Merciless Saints (St. Monarch's Academy 1)
It’s only a matter of hours until I claim her.
“I’ll be ready,” Winter answers.
“Good,” I mutter. “Because I’ll drag you to the priest if I have to.” I pull the door shut and walk to the room I’ve taken for myself, so I can get ready. After showering, I put on a black tuxedo.
God only knows how many lives Alexei threatened to make this wedding happen so fast.
When I’m ready, I take a moment to breathe. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply. I’m still adjusting to the sudden change of direction my life took. I was trained to be Carson’s custodian, but that’s no longer my future.
Instead, Winter Hemsley will be mine within the hour.
As I open my eyes, the corner of my mouth lifts. With the thought that I’m going to enjoy taming her wild spirit while taking charge of the diamond smuggling industry, I leave my room.
I find Alexei and Demitri in the dining room, where they’re talking to the priest. The table and chairs have been moved out, and the walls have been covered with Russian religious art.
When my gaze lands on the two traditional crowns set on a side table, the moment becomes real.
“Damien,” Alexei calls me out of my thoughts. I walk closer, and after I’m introduced to the priest, I move to the side of the room with Demitri by my side.
“You’re sure about this alliance?” Demitri murmurs.
I nod as I fold my hands in front of me, my eyes glued to the doorway. “I am.”
“I’ll go get the bride,” Alexei says, and then he walks out.
It’s only then I feel a flutter of excitement.
This is it.
Minutes crawl by before Alexei appears in the doorway, and as he steps inside, it gives me a clear view of Winter.
My lips part as her beauty rips the air from my lungs. Her hair is covered with a lace veil. Slowly she lifts her head, and then our eyes meet. Everything fades until there’s only her.
The white wedding dress hugs her chest and waist before flaring out around her hips. I don’t know what fabric it’s made of, but it’s perfect. It sparkles like a million tiny diamonds.
Demitri nudges my back, and it makes me move forward. Reaching Winter, I hold my forearm out to her, and she places her hand on my arm.
“You look exquisite,” I murmur before I lead her to the priest.
The ceremony begins, and even though it must be foreign to Winter, she keeps up. The priest takes the rings Alexei got us, and holding them in his hand, he makes the sign of the cross. “The servant of God, Damien Vetrov, is betrothed to the handmaid of God, Winter Hemsley, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
Taking the rings from the priest, Winter and I exchange them while vowing ourselves to each other. When I slip the golden band onto her finger, the corner of my mouth twitches.
We’re given candles to hold, and again the priest reads from the scripture. Afterward, he chants a psalm, and then he reaches for the first crown. I press a kiss to the crown and then bow my head. Winter follows my lead as the priest crowns us king and queen of our own kingdom.
“The servants of God, Damien Vetrov and Winter Hemsley are crowned in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
I take hold of Winter’s hand and place it on top of the priest’s, who then leads us around the room as we take our first steps as husband and wife.
The priest removes the crowns while praying and then gives us a final blessing. “On behalf of the church, I wish you both many years of blessings and grace as you delight in your love for one another, a love that finds its source and fulfillment in God Who is love itself.”
It’s done.
Alexei comes to hug me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Congratulations, brother.”
While Alexei moves to Winter, Demitri pulls me into a tight embrace. “You’ve made me proud.”
“Welcome to the family, Winter,” Alexei says, a smile spreading over his face. “Now we drink.”
Turning to Winter, the corner of my mouth lifts. When she raises her chin, and our eyes lock, I murmur, “My wife.”
“Husband.” Hearing the word drift over her lips makes the blood rush through my veins.
I close the distance between us, and wrapping a hand around the back of her neck, I murmur, “It’s tradition to kiss your husband.”
I lower my head, my eyes locked with hers, and then press my mouth to hers.
Now to get through the toast so I can take her up to the bedroom and consummate this marriage.
Chapter 17
WINTER
Damien keeps giving me penetrating stares as if he’s trying to see into my mind. Every time his eyes lock on me, it makes a shiver rush over my body.