Page 164 of Wounded King

Before I have a chance to thank him or say anything, really, he turns and disappears as suddenly as he arrived.

Marcello exhales slowly, but his hand is still clenched, knuckles pale.

"You okay?" I whisper.

"I am now." He nods.

"Alright, that was intense," Pippa leans forward, holding her hands out, and I put the bouquet and the black box into them. Papà retakes my hand to place it into Marcello's, and he walks me to the altar. He's still stiff, but a gentle squeeze with my fingers makes him look at me. He takes a deep breath, and when we reach the altar, the priest opens his mouth, but Marcello interrupts him.

"Hold on," he sighs. "I love you. But this…" he shakes his head.

His hands reach forward, and the stupid tiara goes flying against a wall.

"Hey," Cat calls out, and Enrico laughs.

Then Marcello lifts the damn veil and brings it over my head, giving an audible second sigh. His eyes fall to the square neckline of my dress, rest on the rise of my breasts lasciviously, before next, the kitsch necklace is gone.

"I like these," I say, holding out my anklet.

"Fine," Marcello agrees, "now let me see you."

I giggle when he takes a step back to finally, fully take me in—I'm keeping the garter for later…

His eyes darken, and I feel myself blush. I've stood naked in front of him so many times, but I feel more vulnerable than ever right now.

"You're fucking perfect. Bellissima." He kisses me hard on the mouth before he takes my hands. "Begin," he barks at the priest.

I'm kind of losing myself in Marcello's eyes while the priest talks about sickness and health and the holy sanctimony of marriage. I'm only fully aware again when it's time to read our vows. Marcello goes first.

"Violet. They say a near-death experience changes a man's life. I don't know if that's true or not, butyouchanged my life. From the moment I first heard your voice and called you Chirps. When you toldme about football scores," there is some light snickering coming from the people on the benches. I can't believe he heard me and never told me.

"Or about the weather. It was your voice I heard and clung to. I woke up because I wanted to see you. I wanted to see the woman who knew who I was, what I am, and still saved my life twice.

"I can honestly say that seeing you that first time changed my life. I knew from that moment that I wanted you. I wanted you to be my wife, the mother of my children. You showed me what love is, and I will spend the rest of my days making sure you know how much I loveyou. I will protect you from anything and anybody for the rest of our lives."

Tears gather in my eyes. That was beautiful. So beautiful. I have to clear my throat, painfully aware that my vows aren't nearly as eloquent as his.

"Marcello. From the moment you were brought into my ICU, I started falling for you. It wasn't the most professional thing to do, a nurse falling for her patient, but here we are."

I pause, giving a few snickers a moment to die down. "Falling for you was like walking down the basement steps in a horror movie, where the audience screams,don't go."

More snickers follow. Marcello makes a weird face, and I hurry through the rest of my speech. "ButI'm glad I did. I will walk down those basement steps again and again if it means that you will wait at the bottom for me."

I bite my lips. This was kind of what I had prepared, but after hearing his speech, I veer from mine, "You said I changed your life, and maybe I have, but you have changed mine too. So much. You made all my dreams come true and showed me the person that was hiding inside me, too scared to come out. I love how much you care about me, how thoughtful and giving you are. I love your protectiveness and fierceness. Most of all, I love you. With all my heart."

Tears are falling down my cheeks now—honest, unstoppable tears. The kind that comes not from sadness, but from finally feeling safe. From finally beinghome. Marcello reaches up and brushes them away with his thumb, his smile warm and full of something I never thought I'd see in a man like him—peace.

I laugh softly through my tears, and he gives the priest a long-suffering huff that's so perfectly him—equal parts exasperation and impatience.

"You may now kiss the bride," the priest announces, and those words knock the breath right out of me.

Marcello doesn't hesitate. His lips claim mine with heat and certainty, and the moment they touch, a searing fire shoots down my spine. My arms fly around his neck like instinct, because there's nowhere else in the world I belong. His hands slide to my waist and pullme tight against him, as if letting even an inch of space exist between us is unacceptable.

His mouth moves over mine like he's sealing a promise in flesh and fire. His tongue sweeps into me, deep and possessive, and everything disappears—every scar, every lie, every war we've fought to get here. This kiss isn't just a kiss. It's the end of every storm. And the beginning of something beautiful.

I never want to let go. And with the way his hands grip me, I know he feels the same. In that moment, without a doubt, I know we'll be alright. I know that he will protect me for the rest of our lives. Know that our kind of love is the kind that will endure anything.

EPILOGUE