Page 29 of Frost and Felines (Saltwater Grove #5)

29

KIERAN

K ieran straightened his tie for the third time, surveying himself in the mirror. The custom-tailored grey suit hugged his muscular frame perfectly, complementing his auburn hair and making his blue eyes stand out even more. In less than an hour, Mallory would be his wife. Officially his, in every way that mattered.

"Looking good, boss." Charlotte appeared in the doorway, clipboard in hand as always. "Everything's set up in the outdoor gardens. The flowers look incredible."

"They better. Mallory and I have been planning, designing, and laboring over them since January." Kieran turned to face his manager, his chest swelling with pride. The outdoor gardens had been their first major project together—a vision they had crafted during those long winter nights after their engagement.

A low rumble of thunder interrupted his thoughts. Kieran's head snapped toward the window. Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, rolling in from the east. His tiger instincts heightened instantly, sensing the change in air pressure.

"That's... unexpected," Charlotte said carefully. "The forecast promised perfect weather."

Kieran moved to the window, his jaw slightly tightening. "The forecast doesn't account for storm witches."

This wasn't nature's doing. Those clouds carried Mallory's signature—the particular electric blue tinge at their edges, the way they moved against the wind rather than with it. After a year of watching her practice and master her abilities, he recognized her magical signature immediately.

"Is she having second thoughts?" Charlotte asked quietly.

"No." Kieran's response came instantly, a territorial growl underlying his certainty. "Something's bothering her."

For the past year, Mallory had maintained remarkable control over her powers. They had worked through her fears together—her old beliefs that she was somehow cursed and didn't deserve happiness. The storm clouds hadn't appeared unexpectedly in months. Whatever was causing this had to be significant.

"I need to go to her." Kieran moved toward the door, his protective instincts surging.

"But tradition says?—"

"I don't give a damn about tradition." He grinned, the charming smile that had once won him a reputation as Saltwater Grove's most eligible bachelor. "I've never been a traditional man."

Charlotte sighed but didn't try to stop him. "She's getting ready in her old suite."

Kieran nodded and strode through the inn's corridors with purpose, his presence commanding attention from guests and staff alike. The Hearthstone hummed with wedding preparations—floral arrangements in every corner, champagne being chilled, and the kitchen bustling with activity. Their special day, meticulously planned down to the last detail.

Outside, another rumble of thunder confirmed his suspicions. The storm was growing stronger. Mallory was upset about something, and nothing—not tradition, not superstition, not anything—would keep him from going to her.

As he rounded the corner toward her old suite, Kieran slowed his pace. He wouldn't barge in demanding answers. Whatever fears troubled her, he would soothe them away with the same patient determination that had won her heart in the first place.

Kieran soon reached the door of Mallory's old suite. Amy stood guard outside.

"Boss, you can't—" Amy's eyes widened as she took in his determined expression. "The groom isn't supposed to see?—"

"Amy," Kieran cut her off with a smile that combined charm and authority in equal measure. "I appreciate your dedication to tradition, but I need five minutes with my bride."

The young receptionist hesitated, glancing nervously down the hallway.

"Charlotte will forgive you," he assured her, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And if she doesn't, I'll handle it."

Amy's resistance crumbled. "Five minutes," she conceded, stepping aside.

Kieran slipped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Mallory's familiar fresh rain scent mixed with the unmistakable crackling energy that always surrounded her when her magic was active. Through the window, he could see the storm clouds gathering faster now, lightning flickering between them.

He about lost his breath when he caught sight of her. She stood by the window in her wedding dress, a vision in classic white satin that hugged her slender form before flaring out at the hips. Her hair was swept up in an elegant arrangement, tiny crystal pins catching the light like stars. She hadn't noticed him yet, her light blue eyes fixed on the storm brewing outside—the physical manifestation of her emotions.

"If you're trying to water the gardens before the ceremony, there are easier ways," he said softly.

Mallory whirled around, her hands instinctively flying up. "Kieran! You're not supposed to see me yet!"

He walked over to her and clasped her hands in his. "When have we ever done things the way we're supposed to?"

Despite her obvious anxiety, a small smile formed on her lips. "You know, you're impossible, right?"

"And you're creating a thunderstorm on our wedding day." He brushed his thumbs across her knuckles. "Tell me what's wrong."

Mallory's eyes darted away. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just..."

"Look at me," he commanded gently, lifting her chin with his finger. "Remember our deal? No more hiding. Not from each other."

She drew a shaky breath. "What if it's too soon? What if I'm not ready?"

"Then we don't do this today." His answer was immediate and firm. "We can wait another month, another year. Whatever you need."

"It's not that I don't want to marry you," she rushed to clarify, her fingers tightening around his. "I love you, Kieran. More than I thought possible. And I know—" her voice caught slightly, "I know Eli would have wanted me to be happy again."

"But?" he prompted.

"What if I disappoint you?" The vulnerability in her voice made his chest ache. "What if I'm not enough for you?"

Kieran nearly laughed at the absurdity of her fears. "Sweetheart, that's impossible. You could never disappoint me, and you are more than enough for me."

"And what if—" her voice dropped to a whisper, "what if I lose you like I lost him? I couldn't bear it, Kieran. I couldn't survive that grief again."

Now he understood the storm clouds. The recognition of her greatest fear hit him like a physical blow. Kieran felt a primal need to protect her radiate through his core. This woman—his heart—stood before him with fears that he could crush with his bare hands if only they were tangible.

He cupped her face between his hands, his blue eyes locking on hers. "Listen to me, Mallory Gale. I'm not going anywhere if I can help it. Tigers mate for life, and I've chosen you to be my mate." He pressed his forehead against hers. "You're stuck with me. For better or worse."

He felt her tremble slightly beneath his touch, and outside, the thunderclouds paused their advance, hovering uncertainly.

"My kind doesn't surrender what belongs to them," he continued, his thumbs gently stroking her cheekbones. "And make no mistake, you belong with me now. Just as I belong with you."

Vulnerability crossed her features. "But Eli?—"

"Was taken by something beyond his control or yours," Kieran said firmly. "I'm not planning on getting sick or leaving you, sweetheart. In fact, I've got about a hundred years of plans that involve waking up next to you every single morning."

The smallest of smiles quirked at the corners of her mouth. "A hundred years?"

"At minimum." He grinned, the predatory confidence returning to his expression. "My grandfather lived to a hundred and twenty-eight. I've got excellent genes."

A laugh escaped her, light and surprised, like sunshine breaking through clouds. Outside, Kieran noticed the storm beginning to recede.

"Now there's my girl," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers. "The woman who faced down a rune witch and saved my inn. The woman who rebuilt me when I didn't even realize how broken I truly was."

He kissed her then, deeply and thoroughly, claiming her mouth with unrestrained possession. His hands slid down to her waist, careful not to disturb her wedding dress but making it clear that nothing would separate them—not fear, not the past, not even death itself when it eventually came.

When he finally pulled back, the storm clouds had disappeared completely, leaving only the brilliant blue sky he'd paid a meteorologist to guarantee.

"I'll see you at the altar," he whispered against her lips. "Don't keep me waiting too long or I'll come find you again."

Her eyes opened, that perfect light blue that reminded him of summer skies after rain. "Promise?"

"Always," he said softly. "In this life and whatever comes after."

With a final quick kiss, Kieran slipped back toward the door, pausing for a second to say over his shoulder, "Oh, and Mallory?"

She looked up, her expression open and trusting in a way he had spent a year and a half earning.

"I expect at least three dances at the reception. And zero storms unless they're the kind we make together." He winked and disappeared through the door before she could respond, hearing her laughter follow him into the hallway.

Kieran watched with fierce pride as Mallory glided down the aisle toward him. The afternoon sun cast a golden halo around her platinum hair, and her light blue eyes never left his. Not a single cloud marred the perfect sky above their outdoor ceremony—a testament to her control and her happiness.

His chest swelled with possessive satisfaction. This remarkable woman had chosen him, just as he had chosen her. The tiger inside him rumbled with contentment, recognizing its mate.

When she reached him, he took her hands in his. The scent of her—rain and lightning and something uniquely, perfectly Mallory—filled his senses.

"You look absolutely breathtaking," he whispered, his voice a low growl meant only for her.

"You clean up pretty well yourself, tiger," she responded with that dry wit he adored.

The ceremony passed in a blur. Kieran barely registered the officiant's words, focused entirely on the woman before him. When the time came for his vows, he spoke from the heart, his voice carrying across the assembled guests.

"Mallory, when you walked into my inn last winter, you changed everything. I was a man who pretended he had it all figured out, but really, I was lost. Now I know I was just waiting for you." His thumb stroked across her knuckles. "I promise to be your shelter in every storm—whether it's one you create or one life throws at us."

A few chuckles rippled through the crowd, all familiar with Mallory's unique abilities.

"I take you—stubborn independence, magical outbursts, and all—as mine to protect, cherish, and love until my last breath." His voice deepened with conviction. "And probably beyond that, because I'm too stubborn to let even death separate us."

Tears glistened in Mallory's eyes as she delivered her own vows, promising to stand by him through everything. When they were finally pronounced husband and wife, Kieran didn't wait for permission to kiss his bride. He pulled her to him with gentle force, claiming her mouth with a kiss that balanced possessiveness with tenderness.

The reception that followed was everything Kieran had imagined. The Hearthstone's gardens had been transformed into an enchanted wonderland, with twinkling lights strung between trees and flowers blooming in abundance.

"Your mother would have loved this," Charlotte said, appearing at his side with two champagne flutes. "And your grandmother would have told you it's about time you settled down with a good woman."

Kieran accepted the champagne with a half-smile. "They would have adored her."

"They would be proud of the man you've become," Charlotte added, squeezing his arm before moving away to handle some minor crisis with the catering staff.

Kieran's gaze found Mallory across the reception, laughing with Nina and some of the inn staff. Happiness radiated from her, and he felt an answering pulse within his own chest.

He crossed to her in a few purposeful strides, sliding an arm around her waist. "Mrs. Striker, I believe you owe me a dance."

As he led her to the dance floor for their first dance, Kieran felt complete in a way he never had before. The playboy tiger had found his mate, the charming inn owner had found his equal partner, and the man who had always feared settling down had found the one person who made him want forever.