Page 158 of A Courage of the Chosen

He steps aside as Finneus places a hand on top of the knot tethering us together. “It is done. You may now seal your marriage with a kiss.”

I’m on her before Finneus is even finished, soundtracked by the celebrations of the council and small family gathered around us.

Our mouths come together, and I know I’m home.

Elsie is the first to pull away breathless, and her eyes alight with the same wonder that’s shooting through my body. Breath trembles from my parted lips, and I tug her so she falls into me. I band my free arm around her waist and kiss her deeply, pouring every ounce of my feelings for her into it.

There’s a loud whistle and a few chuckles, but they’re all lost against the way her mouth presses against mine.

Nothing else matters but this.

My heart. My love.

My wife.

Chapter 47

Elsie

Callahan is my husband.

We’re married.

Somewhere between the mantra on repeat, and our kisses, everyone has left. Callahan wasn’t for letting me go, and I think they took the hint and exited the room before they saw more than they needed to.

Last night, we had to put a pause on the fire burning between us when Reyne came for me, and it didn’t disappear as Reyne, Erin, and I had a pre-wedding girls’ night, filled with chocolate and pizza.

There’s no stopping it now, either. With the last barriers between us stripped away, we collide in a kiss that’s frenzied, and hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced. It consumes me.

“Get me out of here, Cal.”

“Anything you want, wife.”

Callahan drags me behind him as he sprints through the halls back to our rooms. Startled Seelie scamper out of our way with hurried bows, while Callahan tears through the halls without abandon.

Husband.

The word bounces in my head with every step.

He’s my husband.

I’m married.

He knows I have Dorche magic and he still chose me.

The love I’ve been quietly fighting steals my breath. I should’ve known better than to doubt him, and I know he’ll forgive me for it. He seemingly already has.

The slate has been wiped clean for us, and we can start again as husband and wife. As Anamara. Callahan’s soul fits with mine like we were made for one another.

The doors to our rooms close heavily behind us, and Callahan has me pinned up against it before I’ve even registered him moving me exactly where he wants me.

His mouth claims mine then marks my neck, tracing my collarbone. All while his hands grab at the fabric covering me.

“Are you attached to this dress?” he rumbles. Before today, I thought it was clear when we spoke mind to mind, only now do I see there was a film over his voice, a fine barrier that muffled him.

“No,” I pant.

“Good.”