Page 11 of Born to Be Legends (Soulbound Universe)

Wade thrust another glass of golden mead into Jono’s hand with a cheerful “Here you go!” and then wandered off back to his seat at the table where Riordan and his siblings were eating.

Jono peered down into the wineglass, tipping it slightly to watch the mead slosh about.

Emma and Leon Hernandez—they’d gotten married a few years ago—had ordered plenty from Thor’s brewery in Chicago for the occasion.

The mead definitely packed a punch for werecreatures if enough of it was imbibed.

Jono was of the thought he could maybe get tipsy by the end of the night, if he put effort into it.

“He’s trying to get you drunk,” Patrick said from his seat beside Jono.

“I think it’ll take more than a couple of glasses of mead for that to happen,” Jono said as he set the wineglass down.

His wedding ring caught the light from the chandeliers in the Terrace Ballroom, the polished platinum edge and line of gold glinting brightly.

It kept catching his eye, as did the one Patrick now wore.

He took a moment to look around them, gaze sweeping over the ballroom.

The floral centerpieces on every round table and the arches curved around the nearly dozen windows were a gift from órlaith.

The fae flowers were ethereal and beautiful, giving off a subtle scent tempered by magic to keep everyone from sneezing.

The catering had been done by an award-winning chef who owned and headed up a three-star Michelin restaurant in Manhattan.

Jono could admit that the four-course meal was absolutely delicious, not the least because extra portions had been allocated for the werecreatures in attendance, as well as others in the supernatural community with larger appetites, and Wade.

Marek had paid for the food and drinks at both the earlier outdoor cocktail hour everyone had enjoyed while Jono and Patrick took a metric ton of photographs and the reception meal.

The person handling the wedding music was a professional DJ from one of the packs under their protection. She had gladly agreed to handle the music for the evening, and right now, it was a subtle background noise while everyone finished up the dinner and chatted with their neighbors.

The table Jono sat at with Patrick had Sage, Marek, and Lillian seated with them.

Joining them were Nadine and her new partner, Pascal, along with Spencer, Gerard, and órlaith.

It had been nice catching up with people they hadn’t seen in a while.

Knowing that their friends were happy was a gift in itself.

Patrick nudged Jono in the side, catching his attention. “Yeah?”

“We should make the table rounds before we cut the cake,” Patrick said.

“All right.” Jono picked up his wineglass and downed the mead in a couple of quick swallows before pushing his chair back. He stood, offering his hand to Patrick, who rolled his eyes but took it with a smile on his face. “Let’s go say hello to everyone.”

They hadn’t been present at the cocktail hour, so this was the first chance they’d really been able to greet everyone who had come to the wedding. The first table they stopped at was the one where some of Patrick’s family sat, all of the Pattersons excited to see them.

It had taken some time for Jono to trust the lot of them, even after the coven had denounced Persephone as their goddess. But he’d come around eventually, and he greeted Eloise with a kiss on her cheek as Patrick’s grandmother smiled up at them from her seat.

“I’m so happy for you both,” Eloise said, beaming at them. “It was a lovely ceremony.”

“We’re happy you could make it,” Patrick said.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She cast a loving glance at Patrick, who leaned down to hug her, better at expressing emotion these days with his family than when they first met. Eloise clutched him back, whispering something soft into his ear that Jono politely didn’t listen to.

It went like that for their trip around the ballroom, spending time at every table to greet the friends and family who had joined them for the wedding.

They’d kept the number small for a wedding, not wanting or needing an extravagant day.

Jono and Patrick were both of the same mind that spending the day together with the people who meant something to them was all they wanted.

Sage had understood that without them even needing to tell her, and Jono needed to remember to thank her for handling the wedding for them.

It was everything they both would have wanted if they’d sat down to talk about it.

Wade leaned back in his chair when they finally reached his table, circling back around to the front of the ballroom. “Is it cake time now? Please tell me we can finally eat the cake.”

“Please tell me you ordered one for yourself,” Patrick retorted, but he was smiling as he spoke.

Wade gave him the most affronted look. “Of course I have my own cake! It wouldn’t be fair to everyone else if I didn’t.”

Jono laughed, well aware that Sage had planned for that scenario when she’d sent Wade to do the cake tasting. “If you get your own, then hands off ours.”

Wade put his hand to his chest in mock outrage. “I would never.”

“You say that like you haven’t eaten right off our plates before,” Patrick drawled before tugging on Jono’s hand.

A nod to the wedding organizer had the DJ calling for everyone’s attention.

Despite the multi-course meal, everyone was excited for dessert.

Jono was impressed when he finally saw the cake Wade had decided on for them.

The little sign depicting the flavors of the three tiers showed Wade had picked out Jono’s favorite flavor of chocolate salted caramel, a Grand Marnier–spiked lemon cake for Patrick, and blackberry-and-elderflower sponge cake as a flavor they both liked.

Gerard offered up his ceremonial dress sword with a smile before either of them could look for a knife. “A little longer than the blades I know you’re used to.”

Patrick snorted as he took the sword, delivered hilt-first to his hand. “A little overkill, but it’ll do.”

Patrick no longer carried a blade. Ever since returning the gods-given dagger at the end of the Battle of Samhain, he’d given up keeping weapons, letting his concealed-carry permit lapse after Lillian was born.

None of them had wanted a gun in the home where a child was present, and keeping the weapons seemed like an acknowledgment they expected another fight.

Jono was never going to tell Patrick what to do to feel safe, but he’d been relieved when his lover had willingly set his weapons aside.

Patrick readjusted his grip on the sword in his right hand with an almost absent-minded ease. Jono stepped up behind him, resting his left hand on Patrick’s hip before reaching for the sword hilt to settle his other hand over Patrick’s.

“Don’t cut mine!” Wade yelled from the crowd.

“I’m taking the middle piece of it just because you said that,” Patrick called back. Wade’s squawk of protest had everyone laughing.

Jono chuckled, brushing his lips over the shell of Patrick’s ear. “We could always shove the cake in his face.”

“Let’s not teach Lillian bad manners,” Patrick said. He raised the sword a little, and Jono followed the movement with his own hand. “Ready?”

Together, they raised the ceremonial sword until the tip of the ceremonial blade rested against the edge of the top tier of the cake.

With a seamless motion, they brought the sword down, cutting through all three layers at once as camera flashes went off from the photographer.

Jono let go of Patrick’s hand and stepped back just enough that he had room to return the sword to Gerard.

A server deftly handed over a linen napkin to clean the blade off.

Another server stepped forward with a much more manageable knife and cake server set, smiling at them both. “What would you like?”

“A slice of each. We’ll share,” Jono said.

The porcelain plate the wedding cake was served to them on felt delicate in Jono’s hands as he held it steady while Patrick cut a bite from the chocolate salted-caramel piece.

He lifted the fork to Jono’s mouth, feeding him the bit of cake, laughing as he did so.

Jono was barely aware of the pictures being taken, all his attention on his husband.

The cake was delicious, but what Jono enjoyed the most was the pure delight on Patrick’s face, his smile, and the sparkle in his green eyes.

Years ago, he never thought they’d reach this moment, yet here they were, surrounded by pack and close friends and family, with their battles forever behind them.

“Okay, Wade did pretty good with the flavors,” Patrick admitted.

“I told you to trust me!” Wade said as he walked past them carrying the tray that held his own sheet cake. “I wouldn’t pick out boring flavors for your wedding.”

“Your efforts are appreciated,” Jono said.

They returned to their table, where they discovered the wineglasses had been swapped out for champagne glasses.

Speeches had already happened during the meal in between the courses from quite a few people, so it was a much quieter affair during the cake course.

They traded the fork between them, offering each other bites in between conversation with those who stopped by their table.

The cake slices were quickly devoured, and a server brought them a second plate, to which Jono helped himself when Patrick professed he was full.

Jono ate with his left hand, his right holding Patrick’s, absently stroking the wedding ring there with his thumb. Letting him go seemed impossible just then, so it was probably a good thing that, once everyone had their fill of cake, it was time for the first dance.

“Just don’t step on Uncle Patrick’s feet,” Lillian warned Jono.

Their table cracked up at her words, and Jono shook his head as he pulled Patrick to his feet. “I would never.”