Crimson Covenant (Onyx Assassins 1)

“But…I’m human, and Avi told me humans can’t be turned,” she whispered.

I cursed under my breath. Avianna and Lyric’s friendship had been a blessing, but I’d been sorely neglectful when it came to educating Lyric on our species. Then again, when I was alone with her the last thing on my mind was a history lesson.

“Alek?”

“That’s true,” I admitted. “Humans can’t be turned. Werewolves and demons are the only species who begin as something else. Vampires and witches are born, not made. We’re genetic.” Which meant it would be up to Avi to continue our family’s line.

“And you still want this? Still want to marry me? If we can’t be turned, what about kids?”

“Pregnancies between humans and vampires are incredibly rare, but not unheard of.”

“I’m going to get old and wrinkled and fall apart. I’ll forget where the house keys are.” She sniffed.

My heart lurched, but I kept my feet firmly planted where they were. “Lyric, vampires can age if they choose to. I’ve already decided that I will get old right alongside you. I’ll wrinkle as you wrinkle. We’ll have Serge to handle the house keys since it’s not like he lets us open doors, anyway, and when you fall apart, I’ll fall apart with you. You’re all I—”

She flew through the doorway and into my arms.

I caught her easily and crushed her against my chest, careful to keep my hands on the nape of her neck and around her waist so I didn’t undo her hair. “What happened to not seeing the bride on the wedding night?” I took her scent into my lungs and held it there, savoring the burn of thirst and the jolt of need that shot down my spine.

“Maybe that only applies to wedding days,” she answered. “Besides, there’s not much traditional about this, so I’ll take my chances.”

I trailed my hand over the soft silk of her waist—Wait a second.

She wasn’t wearing the traditional white of a human wedding. Her gown fell off her shoulders, leaving that soft skin exposed, then dipped between her breasts, hugged the curve of her waist, then fell to the floor in a voluminous cascade of silk. Crimson silk. The color of blood, of life, and love.

“Do you like it?” she asked, stepping back so I could see the whole picture. “Avi told me it was tradition to wear red. Well, crimson.”

She was completely and utterly breathtaking.

She was mine.

“I like it,” I managed to say, moving forward without thinking. Fuck me, was that a slit at the front of her right leg? We weren’t going to make it to the wedding. We weren’t even going to make it to the bedroom.

She stepped back and put her hand out. “Oh no. Don’t you look at me like that. It took Avianna and a team of other women—”

“Females,” I corrected her gently. “Vampires aren’t women. They’re females.” My smile was slow, but I couldn’t keep it in. “We might need to go over a few things since you’ll be their queen in about five minutes.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What if I get it wrong?”

I took her hand. “The ceremony is easy. Just repeat after me.” My thumb stroked over her mating mark. “You ready?”

She nodded, and I walked her to the ceremony before we skipped the whole damn thing all together.

A few moments later, the ballroom was packed to the brim with nobles and aristocrats, but all I saw was Lyric as she stood across from me, her hands in mine, exchanging the sacred words that would make our mating a legal one in our world.

“I am yours, and you are mine,” I finished loudly enough for the nobles in the back to hear. No one would doubt the legitimacy of this mating. My thumb grazed over the emerald solitaire on her left hand. Some traditions belonged to all species.

“I am yours, and you are mine,” she responded, diamonds and rubies sparkling where they’d been pinned into her hair, which had been swept up into some kind of twisty knot.

I gently turned her wrist to face the crowd. “Who will bear witness to the mark?”

“I will,” Avi stated, stepping forward from the front row and walking past the line of my warriors that stood at the base of the small steps that led to our dais.

“I will.” Lachlan joined her and walked up the steps.

One female and one male.

They both glanced at Lyric’s wrist, then turned to face the crowd. “She bears his mark,” Avianna declared.

“They are mated,” Lachlan finished the ceremony, both returning to their places.

My chest swelled yet somehow tightened at the same time. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. I pulled her against me, then kissed her hard and deep, uncaring that we were in a room full of people. Let them all see that it was my mark on her wrist. My hands on her body. My scent enveloping her.