34
Lyon hadn’t expected to be nervous. He and Kira were already married, and he was no blushing schoolboy.
But standing at the end of the aisle as the quartet began playing Massenet’s Méditation, his stomach lifted like a flock of birds taking flight.
Alek smiled at him from the front row — he and Kira had opted to keep the ceremony simple with no bridal party — and Lyon took a deep breath.
Then Kira came into view at the end of the aisle, a vision in a dress he’d never seen, and everything stilled inside him.
She was the calm at the center of his storm, now and forever.
She smiled as she came toward him, their friends sighing with delight as they got a better look at the dress, which gave glimpses of her pale skin beneath a net of diamonds on top and fell to an artful drape over her hips and legs.
Her hair was braided in a long plait, tendrils escaping around her face, and he couldn’t help thinking how different she looked compared to their first wedding. She’d appeared almost severe then, and he marveled that the softness she’d excavated in him could also be more evident in herself.
In the biggest miracle of all, they’d softened each other.
She came to a stop in front of him and took his hands, favoring him with a secret smile that brought to mind not only the new commitment they were making, but their hours in bed the night before, when she’d followed his every order and been rewarded with repeated orgasms.
The music stopped and the chaplain began the ceremony in a drone Lyon barely heard. He could only see Kira, could only think of this new beginning, of their child growing inside her that would bind them forever.
Then it was time for him to speak, and he removed a small piece of folded paper from his pocket and looked in her eyes, glad he’d taken the time to (mostly) memorize his vows.
“The last time we did this, we didn’t have anything to say to each other,” he began. “That’s because we didn’t know each other. Not at all really. But after spending these past few months with you, after laughing with you and fighting with you — there has been quite a lot of fighting, now that I think about it…” A murmur of laughter rolled through the crowd in attendance. “After all of that, I look back on those first vows we made and realize there was an important word missing. That word was love.”
Her eyes shone, and his own chest tightened as he continued.
“I didn’t think anything of it then, probably because I didn’t know a thing about it. I didn’t know it could change me, that it could both soften me and make me stronger. But I do now, and I know that because of you, Kira.” He tucked the piece of paper back in his pocket, took both her hands in his, and looked into her eyes. “So today I’m going to promise something different than I promised back then. Not just my loyalty, which of course, you have, but love. I vow to love you, Kira Baranov Antonov, and to protect you like the jewel you are — as much as you’ll allow it — until the day I die.”
She laughed along with everyone else, and a tear trickled down her cheek.
She leaned in to kiss him, surprising the chaplain, who looked offended that she’d broken protocol, and Lyon wiped the tear from her cheek.
When she’d composed herself, she began talking.
“Lyonya Antonov, I never liked you.” Lyon grinned as the crowd laughed uproariously. She was wonderful. She was perfect. “I think everyone here will agree that you are stubborn and brash and entirely too confident. It’s a testament to that word you used — love — that those have come to be all the things I enjoy most about you. I know when we argue — which is admittedly often — you’ll always believe you are right until you finally agree that I have a point, and I know you will try to protect me from the world like a piece of glass even when I don’t wish it.”
“Try and stop me,” he growled.
She smiled knowingly. “I know you will always walk into the room like you own it, and I know that by the time you leave that room, you will. I know you will treat our family,” she turned to look at the people in attendance, and admiration swelled in Lyon’s chest, “this family and the one we’ll create together, with compassion and respect.” She took a deep breath. “Most of all, I know you will love me like no one else could ever love me, because you’re the Lion, and whatever you’ve been told, whatever you believed about yourself before now, you have a lion’s heart and capacity to love. That you allow me to love you in return is the greatest gift of my life.”
He forced himself to swallow the emotion lodged in his throat, to blink back the sting of tears. She’d assured him dozens of times that she hadn’t meant what she’d said in her letter when she’d left Chicago, but these were things she’d never said to him, and he was moved beyond measure that she sought to quell his most secret fears.
The chaplain instructed them to exchange rings, which they did without further proclamation.
They’d said everything that needed to be said.
The chaplain began wrapping up the service, but Lyon was hardly listening. All he cared about was the woman in front of him, being worthy of her faith in him, delivering on the promises he’d made to love and protect her.
And then, just as the chaplain pronounced them husband and wife, Lyon heard a pop from the woods behind the house that chilled his blood.
The crowd froze, and a moment later more gunfire came from beyond the trees. One of the guards tasked with securing the perimeter turned toward the sound and dropped to the ground as a multitude of black-clad figures emerged from the woods.
Lyon threw himself at Kira. “Get down!”