Page 141 of Storm of Ink and Blood

“I love you, too,” she replied. “Thank you for coming into my life.”

Then they turned to the cleric, who performed a quick ceremony without any bells or whistles. Maybe this made more sense. Their relationship was already extraordinary enough on its own.

When it was done, they turned to face their friends and family. Yasen and Row gave her extra-long hugs, and she did her best not to sob all over them.

Miraan had snuck in a case of very expensive sparkling wine, which they popped to the sound of cheers and congratulations as they drank straight from the bottles. They all snickered when Yasen dribbled some down his front, but he had the last laugh when he dumped half a bottle on Miraan.

The normally stoic prince burst into raucous laughter before they shared a sticky, wet kiss and the cleric threw them out, grumbling under his breath about finding a mop. Miraan assured him he’d pay for the trouble, but the cleric waved them off.

“Have a lovely life,” he said to Zarya and Rabin, pressing his hands at his heart and dipping his head.

“We plan to,” Zarya answered before grinning at Rabin. He pressed a finger to her jaw, and they kissed one more time before donning their scarves and cloaks and spilling into the streets where the sun had set.

Ishaan was alive with activity as Miraan guided them past bustling taverns and busy cafes and up the sweeping steps of the city’s grandest hotel. Knowing a prince certainly had its advantages because he’d booked them a private room inside its lavish restaurant, where they were served overflowing courses of lamb biryani, dal bukhara, and bursting bites of litti chokha.

They toasted and drank and ate until they were stuffed.

From across the table, Zarya watched Yasen and Miraan talking, their heads bent close. As if sensing her gaze, Yasen looked over and Zarya smiled. He might claim things were casual with the prince, but she was sure there was something more. Yasen winked and held up his glass, and she got misty-eyed thinking about how much she loved him.

Miraan pushed away from the table and announced, “I’ve also secured you a room for the night. You won’t have time for a honeymoon yet, but I hope this helps make up for it.”

He held out a golden key and Zarya reached out to accept it. “Miraan, this is too much.”

He waved her off. “It’s not nearly enough. I’m not sure what the future holds for any of us, but I’d like to know you better if we get that chance.”

“I’d like that too,” she whispered, clutching the key to her chest.

“Now get out of here.” He picked up his wine, clearly feeling a bit looser after downing several glasses. “We might all die tomorrow, so enjoy tonight to the fullest!”

They all cheered to that morbid reminder, but she smiled anyway, feeling like her heart would burst.

It hadn’t been the wedding she’d imagined, but it was actually so much better. It had been intimate and warm and full of the most important people in her life.

Then everyone shooed Zarya and Rabin off before they made their way upstairs to discover that not only had Miraan secured them a room, it was the best one in the entire hotel.

Sprawling over the top floor, it could have fit at least five of Zarya and Yasen’s whole flat. Along the far wall, a set of wide arches opened to the outside, where they could see miles of forest and mountains in the distance. In the center of the room was a massive circular bed covered with gold sheets and pillows, along with ornately carved tables, divans, and the biggest marble bathroom Zarya had ever seen.

Miraan had arranged for more sparkling wine, and they poured two glasses before they stood on the balcony, enjoying the soft evening breeze.

“Thank you for marrying me,” Rabin said before he took her hand and kissed the back of her fingers. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”

“I love you,” she said softly, watching the moonlight reflecting in his eyes and off the arch of his cheekbones.

They kissed slowly and deeply, languishing in the sensation and the tastes and smells of each other. He took the glass out of her hand and placed it on the table before he wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her towards him.

“No more wine?”

“Have as much as you want,” he said with a smirk as his hand slid down and cupped her ass. “But first, I want to spread you out on that bed and make love to my wife.”

She grinned up at him. “Deal.”

FORTY-EIGHT

Rabin scooped Zarya into his arms, loving the way she felt pressed against him. She squealed in delight and looped her arms around his neck. He’d never get enough of that joyous sound. She was the sunshine to his storm. The perfect ray of light piercing through the layers of his darkness. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed her until she’d blown into his life.

The decision to ask for her hand had been on his mind for weeks. Ever since they’d completed the Bandhan. It had brought them together in irrevocable ways, but it still hadn’t felt like enough. It didn’t encompass all the profound feelings he’d developed for this woman. He’d been alive long enough to understand there was nothing ordinary about their connection.

He strode across the room and tossed her on the bed, eliciting another happy scream.