Wheeler (Seattle Sharks 8)

She straightened her shoulders and reached behind her blindly for the microphone, keeping her eyes locked on mine. Pepper handed it over.

“We’re engaged!” she squealed into the microphone, her joy radiating off her like a tangible thing.

Oh yeah, that was the crowd screaming.

And those were my lips on hers.

And that was Eric clapping me on my back.

“Endgame,” I whispered.

“Yes, my king,” she answered. “My fiancé.”

I grinned and kissed her one more time as I skated over to the open door. Then I set her down and brushed my lips against her ear. “Fiancé for now.”

“For now,” she agreed, brushing her hand over my face.

Then I went back out on the ice and won the game. It was nice, sure, but it didn’t matter.

I’d already won at my life.

Epilogue

Faith

The Following July

“I can’t believe you agreed to this,” I said, smiling up at my brother.

He wore a custom suit of black and royal blue, crafted by Lukas’s personal tailor.

“You know my love for you k

nows no bounds,” Eric said, his long red hair secured with a leather tie. “But did you have to tell the guys my official title was maid of honor?”

I chuckled. “I had thought about asking Pepper or Ivy or Harper, but I couldn’t let Lukas steal you as the best man. You were my brother first.”

Eric smiled. “The girls look beautiful as part of the bridal party anyway. I want to be by your side.”

My heart swelled, and I checked my makeup for the millionth time. Nothing too dramatic—a fresh face, a light pink dusting on my cheeks, rose on my lips, and a swipe or two of mascara. For once, my unruly curls looked elegant and soft, tamed by Ivy herself not an hour ago, and fastened half-up-half-down through the diamond-encrusted tiara Lukas purchased just for this occasion—for my queen, he’d said.

Warm shivers danced over my skin, my arms and shoulders bare, the rest of me covered in yards of white silk—also custom made by Lukas’ tailor.

“I’m happy Dad was able to make the flight without any complications,” I said, knowing he waited just outside to walk me down the aisle. He’d had a heart attack over two years ago, and even though he was healthy, I constantly worried about him.

“Me too,” Eric said. “He and Mom are excited to stick around here for a couple of weeks. Lukas is letting them use his house.”

“I know,” I said, trying not to swoon.

How did I get so lucky?

How was I the one who got to live this life with Lukas?

“Are the Sharks behaving out there?” I asked, fiddling with the skirts of my dress.

“I’m sure they haven’t destroyed anything yet,” he said, glancing toward the closed door of the massive dressing room we’d occupied all morning. Lukas had reserved an entire venue, filling each room with his closest brothers from the Sharks, plus his family and mine, and Harper and Sawyer, too. The place was elegant, enchanting, and sat on fifty acres of Sweden’s finest greenery. It was like stepping back in time, something so perfect for my straight-out-of-a-paranormal-novel Nordic god of a fiancé.

“You never know when you pack all of you in a room together,” I said, my fingers clenching and unclenching the silken fabric.

“Nah,” Eric said. “We all know Lukas would deny us the open bar at the reception if we mess anything up on his big day.” He laughed. “He’s a bigger diva than you.”

I laughed but smacked his hard chest just the same.

“I hope everyone likes the food at the reception. Lukas picked an amazing caterer—”

“Faith?” Eric stepped closer to me, and I glanced up at him.

“Yeah?”

“You’re stalling.”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing against my chest.

“You say the word, and I’ll get you out of here. I already have a car parked outside, ready to take off at a moment’s notice. No questions asked.”

I gaped at him, a simmer in my blood. I punched him this time, and he rubbed the hurt on his shoulder. “I would never. I love Lukas—”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Eric challenged, and I clamped my mouth shut.

I straightened my spine, smiling. “You’re right,” I said, eyeing the door. “I’m done waiting.”

Exhilaration stormed my body as we took those careful steps through the doors. My father pushed off the wall where he’d been leaning, waiting on me. The nerves of becoming Lukas’s wife disappeared as I linked my elbow with my father’s, glancing back at Eric who fell in line behind us, Pepper on his arm in a beautiful gown of royal blue that matched Eric’s dress shirt. Ivy wore an identical gown, Connor looking stunning on her arm. Hudson and Shea looked incredible as well, and so did Harper, who was walking with Noble.

I took a deep breath, smiled at my daddy, and nodded.

He patted my arm and walked us through the French doors that led to the ballroom that had been converted into my dream wedding setting. Rows of golden chairs were filled with all the people we loved, and bows of gossamer draped down the aisles. Orchids and Gardenias hung in evenly spaced sections on the walls, separated by candelabras flickering with half-melted white candles.

And at the end of the aisle…

Lukas.

Clad in a slick suit, looking as royal and divine as ever.

His glacial blue eyes locked on mine and never let me go as I walked, one step, then another, until I was there, and my father was shaking Lukas’s hand before taking his place at the seat Mom reserved for him in the front row.

Hudson stopped to stand at Lukas’s right—directly behind Axel— and gave me a small smile as I stopped in front of my soon-to-be husband. The rest of the guys fell in line behind Hudson, creating a supportive line of well-muscled men.

Lukas took my hands, a delicious smile on his lips. His eyes flickered, love and desire churning, and we didn’t stop looking at each other until the priest had told us to kiss to make our marriage official.

Lukas snaked an arm around my waist, effortlessly pulling my body to his, and he kissed me like no one was watching.

Heat flushed my skin, my entire being buzzing with the taste of him. And when the priest declared us husband and wife I swore my soul blazed with Lukas’s brand. Bound together, forever.

“My queen,” he whispered in my ear as our friends and family clapped.

I smiled up at him, taking a breath before uttering the word I’d practiced for days to perfect.

“Älskling,” I said, and relished the way Lukas shuddered, fire behind his eyes.

“You practiced,” he said, smoothing his fingers over my cheek.

“The way you Swedes shape your tongue… difficult, but not impossible.”

He smirked, intertwined our fingers, and tugged me down the aisle. “We have twenty minutes before the reception,” he said, walking faster. “Let me show you just what this Swede’s tongue can do, Mrs. Vestergaard.”

“Only if you bend the knee, Mr. Vestergaard,” I teased.

“Wicked, beautiful queen.” He whisked us through the French doors, and back to my dressing room where we were supposed to change for the reception. “How I’ll delight in serving you for eternity.”

A warm thrill shot through my middle, to the depths of my soul.

“Eternity,” I echoed. Not forever, or always, but eternity. My husband, such a romantic. “I’ve never heard a more perfect word.”

THE END