Magic Binds

EPILOGUE

“WHAT IS IN this flower crown?” Fiona sniffed the air.

“Smells odd, doesn’t it?” Andrea said.

“Good things,” Evdokia told her.

“She will thank us later.” Sienna winked at me.

I stood in a huge tent set up in the Five Hundred Acre wood, while Fiona, Andrea, and Julie put the final touches on my wedding outfit. The night had fallen, the magic was in full swing, and the tent was lit by bright golden globes Roman had found somewhere and set up. The light was warm and cheerful, the tent smelled of honeysuckle, and all my friends were here. For some odd reason I felt completely terrified.

The three witches of the Witch Oracle had come in to bring a flower crown woven of beautiful white flowers that looked like tiny tulips with pointed petals, and never left. Dali had come in for something and never left either. Desandra brought fruit and parked herself in the corner. Adora sat quietly by the entrance. I had a feeling she had decided to guard it. Martina, Ascanio’s mother, was munching on some pastries next to her.

The flap of the tent opened and Martha came in, followed by George.

Behind her Mahon’s voice roared. “I will have cider if I damn well please.”

Martha sighed. “The man is in a wheelchair. He lost half his weight. He’s bald like a cue ball and all he wants is his cider.”

“Let Dad have his cider,” George said. “He earned it.”

“He’ll be sick tonight, mark my words.”

George grinned. “Here, Kate, we brought you a glass of wine. For courage.”

Only three days had passed since the battle. I’d offered to postpone the wedding, but Curran insisted.

Martha walked up to me and patted my cheek. “You look beautiful. That boy has no idea how lucky he is.”

“I’m sorry. We should’ve waited.”

“No.” Something hot and angry flashed in the older woman’s eyes. “Don’t you dare be sorry. That man may have almost taken my husband from me, but he won’t take the joy out of my son’s wedding. We celebrate. That’s what Mahon wants and this is what I want.”

Silence claimed the tent.

“Okay!” George said. “Now that Mom’s done being scary, here is your wine.”

“Red wine?” Fiona squinted at the glass. “Kate, if you spill the wine on yourself, they’ll bury you in this dress.”

“Maybe wine isn’t a good idea,” George said.

It was a great idea. I took the wine and drained the glass.

People giggled. Rowena slipped into the tent and smiled at me.

Julie dabbed my mouth with a napkin. “Now we have to re-lipstick.”

“Will all of you stop?” I growled.

“Shut up,” Andrea said. “We’re not done prettying you up.”

“I’m pretty enough as is.”

“Yes, yes, you are. You are the prettiest. Now hold still so I can fix your lipstick.”

“Try not to pass out,” Desandra said. “I almost passed out at my wedding. Of course, it was a really nasty wedding, but still.”

“What happens if he shows up?” Julie asked.

The tent went silent.

“He won’t,” I said. “But if he does, I’ll deal with it.”

“There.” Andrea stepped away. “Perfect.”

“Does she have all the things?” George asked. “Something old, something new . . .”

“The dress is new,” Fiona said.

“Something blue.” Sienna pointed to a single blue flower in my crown.

“Something old.” I touched the pendant around my neck. Martha smiled at me.

“Something borrowed?” Andrea looked around.

Rowena unclipped a small amber brooch from her dress and clipped it to me. “Here, you can borrow this.”

“Knock, knock,” Ascanio said outside the tent. “Is everybody clothed?”

“Yes,” Martina told him.

“That’s a shame.” He stuck his head in. “Oh, hi, Mom.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Everybody is ready. Also Curran says if you want to elope, there’s still time.”

“She doesn’t want to elope!” Fiona said. “She wants to showcase this dress.”

“Roman says for you to come out and take your seats.”

“Okay, okay, we’re coming.” Desandra got up. “Tell him to keep his black panties on.”

Ascanio squinted at me. “You are gorgeous, Alpha.”

“Go away,” Martina told him.

Everyone filed out of the tent one by one. Only the witches were left.

“The boy is right,” my aunt said next to me. “You make a passable bride. Miracle of miracles.”

“Thanks.”

The three witches stared at Erra by my side. I had taken her to them after the battle. We talked for a while. Plans were made. Curran wouldn’t like them, but sometimes the hardest choice was the right one.

“We’ve talked with our people,” Evdokia said.

“What you suggested is possible,” Sienna said.

“We’ll need a conduit,” Maria added.

“Then find one,” Erra said. “She is already doing enough.”

“It’s easier said than done,” Evdokia said. “That’s an awful lot of power to channel. A mere human won’t do.”

“Is that a yes or a no?” I asked.

“It’s a yes.” Evdokia looked like she was about to cry. “Unless we find another way.”

“There is no other way,” Erra said.

“We could ask the White Warlock,” Sienna said.

The two other women turned to her.

“You’ve lost your mind,” Evdokia said.

“Her? You want to ask that abomination?” Maria looked like she’d spit to the side, then thought better of it.

“She has enough power,” Sienna said.

“Come on.” Evdokia shepherded them out of the tent. “We’ll talk about it later.”

The tent was empty except for me and my aunt. I looked in the mirror. My hair fell loose. The dress clasped my shoulders with white embroidery that shimmered as if made of silver. The breathtakingly patterned gown curved over my breasts, dipping between them lower than I would’ve ever dared, and hugged my waist before sliding over my hips and butt. The shimmering white skirt was all diaphanous layers, so thin that they moved even now at the slightest draft. The dress should’ve been heavy because of the embroidery, but instead it felt and looked so light, as if made of clouds. I looked like a fairy-tale princess.

I turned and walked to the tent flap. Outside a bonfire roared. Between the tent and the flames, tables stood groaning with food and flowers. The rows of chairs were filled with people: the Pack, the Masters of the Dead, Luther and the ifrit hound, the Order, Teddy Jo, Beau and his deputies . . .

Everybody was here. My heart hammered.

At the fire, Roman stood in a black robe etched with silver. Next to him Curran waited. He wore a tuxedo. Jim stood on his right. On the other side, Dali waited. She was my maid of honor.

Curran bent forward and said something to Roman. Roman nodded.

I was getting married. Dear God.

“Is he worth it?” Erra asked.

“Always.”

Music started, sweet and haunting. It was my cue to go on.

The magic was so thick tonight. It was all around me. The flower vines draped on the trees glowed weakly with a magical golden light, mirroring the strings of feylanterns strung above the tables. The woods didn’t look real.

I would walk to the altar and I would get married. But I had to take that first step.

I swallowed and walked out. Everyone fell quiet. Curran turned. His mouth opened. He stared at me, like he’d never seen me before.

Just keep walking.

I reached the altar. A little girl stepped up next to me, holding a ring on a pillow. A little boy stood next to Curran holding an identical pillow with another ring.

My future husband remembered to close his mouth.

Roman was talking. I heard his voice, but I was looking at Curran and he was looking at me.

“Love is a complicated thing,” Roman said. “For some it’s fleeting and fickle. People fall in love fast and then they fall out of it faster than they can blink. For others, it’s a lifelong commitment. It can render you helpless or give you power. It can bring you bliss or misery. But true love, the one that endures through time, love that is pure joy, love that nothing in this world can shatter, that kind of love is rare. The two people standing before me today have it. They fought for it, they endured for it, and they earned it. Tonight we are privileged to celebrate their love with them.”

Curran was grinning. I grinned back.

“Repeat after me,” Roman said. “I, Curran Lennart . . .”

“I, Curran Lennart,” Curran said, “take you, Kate Daniels, to be my friend, my lover, the mother of my children, and my wife. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, in failure and in triumph. I promise to love no other, to cherish and respect you, to care for you and protect you, and stay with you, for all eternity.”

I held out my hand and he slipped a ring on my finger.

“Your turn,” Roman told me. “I, Kate Daniels . . .”

“I, Kate Daniels, take you, Curran Lennart, to be my friend, my lover, the father of my children, and my husband. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, in failure and in triumph. I promise to love no other, to cherish and respect you, to care for you and protect you, and stay with you, for all eternity.”

I took the ring from the pillow and slid it on his finger.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Roman said. “May your life be rich in blessings and poor in misfortunes. May you see your children’s children grow up and make you proud. May your fights be short, your laughter loud, and your passion hot. May you live long and die happy. You may now kiss each other.”

Curran reached for me. I kissed him and the world faded.

We broke apart, turned, and I saw my father standing behind the tables, wrapped in his cloak. He smiled at me and vanished.

Roman waved his arm and a murder of crows shot out of the forest, flew above our heads and up into the sky.

“I don’t do doves,” Roman said.

Then there was cake and toasts and gifts. We jumped over the Ivan Kupala bonfire. The party got loud, then louder. People laughed. Wine flowed. We danced, and then everyone danced. The Pack danced, the People applauded.

Curran wrapped his hands around me. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Come with me. I have to tell you something.”

I followed him behind the tent. “What is it?”

He picked me up and took off into the woods. I laughed and wrapped my arms around him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m kidnapping my wife.”

We shot through the woods. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Yes.”

He turned and stopped. We were under a massive tree. To the right the narrow brook gurgled its way through the forest. A blanket waited under the tree next to a cooler.

“You planned this.”

“Yes, I did.” He knelt on the blanket, still holding me. “You look . . . You look.”

I cracked up.

“And whatever the hell that scent is from those flowers is driving me crazy.” He took my crown off and looked at me. “Nope. Not the flowers.”

I kissed him, tasting him, teasing his tongue, and he kissed me back, eager and tender. The kiss turned possessive, and when I came up for air, I wanted all my clothes off.

“I finally caught you,” he said. “You can’t get away now. I love you, Kate Lennart.”

“I love you too, Curran Lennart,” I whispered, and kissed him, enjoying every delicious moment. “For all eternity.”

MARRIED LIFE WASN’T much different than single life, I decided, reaching for the stove. It had been two weeks since our wedding. Things were almost back to normal. There were still breakfasts to be made and bacon to be cooked. Atlanta was slowly picking up the pieces.

The Pack had lost sixty-two shapeshifters. Nineteen were younger than twenty. The Jackal alpha became a widower. Desandra lost her beta. Clan Nimble’s alpha pair mourned their oldest daughter. Both of Barabas’s legs were broken when a magical bull knocked him off his feet and then trampled him. Christopher had a full-on nervous breakdown and almost leveled what remained of the Keep’s wall before Doolittle managed to convince him that Barabas wouldn’t die. The wall was now being rebuilt.

Two knights of the Order and four mercs didn’t come back from the battlefield. My father’s chariot had been stripped and dismantled. The golden panels turned out to be real gold, which was completely unsurprising, knowing my father. The surviving mercs claimed it as spoils of war, and the Guild had made a fortune off it. We’d have no shortage of volunteers for the next battle.

A quarter of the Casino’s vampires were destroyed. Oddly, Ghastek didn’t seem concerned about it. He had this strange smile on his face when I talked to him about it. After I was done, he’d leaned toward me and said, “He fled.” I had a feeling that was all he cared about. Just when I thought I had Ghastek all figured out, he threw me a curveball. But he was right. No matter what we did or said, one inescapable fact remained. We had beaten my father. We won the battle. We didn’t win the war. The war was still coming. But we had beaten him this time. He lost.

I opened the oven. The smell of cooked bacon hit me. Mayday. I charged across the kitchen into the bathroom and threw up.

Oh no.

I cradled my stomach, reaching with my magic, gently, softly, and felt a tiny spark.

“Kate?” Curran said outside the door. “Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah. I’ll be a minute.”

I washed my mouth, splashed cold water on my face, and opened the door.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I’m pregnant,” I said.