and his hand closes around mine like it’s instinct. A tether. A promise. A plea not to disappear.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, voice cracking.

“So are you,” I murmur back.

The ceremony itself happens in a haze of warmth and trembling vows. Declan’s voice nearly fails on the line about choosing me in this life and the next. I barely get through promising to fight beside him—not behind him, not in his shadow, but beside him where I’ve earned my place.

When Liam hands him the ring, there’s a moment between them. A silent one. Forgiveness threaded through brotherhood, grief, and understanding that took years and war to reach. And when Declan slides the ring onto my finger, the weight of it feels like a new spine.

We kiss. The world erupts into cheers. Cian squeals with laughter from Mackenzie’s lap. I swear the lake glitters brighter.

We made it. Against every possible ruin—we made it.

The reception blurs into dancing and toasts and too much champagne. Every time I look up, Declan is somewhere close, watching me like he still can’t believe I’m real. Mackenzie keeps Cian close, rocking him against her shoulder when he gets tired. Liam circles the perimeter like he expects a sniper to appear at any moment, but the tension never becomes action.

For one night, the world behaves.

Later, when the guests finally leave and the moon rises, Declan takes my hand and leads me to the private suite upstairs. He barely closes the door before his fingers are in my hair, his mouth against mine, his voice rough with everything he can’t articulate.

Apparently, we can’t even wait for the official honeymoon.

In the quiet and sweetness afterward, I know it’s time for some news. When I finally tell him I’m pregnant again, his entire face softens. He holds my cheek in both hands, staring into me like he’s seeing the future take shape.

“You give me reasons to live,” he whispers. “And I intend to make sure you get to watch them all grow up.”

For a man who once thought he’d die young, the words feel like a vow heavier than any ring.

After midnight, we lie tangled on the bed, the window open to the cool breeze from the lake. I trace circles on his chest as he stares at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“The Vore won’t stay quiet forever,” he says eventually.

“I know.”

“Mackenzie may need to be sent away again. Depending on what Liam decides.”