Page 15 of Savage Temptation (Savage Reign #2)

EMILIA

T wo weeks ago, I was almost a ghost. A wisp of regret and old wounds drifts through the ruins of my own choices.

Now, I’m squinting against the late October sun as it filters through ancient cypress branches, their limbs a lattice of shadow and light.

Damp earth scents cling to the air, laced with a deep sweetness—wildflowers, lilies, and something musky-spicy that could be just this part of Louisiana after a rainstorm.

Jagger wraps his hand tightly around mine as we walk the winding dirt path out behind the Savage compound.

Each step crackles over pine needles, the soggy mulch sinking gently beneath my heels.

We’re heading toward the Grove. Believe it or not, at one time, I thought this place was just a rumor.

And then Charli and the club candy whispered about blood oaths and MC secrets.

Really spooky stuff. But now, all I see is hallowed ground and a spot that will seal my fate to a man forever.

All the Savage brothers say outsiders aren’t allowed here.

But I’m not an outsider now, not with Jagger’s love pulsing in my blood, his soul tethered to mine.

He squeezes my hand as we turn onto the path that will take us to the Grove, his thumb brushing slow circles against my skin, as if to say he’s real, I’m here, this is happening. Not even the cicadas can drown out my heartbeat, wild and bright as we move deeper into the forest.

Warm light catches on a string of bourbon bottle lanterns dangling low from the trees.

Amber fireglass flickers in each one, casting lazy spirals over the moss-dripped trunks.

The wrought-iron gazebo at the heart of the clearing has always looked haunted and beautiful with its twisted parts draped in green and its iron bones holding secrets and memories.

Tonight, it’s absolutely glowing. Arabelle and Charli spent the last week getting this place ready and I’m in awe. It’s magical. And, between you and me, I feel like everything that ever hurt me has been left behind, never to touch me again.

Arabelle lent me a dress. I don’t have much clothing, but that can come later.

I run my fingers over the dress. It’s soft gray cotton with long sleeves and a hem that lands just above my knees.

A wrap of sheer violet silk ties at my waist, the color of a dusky October sky.

It’s the kind of dress you wear barefoot, toes curling in the pine needles, hair wild and free.

It smells like lavender soap and a promise I can barely believe I finally get to keep.

Jagger squeezes my fingers. “You sure you’re okay, baby?” His voice is a low, dark rumble that always makes my heart stutter. I nod, but nerves have my stomach tangled into knots. “I keep thinking it’s a dream,” I whisper. “You’d tell me if I was sleepwalking, right?”

He huffs a soft laugh that sounds more like a storm breaking over the horizon. “This—” he says, swinging our joined hands, “—is the most real thing I’ve ever had.” His thumb sweeps over my knuckles, warming me more than the lantern light.

As we step closer to the gazebo, I spot the lilies first. Their creamy white petals tremble in the breeze alongside tufts of wild grass.

They’re everywhere, festooned at the base of the gazebo and lining the moon-soaked edge of the clearing.

My breath catches. I turn on my heel toward Jagger, mouth open in shock.

He grins, sheepish and wolfish all at once.

“Had ‘em planted when you left. Figured one day I’d get the chance to put a ring on your finger and I wanted those same flowers for you.” He tips my chin up, eyes shining so full of love I almost forget that the world beyond the trees still holds threats, unanswered questions, unfinished fights for us and the entire Savage crew.

Beyond the laughter of my found family, there’s still danger clawing at the edges.

I sweep my gaze over the crowd. All the Savage Reign crew are here except for one. Ash, the club VP is off on assignment.

Everyone else is in their leather cuts over crisp, white shirts and pressed jeans, arms looped over shoulders, eyes shining with unshed tears. I spot Charli as she swipes at a smudge of mascara. There are cheers and whoops as we pass, a sound that makes me feel like I’ve made it home.

And then there’s my sister. She has the same shade of hair as me, but she has our mother’s blue eyes where I have our father’s green ones. I rush to her and take her in for a long hug.

She arrived late last night, and we stayed up all night talking. “I love you,” I tell her and hurry back to Jagger who is waiting with open arms.

Arabelle sweeps in, hugging me so tightly I laugh and almost lose my breath. “Thank you for lending me the dress,” I murmur in her ear. “Sorry to say I might have to skip book club this week. I’ve got a honeymoon.”

She wipes her eyes, kisses my cheek, and leans in. “Just bring your man next Friday. The girls will want all the dirty details.”

Angel Baby waves a silk handkerchief and blows me a kiss. For one golden moment, I am cradled in the warmth of belonging.

I glance toward Reaper. He stands at the edge of the altar, somber and strong, hand resting gently on Arabelle’s back.

His gaze flickers to the shadows between the trees as if he expects Ash to materialize at any moment.

Jagger’s brothers are worried about their VP who has been off the grid for days, chasing down leads on Euphoria.

My heart pinches for him and I whisper to Jagger, “Maybe we should wait. Ash…he’d want to be here when you… when we…”

Jagger shakes his head, stubborn as ever. “No postponing. I’m not handing another minute back to fate, not after what we lost. Ash will be fine. He’s a survivor. You know that.” There is an iron certainty in his words.

Thunder rumbles in the far-off bayou, a promise or a warning, I don’t know which.

Jagger leads me up the two steps to the gazebo.

Mist curls in the amber lantern light, softening everything to a dream.

The moss-draped stone altar gleams with rainwater and our reflections.

I breathe in old pine, muddy earth, and the faintest drift of honeysuckle.

Every sense comes alive, drinking in the home I never thought I’d return to.

Reaper steps forward, a leather-bound book in his hands and a crooked grin twisting his serious face. “Never told you I had my license, did I?” His eyes gleam with a secret mischief. “Figured it’s about time we did something right around here.”

Everyone laughs and the ripple of relief from that one unified sound washes away all the heartbreak we’ve weathered. I peek at Jagger. There’s a sense of warmth about him as if all his pain has turned into unfiltered hope just for me.

We trade vows beneath the bourbon bottle lanterns, surrounded by our family and the humming of cicadas.

The Grove served as a silent witness to all our past pain once, but now sings with the promise of new beginnings.

Jagger’s hands tremble as he slides the simple gold band onto my finger.

My lungs feel full for the first time since the day I left him at this altar years before. And this time, I’m not turning away.

He leans in close, our foreheads brushing. “This life, this love…it is forever, Emilia. I promise. Nothing and no one will ever come between us again.” My heart shatters and heals all at once.

I whisper, “I love you, now and always. You’re my home. My whole damn world.”

Reaper declares us husband and wife to the sound of loud cheers and so much energy rushing at me, I will never feel unwanted again in my life.

Jagger kisses me as if trying to stitch us together at every seam. The Grove erupts in laughter, a wild, jubilant joy hot enough to chase every shadow away. My eyes fill as I look around at my family knowing I am finally, unequivocally home.

Jagger sweeps me up in his arms, whirling me around while everyone claps. For a moment, there’s nothing but us and the chorus of old trees, the soft tap of rain starting on the gazebo roof, the gold halo of lanterns swinging gently in the autumn wind.

Then Jagger’s phone rings, slicing through the joy.

“We need to talk about that phone,” I say with a bit of laughter and some irritation.

“I know, baby, but Ash is out there and if he needs help…”

I raise a hand. “I get it, my love.”

He hushes the crowd and puts it on speaker for Reaper. The air goes tense as we all lean in.

Ash’s voice, ragged, triumphant, and wild as ever, explodes through the silence. “So. Um…I just kidnapped a Vulture bride. Long story. Shit is about to go down.”

Well, shit.

I grip my new husband’s hand and let it all sink in. This is our forever. This is family. And it sounds like more trouble is on the way.

A sh has never met a problem he didn’t want to face head-on.

Especially when it comes with a set of pretty blue eyes and lips made for kissing.

Preorder the next Savage Reign novella now to follow Ash and Isa on one helluva ride.

A runaway-bride ? protector-VP MC romance with fierce “touch-her-and-die” heat

I was supposed to walk down the aisle and seal a cartel alliance with my silence.

Instead, I fled in a torn satin gown straight into the arms of the devil who has sworn to destroy my would-be groom.

Silas “Ash” Draven

Vice President of Savage Reign.

The man New Orleans whispers about when monsters go missing.

He found me hiding in an abandoned chapel, veil in ruins, heart hammering louder than the church bells.

One look at my tear-stained cheeks and bruised wrists and he made a vow of his own:

“Cross this threshold, angel, and your past burns with it.”

Now the cartel’s bounty hunters stalk the bayou, and every shadow echoes with vows of vengeance.

Ash keeps me close, his lethal hands resting on his weapon—or on my waist, branding me his.

He says I’m off-limits, protected, safe behind Reign’s walls.

Yet every possessive growl, every night he stands guard outside my door, turns the danger into desire.

I’m the runaway bride who ignited a gang war.

He’s the club’s VP and ready to torch a city for one stolen kiss.

Can I gamble my shattered future—and my heart—on the man who promises salvation in flames?

Or will the ghosts of my wedding day drag us both to hell?