Crimson Covenant (Onyx Assassins 1)

I scooted across the bed, tucking up against his chest, never losing his gaze as I laid my palm over his cheek. “Yes, Alek,” I said, ensuring he heard the clarity in my tone. “I would be honored to spend the rest of my forever with you.”

9

Alek

The members of Conclave stared at me with wide eyes, and in the case of Patrick—the leader of the Human Consortium—a slackened jaw. The chamber beneath the opera house had fallen quiet enough to hear the Witch Queen, Genevieve, swallow.

Lachlan tensed at the left side of my chair while Benedict slowly surveyed the room at my right, his forearms bare and waiting for the first lie.

“Let me get this right.” Luka leaned forward slightly, as did his two werewolf attendants. Surprisingly, he didn’t break the arms of the chair with his mass. “You have mated with a human?”

“I have. We marry tonight, but I knew you needed to be informed first, so there was no confusion that Lyric carries my immunity from…” My gaze shifted to Xavier, who sat lounged in his chair as though this was all beneath him. “Any other claim.”

“You’re marrying her tonight?” Genevieve’s eyebrows rose slightly, but that was the only sign of surprise she’d ever show.

“In a matter of hours.” It would have been yesterday if Avi hadn’t thrown a fit about a piece of clothing, but I could hardly argue with my sister over Lyric’s dress. I would have married the woman in a pair of jeans, but apparently, that was out of the question.

“And we’re not invited?” A corner of Xavier’s mouth lifted into a smirk, but there was nothing welcoming in those sharp eyes.

“Are you going to dispute her immunity?” I asked slowly. Every muscle in my body stilled, waiting for his response.

“Are you willing to give up your crown and submit to your sister’s judgment?” he countered. “Inter-species unions are forbidden.”

“She’s human. That law doesn’t apply.” I shifted subtly, readying my body for attack. “She was interviewed by the Consortium yesterday, and they found no coercion.”

“She’s more than willing,” Patrick agreed, nodding his head.

“He’s not lying,” Benedict whispered so softly only Lachlan and I could hear.

“And besides,” I leaned forward slightly. “This isn’t a union. It’s a mating, and a law unto itself. The bond will not be denied.”

Luka grunted.

Xavier studied me carefully as intense seconds clicked by. Finally, he shrugged. “Fine. The demons recognize her immunity and will not claim our right to her life.”

Everyone in the room sighed with relief—everyone but me because I knew the other shoe would drop at any second.

“But you owe me a favor, Vampire.” Fire flashed in the depths of his eyes. “A favor to be named at a later time.”

“It is done.” I nodded once. He could have whatever he wanted—including my very life—if it meant sparing Lyric.

Lachlan muttered a curse under his breath.

“Since we’ve already heard this month’s cases, I hereby adjourn this Conclave.” I stood, buttoning my suit coat, and the others followed. There was no waiting to exchange the usual pleasantries that kept up friendly relations between the species—I had a wedding to get to.

“Just wait right here.” Avianna gestured toward the wall outside her bedroom. I rolled my eyes but obliged her, my shoulder brushing up against the thick door frame.

“This is ridiculous.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Human traditions of not seeing the bride before the wedding are superstitious nonsense.”

“Well, you’re the one marrying a human, so…” Avi lifted her shoulders and scrunched her nose, already dressed for the ceremony which was supposed to begin in fifteen—scratch that—thirteen minutes.

I let my glare speak for itself.

“I’ll just go get your bride.” She lifted a gloved hand in mock salute and opened her bedroom door, disappearing inside…which was exactly where I wanted to be.

Fuck. I leaned my head back against the wall and nearly groaned. I could smell Lyric from here. After tonight I wouldn’t have to keep my distance.

“Alek?” Lyric’s voice came through the doorway, and I felt a small thud against the wall that let me know she’d mirrored my position on the other side.

“You getting cold toes?” I asked.

“Feet,” she corrected me with a small laugh. “And no. I just wanted to ask you a question.”

The tension in her voice put me on high alert. “What is it?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Her voice broke on that last word, and my head snapped to the right, toward the open door.

You can’t go in there. If you respect her, you have to respect her traditions.

“Of course, I’m sure. I don’t do anything I don’t want to. Now tell me what’s going on in your head, Lyric.” Four centuries in this world, and my self-control was about to be broken in half by that little hiccup I heard her make.