The Consequence (The Evolution of Sin 3)

“You look like a dream,” Sebastian whispered as he took my arm, gently tucking it into his.

“Seb, you’re crying,” I noticed, shocked.

We hadn’t had an easy childhood, one filled with violence or at least, the threat of it, poverty and fear. Through none of it had my brother -- the man of our house since the tender age of seventeen but really, the true patriarch long before our father disappeared -- cried.

His smile reminded me that he was a movie star before his words even registered. “I’m an actor, Giselle. I’m man enough to cry and I’m damn pretty when I do it.”

I laughed, the tension that I hadn’t been aware of drained from my shoulders.

“I love you,” I reaffirmed.

“Sempre,” he confirmed. Forever. “Now, are you ready to become a Sinclair?”

I squeezed his arm and dragged him forward in answer, startling a laugh from him. Sinclair’s eyes were on me, had been tracking every one of my movements since I appeared on the horizon, but I took a moment to check out the guests lining the aisle because I knew once I locked eyes with my Frenchman, he would be all I saw.

Cage grinned hugely at me, his arms crossed over his huge chest in a smug way that told me he thought he had played a vital role in bringing Sin and I together. I tipped my head to him, acknowledging the truth of it.

Dante was there too, bigger even than Cage but not as imposing as the man that stood beside him. I recognized Alexander Davenport and as I watched him watching Cosima instead of me, his eyes trained on her with a degree of possession and dark desire that was uncivilized, I knew that he was the reason for her disappearance, that she wouldn’t have been allowed here without his permission and, apparently, his presence.

The Percys both smiled at me, Mortimer’s was wide and uncensored with pleasure and Willa’s was appropriately bashful. She had tried to derail our union at every turn but now that it was happening, now that I was carrying her grandchild, she had whole-heartedly embraced me.

My Mexico crew, including, even, Margot and Antonio, all clapped as I passed, making me blush even as their approval filled me with joy.

I was ready to look at Sinclair but his cool French tinted tones beat me to it.

“Look at your future husband, ma sirene.”

His words hooked my gaze and drew it directly to his. The blue of his eyes consumed me for a long moment. I would never find the right words to describe the vividness of the color, the shape of his lids or the beauty of his russet lashes, let alone the ones needed to explain the look in his eyes at the moment. Worshipful was the word that came closest to the swirl of love, possession, awe and gratefulness that seized him. I recognized it only because I could feel the very same thing sluice through my veins.

Inappropriately, I wanted to get on my knees before him and show him how much he was revered with my lips, teeth and tongue, with long strokes of my fingers and sharp exclamations from my nails.

Sin’s eyes flashed as the recognized the dirty path to my thoughts.

Later, he mouthed through the wicked smile pulling his lips wide.

My brother pressed a kiss to my cheek and carefully, appreciating the symbolism of it, placed my hand in Sinclair’s.

“I’ve cared for her my entire life,” Seb said, half benediction, half warning.

Sinclair surprised me by stepping closer, clapping a manly hand over Seb’s shoulder. “You’ve done so well, mio fratello. Rest easy now, I have her.”

Seb closed his eyes, swallowed thickly and nodded. “Si, tu sei la sua.”

Thank God for waterproof make up because I was crying.

Sinclair smiled brilliantly as my brother stepped away and he turned to me fully. I laughed when he tugged me indecently close, our hips flush, one of his large hands at my hips and the other on my cheek, fingertips in the hair over my ear. His eyes bored into mine even when he said to the officiate, “You may begin.”

I cried throughout the vows but happily, they were silent tears and when Sin dipped his finger in one that streaked across my face, bringing it to his mouth where he licked it away with sparkling eyes, I knew that he didn’t mind. His voice was hoarse when he declared ‘I do’ and when the officiator began to say that Sin could kiss his bride, his hands clenched and unclenched on my skin in restless anticipation.

Finally, he hauled me tight against his body, his arm an iron band across my back and the other tightly woven in my hair so that he could angle my head to seal his mouth completely over mine. I moaned into the kiss, sucking at his velvety tongue as it dipped between my lips. Desire rocketed through me, heady like a drug rush and just as inappropriate to be experiencing at a wedding.