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And there, beneath an arch woven with native flowers and greenery, stands Reign.

My breath catches at the sight of him. His powerful frame is barely contained by the dark suit he wears, the formal clothing somehow emphasizing rather than hiding the primal strength beneath. No tie, just an open-collared white shirt that reveals the hollow of his throat where I love to press my lips. His hair, usually tousled by my eager fingers, is combed back but still threatens to break free. But it’s his eyes that stop my heart. Piercing blue, locked on mine the moment I appear, darkening instantly with recognition, possession, desire.

Marcus stands beside him as best man, solid and steady as always. He’s been our constant support, handling the legal aftermath of the lakehouse, arranging for this private ceremony, ensuring our safety while the media frenzy over Gio’s death slowly fades. His wife Lainey sits in one of the few chairs arranged before the arch.

And there, in the front row, sits Ben—the unlikely ally who became family in the span of a single night. The man who helped his brother rescue me, who stood guard over the cabin afterward, who defended us to the press when questions arose about the “security consultant” who killed the renowned businessman Gio Vega. Now, he’s here to witness me become part of his family officially, his expression a mixture of happiness for his brother and lingering protectiveness that reminds me so much of Reign.

Violet and Iris reach the arch first, taking their places opposite Marcus. Then I’m walking alone, my bare feet pressing into sun-warmed grass, my eyes never leaving Reign’s.

When I reach him, Reign doesn’t wait for the justice of the peace to prompt him. His hand reaches for mine, large and warm and slightly rough, fingers threading through mine with that perfect combination of gentleness and possession that defines him.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, voice low enough that only I can hear. “Mine.”

The simple claim sends heat spiraling through me, even now, even here. The justice clears his throat, beginning the brief ceremony we requested. The words wash over me—commitment, partnership, unity—but all I can focus on is Reign’s thumb tracing small circles on my palm, the intensity of his gaze that hasn’t left mine.

When it’s time for vows, Reign speaks without notes, without hesitation. His voice carries through the clearing, unapologetic in its raw honesty.

“Audrey, I claim you today as my wife, my partner, mine to protect and possess.” No softening of his language, no concession to our small audience. Just Reign, honest and direct as always. “I promise to stand between you and anything that would harm you. I promise to give you the freedom to be exactly who you are, to never cage the spirit I fell in love with.” His hand tightens on mine. “I promise to want you, need you, crave you every day of our lives together. To never take for granted that you chose me, that you fought for us.” His voice drops slightly, roughening with emotion. “I promise to be the man you deserve. Honest, faithful, and yours completely.”

When my turn comes, I speak just as directly, my voice steady despite the emotion tightening my throat.

“Reign, I choose you today as my husband, my protector, my home.” I hold his gaze, letting him see the certainty in mine. “I promise to stand beside you through whatever comes, to fight for us as fiercely as you fought for me. I promise to never hide from you, to be as real and honest as you’ve always been.” My voice softens slightly. “I promise to belong to you by choice, not obligation. To choose you every day just as I’m choosing you now.” I squeeze his hand. “I promise to want you, need you,crave you with the same intensity that still takes my breath away. To be yours completely, just as you are mine.”

The justice speaks again, but I barely hear him. Reign’s eyes have darkened further, that familiar heat building between us even in this moment, this place. When Marcus hands him the ring—a simple gold band so different from the ostentatious diamond Gio placed on my finger—Reign slides it home with possessive satisfaction, his fingers lingering on mine as if he can’t bear to break contact.

I do the same for him, the gold band a perfect contrast against his tanned skin. The weight of it, the visual claim of it, sends a thrill of satisfaction through me that matches the one I see in his eyes.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Montana, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the justice concludes. “You may kiss the bride.”

The formal phrase barely leaves his lips before Reign pulls me against him, one hand at my waist, the other tangling in my hair. His mouth claims mine with controlled violence, the kiss more possession than celebration. I melt against him, my arms winding around his neck as my body molds to his. The small audience, the mountain setting, the entire world fades away until there’s only this—his mouth on mine, his body hard against me, the promise of everything we’ll do once we’re alone.

When we finally break apart, both breathless, I see the same dazed happiness in his eyes that I feel coursing through me. The small group of friends applauds, Iris wolf-whistling with characteristic boldness. But I can focus only on the man before me, on the gold band circling my finger, on the knowledge that I am no longer Audrey Worthington by birth or the almost-Audrey Vega by arrangement.

I am Audrey Mitchell by choice. And for the first time in my life, I am exactly where I want to be.

The End