Page 121 of On Brutal Thrones

Somehow, that makes it feel more sacred.

I clear my throat. “Usually, the couple stands before their families and clan. The person making the vow steps forward and takes the other's hands.”

Nyx looks down at her hands, then back at me.

“And then?”

“You promise them the worst.”

Talon's brow furrows. “Romantic.”

“It is,” I insist. “You'll see.”

I know I'm supposed to explain more, but my throat has gone strangely tight. I've heard these vows my entire life. My mother told me about them when I was a boy. They're old, passed through berserker clans for generations, from people who had very little certainty in their lives except one another.

You don't promise only to love someone when life is easy. You name the thing you're most afraid could tear you apart. Then you promise it won't.

I draw a breath. “I'll go first.”

My feet feel strangely heavy as I move closer to her. It's only a few steps, but it feels like the longest walk of my life.

Nyx watches me come toward her, and her smile slowly fades into something softer. By the time I stop in front of her, my heart’s pounding so hard I wonder if she can hear it.

I hold out my hands. Nyx places hers in them. Her fingers are cool from the evening air. Mine are probably sweating enough to embarrass my entire clan. And suddenly I'm not thinking about Talon or Thorian or the Trials or whether I'm doing any of this correctly. I'm holding the hands of the woman I'm about to marry.

Hell. I'm getting married. Happiness wells up inside me so quickly my eyes burn.

I tighten my fingers around hers.

“I promise to be yours, Nyx.” My voice comes out rough, and I have to swallow before continuing. “I promise to love you even if one day you no longer feel the same love for me.”

Nyx sucks in a breath.

Her fingers tighten around mine. “I would never do that, Fenric.”

“I know.”

And I do. But that's what makes the promise matter.

“If you did, I'd still love you.”

Her eyes shine in the firelight.

I want to make a joke. Normally, this is the exact time when I'd say something stupid to make her laugh and save myself from feeling quite so much. But I don't, not this time. I just look at her and let her see it. All of it.

Nyx takes a shaky breath.

Then she gives me my vow in return. “I promise to be yours, Fenric. I promise to love you even when your anger pushes you to violence. Even when you’re not yourself, and you need someone to help you remember who you are.”

The words hit somewhere deep.

For a heartbeat, I'm back in the swamp. I remember the beast ripping through me, rage devouring everything else until I wasn't entirely Fenric anymore. I remember chasing Thorian. Fighting Talon. I remember coming back to myself afterward and realizing what I could have done.

Nyx saw that part of me. Maybe the ugliest part. And she chose it for her vow.

I will love you even then.

My eyes sting worse.