Page 53 of Thorns of Blood

“There’s nothing wrong with forever.” Before I could give her a chance to challenge those words, I told the priest, “You may start.”

His words filled the back of the deck as he started to talk about marriage and the value of vows. My brother shifted on his feet like he expected to burst into flames at the slightest movement.

“Would you like to say a few vows?” the priest offered.

Lia smiled sweetly, thunder flashing in her eyes as she shot me a glare. “Forgive me, I didn’t have a chance to write my own vows.”

Laughter traveled from my best man, which only deepened her scowl.

“I took the liberty of writing some for you.” I reached into the inside pocket of my jacket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “I think you’ll love them.”

She frowned as she unfolded the paper, scanning the vows that I jotted down for her while she was changing.

She snorted. “There’s no way in hell I’m saying any of this.”

“You’re welcome to make a few changes,” I smiled at her, raising my eyebrow, “but keep the gist of it intact.”

Lia’s eyes met mine and her cheeks turned crimson, probably because she was picturing what I’d written in there. It was the second time I’d seen her blush and I had to say, it was fucking addictive.

She cleared her throat, her frigid mask falling in place as she got herself together.

“How about I agree we have mutual respect for each other?”

Romeo stifled his laughter next to me.

I bent forward so that my lips were almost brushing her ear.

“I guess that will do. For now.”

The sound of her breath catching made me grin.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably, her cheeks stained red.

“You might as well come to terms with it now that it’s the best case scenario for you.” I straightened, and my eyes flicked down to her breasts which were rising and falling quickly. “And don’t even think for a second that I’m wearing a ring.”

“That’s fine, wildflower. Everyone will already know who you belong to.”

The priest cut in, shifting on his feet uncomfortably, and I gave him a nod. “You may begin, Father.”

He wasted no time, probably eager to get the fuck off this boat.

“Do you, Giovanni Agosti Tijuana, take Liana Volkov”—the priest’s eyes whipped up, but when he met my cold gaze, he averted them—“as your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to be with you always, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

My answer came swiftly and firmly.

I’d known it was her I wanted all along. All her sorrows. All her nightmares. All her pain.

After all, I’d lingered in the shadows for years, hoping for the chance to claim her.

The priest turned toward Liana and she shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable under his unspoken scrutiny, and a warning growl vibrated in my throat. I refused to tolerate anyone—including this priest—making Liana uncomfortable.

“Do you, Liana Volkov”—he cleared his throat uncomfortably—“take Giovanni Agosti Tijuana as your lawfully weddedhusband to live together in holy matrimony, to be with you always, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

Liana let out a frustrated breath, then rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

The priest glanced at me, then her, before he said, “I need the words.”