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“The name of your shellan is now upon your skin as in your heart. May you bear her symbols unto the world for your life, that all may know to whom you belong.”
The splash was cold, the burning like fire had been poured on him.
And as the Brotherhood’s chanting exploded in the foyer, he rose to his feet—and Rahvyn broke free of the Queen and ran to him.
Throwing her arms around him, he winced and she apologized, but he didn’t care and neither did she. They were kissing as cheers echoed all throughout the grand foyer.
“We did it,” he said against her mouth.
“We most certainly did.” She touched the gold that draped down his chest, the various necklaces and bracelets locked together, forming one long chain that he’d wrapped around and around his torso. “Are these your jesses?”
“They’re loaners.” He put up his jingling wrist. “All of them.”
“And earrings. Oh my, they loaned you… everything.”
“It was a group effort.”
And then she reached up to above his head. “Your halo… it has returned.”
“Has it, then.”
“Indeed.”
“Ah, well. You found it and brought it back to me, haven’t you.” He brushed her lips with his own. “I told you, you are the Gift of Light.”
She shook her head at that, but he was glad that there was no argument from her as the household converged upon them, everyone hugging and clapping, the doggen breaking out from the dining room with silver trays of champagne flutes.
And then Vishous was standing in front of them, the brother’s icy white eyes narrowed. As usual. “I still hate your taste in TV.”
Lassiter shrugged with a grin. “That’s because you’re emotionally stunted. It’s okay, I love you anyway.”
The tic in that eyebrow next to the tattoos at his temple was so dang satisfying. “We’ll talk about mental health later. But I will say this, right now. I totally approve of your taste in females.” He bowed. “Rahvyn, he’s very lucky to have you.”
As the brother straightened, Lassiter nodded and looked down at his mate, who was positively glowing. “You know, V. That is one thing that you and I are always going to agree on.”
Other people came by, a receiving line forming, and some kind of toast was made. And then another. And then came passed trays of little bits of food and more champagne as the meal was getting ready to be presented in the dining room.
Over the course of so many centuries, Lassiter had heard the expression “such-and-such was a blur,” and he hadn’t truly understood what they meant. He did now. He knew that Rahvyn was with him, and everyone in the household was happy, and the champagne was cold, the hors d’oeuvres involved melted cheese and almonds on crackers as well as other things, and everybody was celebrating.
But like the details of the ceremony, so much of what was going on around him was lost.
Maybe the nuances would come back. And even if they didn’t, the night was… utterly unforgettable, even if only parts of it sunk in.
Just before they went in to take their seats at the table, Rahvyn tapped him on the arm. “Lassiter,” she whispered.
He bent down. “Yes?”
“Um… who are they?”
As his mate discreetly pointed to the corner of the foyer by the billiards room, he started laughing at the lineup of cardboard cutouts.
“They’re friends,” he said as he tucked her against his side. “And I’ll show you all about them later, I promise. You’re going to love them.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
The festivities went on for hours, and Rahvyn absorbed it all, learning names and faces, and eating and drinking in an outrageously luxurious dining room, and listening to the guitar player with the scarred face who was certainly a master of his instrument. But eventually, she could not hide her yawns, no matter how much she tried. Not wishing for Lassiter to have to leave their own party, she went into the room with all of the green felt tabletops, and found a leather couch with the perfect contours to curl up in.
Her borrowed gown, though formal and certainly the most beautiful thing she had ever worn, was surprisingly comfortable, the long, loose skirting allowing her to tuck her knees up, as her head turned to the side and became cradled in the sofa’s arm.
In the background, there was the curiously enchanting sound of billiard balls knocking and falling into pockets, and males and females talking, and she was aware of feeling so at peace—which was a surprise, given this was the First Family’s mansion—
“Come here,” Lassiter said, “let me pick you up.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “Oh, I did not mean to fall asleep—”
“I’ve got you.” His arms shifted under her, and then she was being lifted. “And I’m going to take us home.”
“I can wake up—”
“No, it’s the perfect time to go.” He raised his voice a little as he spoke with someone she did not track as her lids somehow weighed more than she could lift. “What?… Yes—oh, come on, you’re the ones we need to thank. Can you make our goodbyes? And we’ll be up in the Sanctuary… honeymoon, yup.”
