Page 45 of Royal Bargain (Royals of the Underworld #3)

ANNIKA

I never thought looking at house listings would feel like this—like dreaming out loud with someone who wants the same future as you.

Liam sits next to me on the couch, his arm draped behind me, one foot bouncing with restless energy. “Okay, hear me out,” he says, tilting his phone toward me. “This one’s got a fenced-in yard, a porch swing, and it’s right outside the city. Twenty-minute drive, tops.”

I squint at the listing. “The kitchen’s tiny.”

“Yeah, but look at that bathtub,” he says, waggling his brows. “That thing’s practically a swimming pool. We could both fit. Comfortably.”

I laugh, leaning into him. “That’s what matters to you? The bathtub?”

“Hey, when you’ve been shot at as much as we have lately, you start valuing the little luxuries.”

He’s joking, but there’s a truth underneath it that we both feel. Things have settled down—for now—but the shadows haven’t disappeared completely. There are still people out there who want to see us fall. That’s why we’re doing this. Looking for someplace new. Something of our own. A fresh start.

Not his warehouse apartment. Not my father’s estate. Not a safe house or a hotel or someone else’s property.

Ours.

He scrolls past a few more listings, then pauses. “What about this one?”

I take the phone from him, studying the photos. A two-story townhouse with ivy on the brick exterior. A little patch of garden in front. Hardwood floors. A fireplace in the living room. And a nursery already painted soft lavender.

My throat tightens.

“This feels like…” I swallow. “Home.”

Liam’s quiet for a moment. Then he leans forward, resting his chin on my shoulder. “So we put in an offer?”

I nod.

But something lingers in the air. That unspoken urgency we’ve both been carrying. As if we're living in a borrowed moment. As if everything could shift again in the blink of an eye.

I turn to him. “Liam?”

He hums in response, already pulling up mortgage calculator apps.

“I don’t want to wait anymore.”

He glances at me, brows furrowed. “Wait for what?”

“For us. For the wedding. For the next step. I don’t want to plan some big event or wait for everything to be perfect. I want something small. Just us. A few people we love. I want to be your wife, now, while we still have this peace.”

His expression softens. “Are you sure? We could still do the big thing someday, you know. Flowers, first dances, a band that plays too loud…”

I smile. “We’ll throw a party later. Right now, I just want you. A dress, a courthouse, or maybe even your brother’s backyard. I don’t care. I just don’t want to waste another second pretending like we have all the time in the world.”

Liam cups my cheek. “Then we do it. This week. Tomorrow, even.”

“Really?”

He kisses me gently. “Really. You, me, Lily in a tiny flower crown. That’s all I need.”

The morning of my wedding dawns with pale gold light spilling through the windows of the Brannagan estate’s guest room. I should feel nervous. Or overwhelmed. But instead, there’s a quiet calm in my chest, like I finally exhaled after holding my breath for years.

Clary brushes a curl away from my cheek as I sit in front of the mirror. “You’re glowing,” she says with a warm smile.

“I’m sweaty,” I reply, laughing. “There’s a difference.”

“Nope. That’s the look of a woman who knows she’s making the right choice.” She squeezes my shoulder. “I missed you, you know.”

I look up at her in the mirror. “I missed you too.”

We’d only been friends for a short time before everything fell apart. But Clary’s kindness had stayed with me like the echo of a lullaby. Even after we stopped talking, I remembered how safe she made me feel.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For disappearing. For lying. For dragging you into all of this.”

Clary shakes her head. “You were protecting yourself. And now look at you.” She grins. “You’re about to become a Brannagan.”

“I think I already did the hard part,” I say, glancing down at my engagement ring—and the matching little flower crown waiting beside it for Lily.

The door opens and Sasha steps in, holding two cups of coffee and a garment bag slung over her arm. “You weren’t going to start without me, right?”

Clary smiles. “Perfect timing.”

I stand and hug my sister tightly. “Thanks for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” She pulls back, her voice softer. “You deserve a little happiness, Ana.”

It still feels strange to hear her say that—to be met with love instead of judgment from someone who shares my blood. But that’s why today matters. Because it isn’t just about me and Liam.

It’s about building something new.

Something stronger.

Something ours.

A knock on the doorframe makes us all turn. Darcy stands there, elegant and composed in her pale gold dress. Her hair is pinned up, and she holds a small makeup kit in one hand.

“Clary said you needed an extra pair of hands,” she says, and her eyes scan me—careful, observant.

“She’s the bride,” Clary says, motioning her in. “Be nice.”

Darcy steps closer, her smile polite but guarded. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me here.”

“I wasn’t sure either,” I admit. “But I’d like to get to know you.”

She tilts her head, studying me a moment longer. “You love Liam?”

“With everything I have.”

Darcy nods. “Then that’s a good place to start.”

The sun filters through the trees, dappling the Brannagan lawn in soft light. Rows of white folding chairs line the grass, simple floral garlands tied to their backs. It’s not extravagant. It’s not loud.

But it’s perfect.

Lily is in Clary’s arms near the front, wearing her tiny flower crown, babbling softly as if she knows this is important. Darcy stands just behind Clary, holding the bouquet Sasha helped me pick out that morning.

And at the end of the aisle, Liam waits for me.

In a dark suit, no tie, the top button of his shirt undone, his hair tousled like he ran his fingers through it too many times. He looks nervous. He looks wrecked. He looks like he can’t believe he gets to have this moment.

Neither can I.

“Ready?” my father murmurs beside me.

I nod, surprised by the swell of emotion in my chest. I didn’t think I’d want this. Him. Giving me away. But there’s something grounding in the weight of his arm, in the quiet way he walks with me.

We step out onto the grass.

As we move toward the altar, I catch glimpses of faces that nearly bring me to tears—Aleksey, standing quietly off to the side, his hands clasped in front of him.

My sisters, together in one row. Sasha gives me a little wave, eyes glassy while Sofia beams, proud of me.

Even Tatiana is here, chin trembling as she smiles.

I never thought I’d see them again.

And yet… here they are.

Here I am.

When we reach the front, my father leans in close and presses a kiss to my temple. “I was wrong about a lot of things,” he whispers. “But I was never wrong about your being strong.”

I blink hard as I take Liam’s hand.

And suddenly, it doesn’t matter how many people are watching. Doesn’t matter how much blood has been spilled, how many scars we carry.

Because in this moment, I know.

I’m not alone.

I never was.

The ceremony’s kind of a blur, if I’m being honest. Just flashes—sunlight in my eyes, Liam’s hands shaking as he fumbled with the ring, both of us laughing through the nerves. I remember his voice cracking when he called me his wife, and suddenly, it hit me. We really did it.

At the reception, Clary catches the bouquet, but without missing a beat, she passes it to Sasha with a smirk. Sasha turns beet red. I don’t think she’s stopped blushing since.

Everything feels so easy. Light. Like maybe we could have this kind of happiness after all.

And then something shifts. A ripple moving through the crowd, soft at first but spreading quickly.

People start whispering, turning their heads toward the far edge of the lawn.

Liam stiffens at my side, his protective instincts kicking in, but before anyone can draw a weapon or call for security, Kellan barks out a dry laugh.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Then she comes strutting across the grass in four-inch heels and oversized sunglasses, holding a champagne flute she definitely hadn’t gotten from the bar—Emilie Gunnerson, in a sparkly dress far too bold for the occasion, acting like she’d been on the guest list all along.

But I barely pay attention, even when I see her dancing with Lucky in the corner of the rented tent.

Because Lily was asleep in my arms, warm and soft against my chest.

Because Liam was brushing his thumb along my wrist, watching me like I hung the moon.

Because for the first time in my life, the world didn’t feel like something I had to run from.

When the sun finally set, casting golden light across the lawn, we said our goodbyes and slipped away—just the three of us.

Our new townhouse is quiet when we arrive, tucked just beyond the city, far from the chaos we’ve left behind. The porch light glows softly, welcoming us home. There’s still furniture to be arranged, pictures to be hung, a thousand little things left undone.

But none of it matters.

Not tonight.

Liam carries Lily in and sets her gently in the crib we built together last week. I follow behind him, shedding my shoes, my dress, the last remnants of the day. And when he turns to me—his hair mussed, his tie crooked, his smile tired but full—I realize…

This is what home feels like.

Later that night, after Lily’s asleep and we’re curled up on the couch in our new living room, I hear a faint, high-pitched mew.

I sit up slowly. “Was that… ?”

Liam grins like a guilty kid and reaches behind the armchair.

Out comes a tiny black kitten with a patch of white on her chest and enormous blue eyes. She blinks up at me, then lets out another squeaky mew as Liam hands her to me.

“She needed a home,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “And you’ve been doing so damn much lately. You deserve something soft, something that reminds you of me when I can’t be here. Something that we can share together, besides our daughter, of course.” He smirks.

I cradle the kitten against my chest, my heart swelling as she immediately starts purring. “You got me a cat?”

He shrugs, suddenly bashful. “I figured Lily has us wrapped around her finger. Maybe this little one could be your second-in-command.”

Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them away as I look at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m also stupidly proud of you,” he says, settling beside me, his hand resting over mine. “That festival performance? You owned that stage. You were incredible.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple, then my cheek, then lower. “You’ve built something amazing, Ana. Not just your career. Us. This family. This home.”

And then his mouth finds mine, slow and full of promise.

We end up tangled in sheets not long after, the kitten curled up fast asleep at the foot of the bed while Liam worships every inch of me. It's not hurried. It’s not wild.

It’s home.

Each touch is a vow. Each kiss, a thank you.

We move together like we were made for this—like the world outside doesn’t exist.

And when it’s over, he gathers me close and whispers against my skin, “I’ll never stop choosing you. Not in this lifetime. Not in the next.”

I press a kiss to his chest, my heart aching with love.

“I’ll always choose you too.”

And maybe our lives would become more complicated in the coming months. Maybe things would unravel before they got better. But for right now? We found each other again. We found a moment of peace, a moment of happiness in all this chaos.

And that’s enough. For now.