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The next day, standing in front of hundreds of people and with our friends scattered in the crowd, Lukas and I married.

When the priest had us speak our vows, formally tying our power and our lives together, I answered freely. Even if this had started as an arrangement, I wanted to marry Lukas.

Lukas slid a ring on my finger, decorated with a raw emerald and sapphire nestled together. I slid one of solid gold onto his.

Other than our rings, his hand gripped mine the entire ceremony, his thumb making passes over my skin to remind me that despite the crowd, it was just the two of us.

He certainly kissed me like it was just the two of us, pulling me in tightly and taking his time dragging his tongue across mine. When we broke apart, my cheeks were as pink as the flowers scattered across the room, complemented by the whites and soft oranges of the others.

Lukas turned us, facing our guests. My dress scraped against his pants, the fabric rustling around me.

I’d worn the dress my mother picked out, the skirt floating around in a poof of lace and tulle. I could at least give her that.

Because the dress I wanted, I’d worn earlier that morning.

Lukas and I snuck out of our rooms at dawn, dragging his mother and a bleary-eyed priest with us.

The court wedding was never ours and we wanted a ceremony that represented how we came together.

Just us, on our own terms.

Under the soft morning light, surrounded by flowers and plants in our garden, we kneeled before the priest and spoke vows that were just for each other.

I didn’t need a grand speech, not when Lukas squeezed my hand and said, “I love you. I amchoosingyou.”

He kissed my tears away, then swiped them with his thumb when they reappeared during my vows. “I love you. I want you. I need you.” It felt important to cover all three, especially when I’d spent so much wasted time obsessing over the difference between them.

The concept of being forced together didn’t even cross my mind. It couldn’t, when the priest blessed our union, and I felt the full force of Lukas’s power enter my veins. It felt like the rush of cool saltwater slipping over overheated limbs, taking any tension with it when the waves receded.

Lukas looked equally stricken. “What does my power feel like?” I asked quietly.

“Like you,” he said, voice hoarse. “Like your head falling back on my shoulder. Like your laugh. Like seeing you after a long day and waking up next to you in the morning.”

My heart felt like it cracked in half to make room for his love. I almost couldn’t bear it—the happiness.

You deserve it, I reminded myself. And then kneeling amongst the flowers and under the sea, I grabbed my husband and kissed him, hoping he understood that he deserved this too.

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Lukas

“I want a medal,” I said under my breath.

Daphne’s hand squeezed my bicep. “If you’re getting one, then I get one, too.”

“Gold,” I grumbled, staring at the wooden doors in front of us. “Hand crafted by Lia Vulcan.”

Daphne laughed lightly. “I think Hephaestus would probably take offense to that. You know how Quinn gets when you mess with his creativity.”

“They can each make one. Then we have two medals. I think that’s appropriate for making us do this.”

Daphne reached up and patted my chest lightly. “You’ll survive, I promise.”

“I’m not sure I will.” I slid my hand down Daphne’s back, catching her shiver under my palm. “Feels like you won’t either.”

Daphne broke, squirming a little. “Stop that. If I walk in that room blushing, everyone will think we were making out.”

Before she could protest, I gripped her chin and pulled her in for a deep kiss, shamelessly dragging my tongue along hers. When I let her go, there was a blush painting her cheeks a pretty pink.