Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I recite the vows that were crafted for members of the syndicate. They are by no means normal. They speak of family, honor, and blood. Loyalty and protecting one another at all costs.
They couldn’t be more perfect if I’d written them myself.
I will always protect Ronan, just as I know he will always protect me.
When Rory moves onto the blood rite, he hands me the ceremonial blade first. Ronan and I both knew we wouldn’t be able to cut each other, which was tradition, so we opted to do it ourselves. The only other option was having Rory perform the ritual, however I had a feeling Ronan might very well murder him if he cut me.
So with Ronan’s eyes on mine, while Rory recites the words that bind our souls together for eternity, I take the blade to my finger and then hand it off to Ronan. He does the same, and then our hands are bound together with a piece of ribbon.
“My anam cara,” we both repeat together.
They are the same words carved into our wedding rings in Ogham script. The words that mean, quite simply, his soul is mated to mine.
The ritual is more powerful than I expected it to be. Raw energy pulses between us, our souls and our love binding us as one. There are tears in my eyes when we exchange the rings. I’ve never felt more emotional in my life. The love that I have for this man overwhelms me. That love is reflected in Ronan’s eyes.
And finally come the words that seal our fates.
My life, my love, my breath.
May we always have each other, in this life and the next.
Rory hands us a cup which we both drink from, and then he proclaims the words that make it official.
We are now husband and wife.
Ronan kisses me, in front of everyone, and he doesn’t hold back. When he finally pulls away at Rory’s insistence, I’m laughing and a little off kilter.
We both walk to the alter and perform the last and final step of the ceremony. The lighting of the candle.
And then he promptly bundles me up into his arms and carries me to the back office which he insists is custom as well. I’m pretty sure he’s making that part up, but I go with it, because… Ronan.
Always Ronan.
Epilogue
Sasha
I’m still half asleep when the creaking of the rocking chair down the hall rouses me.
I glance at the clock and realize that I must have slept through her cries. I’m not in the least surprised that Ronan didn’t.
He once told me he worried he wouldn’t do well with her cries. He was right. Because every time he hears them, he’s the first to her side. She’s got him wrapped around her little finger.
I untangle my hair from my face and pad down the hall, peeking in to find Ronan in the rocking chair. Saoirse is bundled in his arms, sucking from the bottle in his hand.
He picked the name. A play on my own. I love it. I love everything about my baby girl. And my husband. And the sight of the two of them together right now, even in my sleep deprived state, still steals my breath away.
He leans down and kisses her forehead with the gentlest of touches, and then his eyes meet mine across the room. Even after all this time, he still makes me feel like I’m on a rollercoaster when he looks at me like that. My whole world is off kilter, and yet it’s never been more perfect. Saoirse starts to fuss, and he sets the bottle aside and rubs her back, soothing her almost immediately.
I’m not going to lie and say that I have the same effect on her. I don’t. But that’s just Ronan. He is the balm to both of our troubles. Our calm in the storm. Whenever she’s upset, all he has to do is hold her, and she’s okay. I know the feeling well.
And Ronan certainly doesn’t mind. He likes that he can calm her. Being a parent has changed him so much. Made him see the emotions he is capable of. He’s the proudest father I’ve ever had the fortune to know. The fact that he’s my husband and the father of my child is proof that lightning really can strike twice. I don’t know how I ever got so lucky.
When Saoirse is asleep, he bundles her into the crib and then comes back to me. His hand grazes over my cheek, strong and warm.
“Ye should be sleeping,” he says. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You didn’t,” I tell him.
He kisses me and leads me back down the hall to our bedroom. We’re both exhausted. But I’ve never been happier when he falls in beside me and then rolls me beneath his solid frame.