Twisted Together - Winters Pepper (онлайн книга без txt) 📗

I held no posies or veil over my face. The dress was all the embellishing I needed—that and the ‘Q’ branded into my neck.

I focused inward, thinking about the crescent moon. I’d known Q was in danger. I’d known and stupidly believed he was strong enough, protected enough, to stay safe. I hadn’t planned on him playing roulette with his life. Or sacrificing himself for me.

He would’ve died protecting me. And although it was romantic to have that sort of power, it was a huge responsibility.

“You okay?” Suzette squeezed my arm.

Her touch wrenched me from my thoughts. “Yes, sorry.”

I held my hand out, admiring my wing-inspired ring. After everything we’d been through, I hadn’t had time to buy Q a ring. “I’ve failed in the only job I had for this wedding.”

Suzette glanced at my ring.

“I didn’t get him one. What can I put on his finger after our vows?”

Nothing. You’ll have to wait till you’re home.

We turned a corner, leaving the density of the palm trees to find a large white marquee, resting on the sands edge. The waves looked like turquoise glass, smacking gently onto sand—a silky ripple.

“Stop worrying. I have everything under control.” Suzette grinned. “All you need to worry about is not tripping up the aisle.”

We stopped outside the marquee. Two men in white uniforms smiled, pulling back the flaps of the venue.

“Ready to go to him?” Suzette whispered as we drifted forward, trading island sun for cool shadows. The tented world welcomed, hushing our footsteps. Tears glossed my eyes, imprinting the rapturous beauty.

“Suzette—” My red glitter high-heels wedged into the softness of the carpet, jerking us to a stop. “You did all this? It’s incredible.”

“You deserved a bit of paradise. I’m glad you like it.”

I couldn’t take it in. Too picturesque. Too perfect. The space was large, housing a row of five or six black chairs. Most were unoccupied, waiting for their owners who were part of the ceremony. It was small, intimate. Not that I’d expected crowds—or that Q would permit it.

The walls were covered with white satin drapery, making it seem like we’d stepped into a cloud. The ceiling held bolts of ivory fabric, swooping low, creating intimacy.

I’ll never forget this.

Then my eyes landed on him.

And the room paled entirely. I no longer cared about drapery or flowers. All I cared about was him. The man I was destined for.

My master. Husband. Lover. Protector.

My heart was never mine. It was his along. I’d been the guardian. Now he’d claimed it.

Him.

Q stood at the top of the aisle flanked by Franco and Frederick; the two groomsman wore matching grey suits, mirroring Suzette’s dress.

Q on the other hand wore white. His dark hair had been styled into the same pelt-like cut I remembered. His body stood proud and majestic, sheathed in a white blazer, waistcoat, and trousers. The only splash of darkness was a black tie. He looked incredible. He looked too much—too priceless to be real.

The moment our eyes met I felt faint, delirious.

He’s mine. I’m his.

I wanted to fly up the aisle and imprison him in my arms. From here he didn’t look hurt. From here he looked strong and savage—ready to kill or conduct a quiet business affair. He bordered the line of aggression so effortlessly.

His gaze stayed transfixed on me, his face locked into an unreadable mask.

Then the music changed.

It echoed with haunting bass notes, sorrowful flutes, and empowering chords.

A woman I didn’t know stood off to the side. Her polished ebony hair fell in heavy sheets over her shoulders, threaded with silver feathers. Her dark eyes assessed me, an appraising—almost haughty look—on her face. Her dress was grey too, shorter, fuller around her calves and detailed with pearl buttons on the bodice.

A smile transformed her coolness with warmth. Bowing her head, she raised a microphone to her lips and began to sing.

It was as if her voice carried every weapon imaginable—destroying me all at once. I knew her voice. Her passion, the rasp, the melancholy hope.

I shivered as the lyrics drilled their way into my heart.

I have no more need to hide—not now that I have you

I once had a loveless life—but now I’m falling true

You waltzed into my world—making me turn tame

You turned my wickedness into trust even without your name

The verse was about us—sang by the woman who’d recorded Q’s other songs—the same songs he’d played when I first arrived—the haunting melodies encouraging me to find the true Q—to hunt for the monster within.

The full circle on finally understanding his favourite artist stole strength from my legs.

Ever since I’d met Q, I’d been pulled deeper into darkness. I’d willingly embraced everything he’d given and would never be free.

I never want to be free.

“Let’s go,” Suzette whispered, tugging me forward, guiding me one step at a time. The humid island air glimmered with awareness. I never unlocked gazes with Q.

The sand beneath the carpet unsettled my footing, but my heart knew where to go. Every step was scary and foreign and unknown but at the same time joyous and perfect and right.

Q held out his hand, summoning me to him. His intense pale gaze sliced through my dress, leaving me completely exposed. My nipples stiffened as my belly quickened.

Images of him hanging beaten and bloody snatched me from white perfection. I squeezed my eyes against the horribleness.

He almost died.

I almost lost him.

My chest rose, sucking in a calming breath. But I hadn’t lost him. He was here, waiting for me. Wanting to marry me.

My heart jangled. Will I hate myself for what I did to Lynx?

I waited for comeuppance.

I waited for guilt.

But all I felt was justified.

Shot, cut, electrocuted, and drowned, Q loved me so much he’d cheated death. He’d dressed a body that should be resting and stood atop an aisle where I would give him my heart.

Go to him. Be his medicine.

My pace increased. Suzette had no choice but to glide with me, quicker, quicker.

Q’s eyes warmed the closer I came. His face held shadows of bruises, his lips thinned against aches and stitches.

You can be vulnerable with me.

He stood taller, understanding my message.

I can relax with you in my arms. His eyes transmitted the thought powerfully.

The woman kept singing.

Everything horrible is now locked with gates

All our demons are exorcized

You are my sinner; my undisclosed master of my fate

Please me, and I’ll treat you fine

Tease me, and I’ll show you, you are mine

I never deviated or looked at the small number of guests. Every step they judged me—searching for any flaw that was undeserving of Q.

But they wouldn’t find me wanting. I’d earned my place by his side. I’d grown up. I’d embraced myself completely. And I had nothing left to fear—everything I’d done and endured lived in my eyes for the world to see—telling my story.

But only Q had the decryption.

Only he knew what I’d done. Only he knew who I’d become. And only he knew my sins. Just like I knew his.

Acceptance. Love. Commitment.

They were the perfect sins. Sins I would commit for the rest of my life.

You are the one for me, my monster in the dark

You are the perfect mate for me, wicked and unmarked

Together we cannot be denied, our undeniable spark

Together we will find our perfect evolving never ending arc

My breathing turned from low and deep to shallow and bird-quick. The aisle came to an end. Suzette squeezed my elbow. “Go marry your monster.” Letting go, she pushed me gently.