Page 32 of Depths of Desire (The Emerald Dagger Mafia #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

C andlelight flickers against the ancient stone walls, and I can hear the distant crash of waves through the cracked stained glass. Somewhere out there, Nico is preparing. Or maybe pacing. Or maybe second-guessing everything the same way I am.

My gown rustles as I shift on the sofa. My fingers ache due to how tightly I’ve folded my hands in my lap. Pippa and Mia have gone out to see what is holding everything up.

A sound comes from the shadows to my left. I flinch, then turn to see a man standing there. His long dark hair is tied back, and his green eyes sparkle in the flickering light. He’s wearing a black button-down shirt and a pair of jeans.

Renzo appears beside him. “This is the priest—Julien Montrevault—he has some questions for you.” With that, Renzo disappears.

Julien steps into the soft candlelight. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes... his eyes are kind. "You look like a woman about to leap from a cliff."

"Maybe I am," I say quietly.

He gives me a half-smile. He doesn’t look like a centuries-old vampire priest. He looks dark and dangerous, sexy. But his eyes, despite their sparkle, look like someone who’s seen too much. Lost too much. Survived more than he should have.

“May I sit?”

I nod, and he lowers beside me with the kind of grace only immortals seem to carry. For a long moment, we just sit there. The silence is comfortable. Grounding.

Then he speaks again. “You don’t have to do this, Luna.”

I turn my head sharply toward him. “Excuse me?”

Julien’s voice is low, patient. “If you are walking into this bond because of pressure—because of fear—I need to know. Because what we do here tonight is ancient and binding. It is not for show. It is not a farce to appease political alliances. And I won’t be the priest that binds two people together against their will. ”

My throat tightens. “It’s not that simple.”

He scoffs a little. “It never is.”

I let out a breath and gaze glumly at the floor.

“I didn’t grow up wanting this. I didn’t want a family soaked in secrets and blood.

I didn’t want to be hunted, used like some pawn in a game I didn’t agree to play.

And now Malrick Comescu is out there somewhere, planning to take possession of me like I’m property. ”

Julien’s jaw tightens at the name. “Malrick should have been dealt with long ago.”

“He wants to own me. Power, control... I’m a tool to him, a means to an end.”

“And Nico?”

I still, mulling the question. Considering what my answer should be.

Julien waits patiently. I think he already knows my answer. But he waits anyway.

“Nico…” I whisper. “He’s not like the others.”

“No,” Julien agrees. “He never has been.”

“He’s dangerous. Fierce. Ruthless when he needs to be. But with me...” my voice cracks. “With me, he’s different. Like he’s fighting some war inside himself just to be gentle.”

Julien watches me for a beat. “That’s because he loves you.”

I shake my head, eyes burning. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” he says simply. “I’ve known Nico Valdici since he was a boy with more fury than sense. I’ve watched him grow into a man who would burn the world to ashes to protect the people he loves. I have never— never —seen him look the way he does when he speaks of you.”

His words settle over me like a weighted cloak.

“Do you love him?” he asks, voice gentler now.

I swallow hard. “I don’t know what this is.

It’s not what I expected. But it’s real.

When he’s near, it’s like the air bends around us.

Like gravity isn’t of consequence. If we had met some other way, some other time, this would all be so much…

simpler. But we didn’t, and I’m scared of what it all means. ”

Julien nods thoughtfully. “You should be. Real love is terrifying. It changes everything. But if it’s any comfort, I’ve seen what a loveless bond looks like. What it does to both souls. And this?” He gestures to me, then to the door, meaning me and Nico. “This is not that.”

I sit in silence, absorbing his words.

“I won’t ask you again,” he says softly. “If you tell me now—if you tell me you don’t want this—I’ll find a way to stop it. To protect you. No one else even has to know. But if you do want this… if you want Nico... then I will perform the ceremony and bless your union.”

I lift my eyes to his. “I want to believe that we’re doing this for the right reasons, but I’m not so sure.

I’m doing this because I don’t want to die.

He’s doing this because he feels obligated.

What we feel for each other is too new…too raw to put into words.

I want to believe so badly that this will work out. That this will be a good thing.”

Julien smiles. “Then I will believe it with you.”

And for the first time in hours, I breathe. Julien squeezes my arm and then stands. “Time to get you married.” He leaves the room just as Pippa and Mia arrive.

“Are you okay?” Pippa asks me.

I shrug. “What is okay? At this point, I have no idea. But it looks like I’m getting married.”

Mia grins as she pulls me off the sofa. “Then let’s freshen up those final touches and get you down the aisle.

The chapel is eerily quiet, lit only by the trembling glow of a hundred candles. Light dances across the stone walls, casting long shadows. I feel each step like it’s carved in stone, the sound of my heels echoing off vaulted ceilings as I walk toward the altar.

Toward Nico.

He’s watching me like I’m the only thing that exists in the world. Like I’m both his salvation and his ruin. My breath catches when I see the look in his eyes—something deep and unreadable, something that tightens around my chest like a vise.

Julien stands just beyond of him, dressed in the same jeans and black button-down shirt he’d had on earlier, only now, a white collar is fastened above the buttons. There’s something ancient about him—an aura that doesn’t feel entirely priestly, despite the collar around his neck.

" In nomine noctis, in sanguine, et in aeternum ."

The words fall from his lips in Latin, low and rich, vibrating through the air like a spell. However, the language isn’t exactly the Latin I learned, so I struggle to translate them, but I feel the weight of the incantation in my bones.

" Nos congregamus hic sub testimonio sanguinis, sub lunam et tenebras, sub pactum vetustum. "

Each word echoes through the chapel. I glance at Nico. His face is impassive, but I know him well enough now to see the tension in his muscles.

Julien lowers his hands and turns to us. “In our world, marriage is not a contract of paper and law. It is bond and blood. Trust and consequence. Once made, it cannot be broken.”

My heart begins to pound.

“Do you, Niccolo Valdici, accept this bond, knowing its weight and its permanence?”

“I do.” His voice is steady. Certain.

Julien looks at me.

“Do you, Luna Benedetti, accept this bond, knowing its weight and its permanence?”

My mouth is dry. My knees are trembling. But I look into Nico’s eyes, and I find something solid there—something that tells me, no matter how dangerous this path is, I won’t be walking it alone.

“I do,” I whisper.

Julien bows slightly. “Then let the bond be forged.”

Luca steps forward with a blade—small, ceremonial, with runes carved into the hilt. Nico takes it without hesitation and slices his palm cleanly, the blood pools in his hand before he lets the crimson liquid drip into the crystal vial Julien is holding.

Then Julien turns to me.

“You must do the same.”

I swallow hard and take the dagger. The blade bites into my skin—sharp, shocking—and I flinch, but I don’t hesitate. I tilt my hand over the vial, letting my blood mix with Nico’s.

The moment our bloods touch, the liquid shimmers.

It glows faintly blue, almost alive. It grows brighter and then sparkles.

I feel it hum in the air like an electrical charge.

Is this normal? I swallow a laugh. Nothing about this is normal.

Nico’s eyes widen at the sight, but then he turns and smiles at me, and I go all warm inside.

Julien unrolls a heavy parchment edged in gold and dips a quill into the vial.

“You will sign here,” he says to Nico, who takes the antiquated quill and inks his name.

Then points out another line to me and Nico extends the pen my direction.

I take the quill, my hand shaking slightly as I scrawl my name in blood beside his. The moment I finish the last letter, the paper pulses with light and then seals itself shut with a hiss, like a breath drawn in reverse.

Julien raises the scroll high.

“It is done,” he declares. “You are bound. Blood to blood. Life to life. You are now husband and wife in the eyes of the old world and the new.”

I can’t move.

My hand is still bleeding, so is Nico’s, and then—gently, reverently—he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the wound. His power seals the cut instantly with a wave of warmth that shoots up my arm and into my chest.

I hesitate for a second, then do the same. I lift his hand to my lips, press a kiss to the cut, and I swear something shifts between us. Like a bond locking into place. Like the world just turned on a new axis.

Julien steps back into the shadows, silent now. Watching.

Nico takes my face in his hands, and the look in his eyes undoes me. And when he kisses me, it’s not for them. It’s not for the ceremony. It’s for us.

And hope blooms in my heart.

It’s a whirlwind after the ceremony. We’re back at Nico’s house in what seems like minutes.

As if I weigh nothing, he lifts me into his arms and carries me over the threshold, then up the stairs to his bedroom.

There’s a bottle of champagne on ice beside the bed.

Nico sets me down and kisses me until I’m breathless.

“Mrs. Valdici, would you like a glass of champagne?”

I grin at the sound of my new name on his lips. Maybe Mia and Pippa were right. Maybe this will be much better than I feared. “Yes, I would.”

He kisses each of my hands and then moves to uncork the champagne.