Tragic King (The Dominant Bastard Duology 2)

“Wait!” Sage shouted.

The officiant stopped and looked at the girl.

Minnow turned. “Yes, Sage?”

“I...I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Minnow asked.

“Not now,” Ilse whispered to her eldest daughter, making a shooing motion. “You can give it to them later. Just sit.”

“This can’t wait!”

“It doesn’t have to wait,” Minnow urged. It wasn’t like they were on a strict timeline.

Sage popped up out of her chair and bolted back the way they’d come, around the trees toward the house. Minnow could hear her hollering, and then she was running back. She took her spot beside Scarlet and held up a finger for Minnow to wait. Everyone watched her, confused.

Motion caught Minnow’s eye.

And then there he was.

Severin stood just outside of the circle of guests, having materialized out of nowhere. Wild-eyed and intense. Ready to fight or bolt. A feral thing being intruded on by civilization.

“I picked his clothes,” Sage whispered.

In old jeans and a threadbare black T-shirt, hair loose down his back, he looked like he was about to pillage the festivities rather than participate.

Straightening his shoulders, his lips drew back in a mocking smile, both menacing and mean.

Rodrigo moved between Minnow and Severin, cutting him off from her as he approached. Someone gasped. Probably Talia, the poor woman.

“What do you want, Leduc?” Rodrigo asked, belligerent, as if he was ready to fight him for her.

Minnow’s heart was hammering at her ribs, and she felt a bit faint.

He cocked his head, trying to stare Rodrigo down, but Ro wasn’t having it. “You know what I want.”

“I do know what you want, you stubborn asshat, but do you?”

He eyed Rodrigo, then Minnow, his cold blue eyes grim. “All three of you,” he said quietly. “If you’ll have me.”

A sob broke from Minnow’s throat before she could stifle it. Time slowed as Rodrigo nodded and retreated a step, getting out of his way.

Had she heard him right, though?

The officiant was looking over Severin’s shoulder, as though maybe a ringmaster might show up at any moment.

“Three?” Rodrigo’s brother, Fidel, asked someone.

“Oh my god!” Mayte shrieked.

Church clapped his hands together loudly and began to laugh, his big voice booming through the clearing.

Rodrigo’s mother jumped up out of her seat, saying something in enthusiastic Spanish, then hugged Minnow so long Ro had to pry her off and usher her back to her seat.

When the commotion had calmed, the three of them stood in a line in front of the officiant, Severin on Minnow’s left, and Rodrigo on her right. They rested their linked hands on her back and she stood there, crying, not processing half of what the officiant was saying. None of that mattered anyway. Severin had chosen them.

For now.