Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) (65 page)

BOOK: Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment)
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“Hey, handsome,” she whispered, her voice temptingly husky from sleep. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

 

“Because I have something for you.”

 

Her eyebrow went up even as her gaze dropped to his hands. “What?”

 

He grinned, offering her his empty hands. “You’ll have to come with me.”

 

Eyes narrowed warily, she placed her fingers in his and let him guide her out of bed. “All right.”

 

“But before we can proceed.” He released her and reached for the dress bag he’d set aside. “You need to dress the part.”

 

The sharp little points of her fangs flashed as she laughed. “Must be somewhere important if I have to get dressed.”

 

“I don’t know about important,” he mused. “But I’m hoping it will be memorable.”

 

With delight shining in her eyes, she took the hanger and dress from him and hurried into the washroom. She left the door slightly ajar as she changed. He heard the faucet run for a several minutes, heard the rustle of plastic as she unzipped the protective sheath around the dress. He held his breath as he waited for her reaction. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard her gasp, which could have meant anything. But it was her scream of sheer girly delight that made him grin.

 

“Octavian!” She was through the door like a bolt of lightning and in his arms in nothing but her under things. Her excited squeals rang in his ears as he scooped her off the ground and pressed her close. Eyes shining like rubies, she pulled back to peer into his face. “How did you know?”

 

It took a great deal of control to maintain an expression that exuded confidence and self-assurance and not bone crippling relief. She would never know how close she’d come to getting a lamp because she would never know just how ridiculously horrible he was at picking gifts.

 

“I saw you the day you were looking at it,” he said, silently patting himself on the back for his memory.

 

“But it…” She shook her head. “It must have cost a fortune.”

 

“Not really.” Truthfully, he had no idea how much it had cost. He’d walked in, told the woman the size he needed and given her his card. He hadn’t cared to ask how much.

 

“I can’t accept—”

 

His fingers were on her lips, stilling her words. “I tossed the receipt. They won’t take it back. It’s too late. You have to wear it or it’ll go to waste.”

 

He could see the war raging behind her eyes, see the temptation luring her to succumb. “Octavian…”

 

He traced the pouty curve of her bottom lip with his fingertips. “Please, baby. I want to see you in it. You don’t want to hurt my feelings do you?”

 

Her shoulders slumped. “You don’t play fair.”

 

He grinned. “You’ll forgive me. I promise.”

 

She smiled at him. “I do love it. Thank you.”

 

Planting a kiss onto his cheek, she bounced back into the bathroom. When she emerged a few moments later, she was a vision in the red gown he’d seen her eyeing the afternoon she’d helped him find birthday present for his mom. The thing had looked like any other dress in his opinion, but the forlorn longing in her eyes when she’d been seen it… he
hated
that look. He wanted never to see it in her eyes ever again. That look she’d just given him as she bounded out of the bathroom with stars in her eyes and the biggest, brightest smile on her face… that was a look he wanted to see always. But more than anything, he wanted to be the one to make her squeal with unadulterated delight like she just had. That sound was the thing of Angels. He wanted to box that sound up and keep it in his pocket.

 

“What do you think?” she asked, spreading her arms open wide and doing a little twirl that had the puffy part of the dress balloon and the gems along the waist and down the skirt glitter.

 

In his eyes, the dress was like any other dress, but on her, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It brought out the soft flush in her cheeks and the color in her eyes. Against her soft, alabaster complexion, it was fire. She’d done that thing that women were so good at with her face. Her eyes were smoky and luminous against her face. Her lips were a vivid red that matched her dress. Her cheeks were just the right shade of pink to give her an air of innocence that made him want to ravage her. She wore no shoes and her small, naked toes poked out from beneath the hem.

 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, unable to take his eyes from her.

 

She dropped her gaze, bottom lip caught between her teeth. She brushed the skirt with small nervous hands. “Thank you.”

 

“We’re just missing one last thing.”

 

“Shoes?” she murmured, glancing down at her toes, which wiggled.

 

Octavian’s lips twitched. “Not quite.”

 

He reached behind him and produced a sleek, black scarf from his back pocket. He held it up, eyebrow raised in challenge.

 

Riley bit her bottom lip. She was getting really good at that, he noted. She hadn’t accidently poked herself once with her fangs.

 

“I’m nervous,” she whispered, turning her back to him. “I’m not sure how I like surprises.”

 

He gently lowered the fabric over her eyes and fastened it in place at the back of her head. “Haven’t you ever had a surprise before?”

 

She shook her head. “No. Never.”

 

He made a deep humming sound as he let his fingers drift down and lightly brush her bare shoulders.

 

“Well, we will have to change that.” He pressed a tender kiss to the spot stitching her neck and shoulder into place. A shiver passed beneath his lips. “Ready?”

 

She nodded. “But I don’t have shoes.”

 

He took her fingers. “You don’t need them.”

 

With her hand in his, he guided her from the room, down the stairs to the kitchen. Carefully, he led her through the swinging doors into the dining area.

 

“Okay, wait right here,” he murmured as he released her for just a second to double check that everything was in its place. He knew his mother would have taken care of all the little details, but he couldn’t help being a tad nervous. He wanted this moment to be perfect for her.

 

Satisfied that nothing had been forgotten, he returned to her. “Okay?” he asked her as he took both of her hands and drew her deeper into the room to the spot he needed her.

 

“Yes,” she said, her voice wavering only slightly.

 

“I’ve wanted to do this for quite some time,” he told her, running his thumbs over her knuckles. “But everything kept happening and…” He slid his hand up her right arm to lightly trace the mark on the inside of her elbow. “I’ll understand if this isn’t something you want and we don’t ever have to speak of it again—”

 

“You’re making me nervous, Octavian,” she whispered with only a hint of teasing in her otherwise tense tone.

 

“Sorry.” Releasing her hand, he reached for the blindfold and undid the knot. It slipped off her face and he watched as she blinked, bringing the room into focus.

 

Her eyes widened. Her jaw slackened. She stared with a look of absolute wonderment. “Oh my!” she breathed, covering her mouth as she did a circle.

 

Candlelight reflected in her eyes and danced off her skin. It shimmered over every gem on her dress. The room was aglow with the hundreds of fat, white candles and water lilies floating in bowls of water. A fire blazed in the hearth, crackling merrily in the silence. Along the stone lip sat the required single white ribbon, the incense sticks, the goblet of water, and the bowl of white rose petals needed to complete the ceremony.

 

Riley turned to him. “What is this?”

 

The moment of truth,
he thought, his gut clenching.

 

“Riley, I love you. I love absolutely everything about you and I want to bind my future with yours… if you’ll have me.”

 

Tears glistened like diamonds in the firelight as they clung to her lashes. “I don’t know what that means.” She laughed uncertainly. “But I love you, too.”

 

“Selkies don’t have weddings. We have binding ceremonies where the eldest in the group binds the couple imprinted. I want to bind my heart and soul to yours.”

 

A tear slipped her lashes and caught on the corner of her lip. “You want to marry me?”

 

“With everything in me.” He gently swiped away the tear. “Will you have me?”

 

For a second time that night, she threw herself into his arms.

 

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “I want it so much.”

 

Swamped by an overwhelming sense of relief, Octavian gripped her close. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Behind them, the kitchen door opened and his father emerged, followed closely by his mother and then his brothers. Riley pulled away as they took their positions around them. As the eldest preforming the ceremony, his father stood by the fire. His mother stood by Riley as her patron. As the second eldest, Gideon took the same position by Octavian while Reggie and Magnus stood three feet away as witnesses.

 

His father began, starting off with a prayer in Gaelic about new beginnings and treasured moments. He knew Riley didn’t understand it, but she seemed so enthralled, he doubted it mattered.

 

When his father finished and turned for the items by the fire, Riley’s craned her neck to see. Her eagerness endeared him.

 

His father took up the ribbon, held it over the fire for a second before coming to them. Octavian held out his hand to Riley, and watched as she willingly placed her hand in his. He curled his fingers around hers and gave a light squeeze, but it was his heart that was squeezed back when she met his gaze and smiled.

 

“Trust.” His father wrapped the ribbon once around their joined hands. “Unity.” Another wrap. “And devotion.”

 

He turned their hands on their side. Turning his back on them, he lit the incense stick in the hearth fire then tucked it between their fingers so they both held it.

 

“Breath from air,” his father said. “Water.” He gave Octavian the goblet filled with water in his free hand. “From life.”

 

Octavian brought the goblet to Riley’s lips in indication that she drink. When she took a sip, he passed the goblet to her. She repeated the gesture. He watched her over the rim as he drank.

 

His father took the cup, pulled out the incense stick from their joined fingers and replaced it with the rose petals.

 

“Body from earth,” he said. Taking their wrists in hand, he guided them over to the hearth. “Soul from fire.” He made them release the petals into the flames. As the petals shriveled up, perfuming the air with its subtle scent, his father turned them to the small group. “You were born from ashes, you will die of ashes. Never forget where you have begun or risk forgetting where you will end. From this moment, your journey starts together and only together shall it end.”

 

Hands still bound, Octavian pulled Riley to him. “
Tá grá agam duit. Is liomsa thú agus is leatsa mé anois is go deo,
” he murmured before lowering his mouth to hers.

 

The kiss wasn’t part of the ritual, but he couldn’t help it. He’d waited long enough to taste her. He couldn’t stand to wait a moment longer.

 

She tasted of passion and warm nights over sandy beaches. She tasted of heaven and sin, of lust and temptation and all the things that were designed to make a man fall. She was the forbidden apple and he was aching to take a bit. He was ravenous and she was his sacrifice. God, he couldn’t get enough of her.

 

A soft, discreet cough reminded him they still stood in the middle of the altar, his family looking on as he half claimed his wife right there on the spot.

 

Riley was misty-eyed and flushed when he finally coerced himself to draw away. Her small hands gripped tightly to his lapel.

 

“Don’t let go,” she whispered just for his ears. She giggled. “I can’t feel my legs.”

 

He grinned wickedly, dropping his face to brush a kiss to her cheek, just close enough to her ear to whisper, “Wait until I get you alone.”

 

She trembled against him in response.

 

“All right now,” Gideon cut in. “Don’t hog her all night.” He yanked Riley out of Octavian’s arms and gave her a fierce hug. “Welcome to the family,
deirfiúr bheag.

 

Riley laughed, squeezing him back. “You guys really need to teach me Irish.”

 

Gideon drew back and tapped her on the nose. “It’s Gaelic, sweetest, and it means little sister.”

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