Page 12 of Obsidian Throne

Then it was my turn. The magistrate gave me my vows in the Common Tongue, and I could practically feel the judgment emanating from the room.

So I gave them back in the flawless Socairan I had been practicing every day since Evander left Lochlann.

Well, most of it was flawless. I did stumble over one word, but it wasn’t the pronunciation that tripped me up. It was the translation.Obeyhad not been removed from these wedding vows, as it had ours in Lochlann.

Evander’s eyebrows rose, and his eyes filled with pride, even as he fought back a smile at my obvious dislike of that part of the vows.

Sadly, there were no kisses in Socairan weddings, probably because they were all hopeless prudes. Wedding rings were also not a part of ceremonies here, though we were both already wearing ours.

After the vows, the magistrate gave his official pronouncement about us being husband and wife, along with a pronouncement that I was now afforded the honor and protection of a clan wife.

With that, Evander and I turned to face the room. Distantly, I noted that everyone in the room was holding a drink.

In spite of the crowd of people, faces both familiar and not, it wasIiro who caught my gaze. He sat in a seat of honor at the front of the room. His hazel eyes were so like his brother’s, though they held none of the warmth.

I gave him a shallow nod, and he raised his chalice ever so slightly in salute. On the surface, it was a simple gesture, a congratulations.

But the pressure on my spine intensified, and I knew it was more than that.

It was a warning.

A threat.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ROWAN

We were escorted to a small room off the grand hall, a space designed to give the couple a moment to collect themselves while the guests were settled in the ballroom.

Evander guided me in with a single hand on my bare lower back. He didn’t look down at me at all, just stared straight ahead, his footsteps measured and his expression aloof.

A guard opened the door for us, and I stepped inside first. I took a single glance around the room, long enough to take in the small couch and the table next to it, already set with two glasses of wine.

Then the door shut behind us, and Evander’s hands were on my waist, spinning me around to face him. There was nothing distant in his features now.

His eyes were burning with a deep-seated need that matched my own. He picked me up, pressing me against the black, wooden door and leaning in to support my weight with his solid, muscled body.

He buried his face into my neck, peppering kisses along each bare inch of skin he could find.

“How long do we have in here?” I gasped the words with what little breath I could find.

He chuckled against my skin, sending tendrils of fire flickering through every part of me. “Not long enough.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” It also explained why he was avoiding my face and all the carefully applied cosmetics, which I appreciated, even if all I wanted to do was feel his perfect lips on mine.

Though, this wasn’t a bad consolation.

“Der’mo,” he murmured into my ear. “I missed you, Lemmikki.”

“I missed you, too.” My voice was still breathless. “No more plans like that.”

“It worked,” he argued, not stopping in his ministrations.

It wasn’t the answer I was looking for, but we had already fought on our first wedding night. We could argue about this later.

Still, as usual, he read into my silence. He pulled back to look at my face, though he didn’t set me down, didn’t stop his hands from where they traced maddening patterns along the bare sides of my ribcage.

“You’re here,” he reminded me. “Safe. And now, with the protection of a clan wife. Even Iiro wouldn’t risk his tenuous position thwarting one of our most sacred laws.” Those last three words dripped with sarcasm.