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“To the estate?” I stared at him. “You bought this before we knew what would happen.”
“The one surety I had through this was my love for you. No matter what happened, I knew I wanted to be with you. I couldn't go on without you.”
I kissed him, feeling Heartbreak's joy rise with mine. When we broke apart, I looked down at the ring on my finger. “It's beautiful,” I whispered. “Perfect. Thank you.”
“You're beautiful and perfect.” He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my lips. “And you're mine. And I'm yours. For as long as forever lasts.”
I laughed, breathless and overwhelmed. “That's a long time.”
“Not long enough.” He smiled, and it softened into awe. “I used to think forever was a hell I couldn't escape. Now, I'm grateful for it.”
We stood there, holding each other while Heartbreak pulsed quietly between us. Our love would hopefully change the lives of every Curse who faced the world alone. But in this moment, the world was just us.
Two people who'd chosen love even when all it offered was heartbreak, only to learn heartbreak was the other side of love.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Five months later.
The Conclave Estate looked like something out of a dream.
White roses and pale gold dahlias climbed the stone columns of the main manor's entrance, their petals catching the afternoon light. More flowers cascaded from iron urns along the gravel drive and spilled over the edges of the fountain in the courtyard. Thousands of tiny lights hung in the trees, invisible now but ready to transform the grounds into something magical once the sun set.
I stood at the window of our guest suite, the same one we'd stayed in before, watching our guests arrive. My mother adjusted my veil for the third time, her hands gentle against my hair.
“You look so beautiful, sweetheart.” Her voice wavered. “I can't believe my baby is getting married.”
“Mom.” I turned and caught her hands. “Don't cry yet or I'll cry and have to redo my makeup. Save it for the ceremony.”
She laughed, pushed back her blonde bangs, and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Too late. I've been crying since we got here. This place is incredible. How did Tristan arrange all of this?”
“He has connections.” The understatement of the century, but my mother didn't need to know Tristan's connections included immortal beings who governed his people, or how I was also an immortal being now. “The estate belongs to friends of his.”
My aunt Keiko, my dad's sister, swept into the room, elegant in navy silk. “The photographer wants family pictures before the ceremony. Are you ready?”
I smoothed my hands down the front of my dress—a simple column of ivory silk I thought was both timeless and modern. The neckline dipped low enough to hint at the golden sigil on my chest, though the design remained mostly hidden. My mother had asked about it, and I'd told her it was a tattoo Tristan and I had gotten together. A symbol of our commitment.
She'd thought it was romantic. She had no idea.
“I'm ready.” I picked up my bouquet—white roses and eucalyptus, tied with gold ribbon—and followed them downstairs.
The photographer posed us on the grand staircase in the foyer, in the garden, and by the fountain. My father kept making jokes to hide how emotional he was, while my cousins—three women in their twenties and thirties—peppered me with questions about Tristan.
“He's so handsome.” My cousin Mika fanned herself dramatically. “Where did you find him?”
“At work.” True enough. “He came to the museum to research an artifact.”
“And you swept him off his feet with your art conservation skills?” My cousin Hannah, on my mom's side of the family, grinned. “I love it.”
“Something like that.”
When Tristan and his grooms joined us, my cousins went silent.
My Aunt Keiko, however, had no shame. “Oh, my! Do you choose your friends by how handsome they are, Tristan?”
His friends, a group of Curses and witches, grinned and fawned on my Aunt, emboldening my cousins to up their game and hand out a few compliments themselves. The photographer had to shout to get us to pose, there was so much talking going on. After he got those shots, it was just Tristan and me posing together. There would be more photos taken during the ceremony and reception, but we needed some of us at our freshest.
The photographer released us, and we made our way back toward the manor. Guests had been arriving during the photography session and the courtyard was full of a mix of my family and friends alongside Tristan's supernatural acquaintances. To my parents, they were simply Tristan's colleagues, old friends, and distant relatives—his parents having died in a car accident (cliché but it worked). They all had cover stories they used when out in the mortal world and knew not to betray themselves, but they'd been warned they'd be in mixed company.