Twisted Together

Chapter Fifteen

My salvation

My together

Q left me when dawn arrived.

Kissing my temple, he clambered sorely out of bed. “See you in a few hours, esclave.”

I held onto his wrist, not wanting him to go. I couldn’t understand why one moment I was giddy with joy thinking of what today meant for us, then I wanted to throw up. I was nervous, excited, happy, freaking out.

“You promise you’ll be waiting for me?” I didn’t understand my sudden insecurities. It just seemed like everything I’d ever wanted existed in a future I daren’t grasp. I didn’t want to think how close to perfection we were just in case it turned out to be fate’s cruel joke.

Q bent over, his eyes tightening with pain thanks to his blue and black body. He stood naked, wearing his wounds with pride. The bandages on his legs stained with pinpricks of blood. “I’ll be the one sweating at the top of the aisle hoping to hell you haven’t changed your mind. Je vais t’épouser aujourd'hui, Tess. Pas de fuite.” I'm marrying you today, Tess. No running.

My heart strummed. Before I could reply, he left, walking his fine butt out of my room. My eyes trailed after him, landing on his bruises. My stomach heaved with anger.

Killing Lynx wasn’t enough for what Q endured. I loved Q more than life itself and I’d finally proven I deserved him. I’d accepted the feral part of myself and survived. I suffered no remorse, none. And I would do it all again if I had to.

Q disappeared down the corridor. The next time I see him he’ll be mine for eternity.

He’d be my husband.

The nerves in my stomach switched to sublime happiness. Unstifled joy sprang me upward, hurling me out of bed to meet my future.

I spent thirty minutes in the shower, giving myself no time restrictions to shave, primp, and prepare. The luxury of enjoying my own company with no dark thoughts ruining my happiness was priceless. I’d forgotten how it felt to be weightless—joyous.

Suzette arrived at eight a.m. giving me just enough time to order room service of fresh fruit and an omelette, and douse myself on coffee. The closer we came to the ceremony the more my tummy churned. Nerves fluttered unhindered, slicking my palms, racing my heart.

I wanted to be Q’s so badly—I couldn’t relax until it came true.

Suzette came bearing gifts.

Make up. Shoebox. Covered dress. And a bag that looked suspiciously like lingerie.

“Morning. Hope you slept well.” She dumped the items on the bed, looking like the complete master of whatever she’d planned. Looking me up and down, she nodded. “Good to see you’re showered and fed. Two things I can scratch off my to-do list.”

Two women with plaited black hair and sun-darkened skin appeared, looking to Suzette for guidance.

Suzette grinned, waving them into the room and toward the dresser with its white lacquered wood and large ornate mirror.

“We’ll set up everything over there.”

I didn’t say a word—I didn’t think I was expected to as Suzette assembled order at the dressing table, plopping bottles, lining up mascaras and eye-shadow.

Coming toward me, she grabbed my hand, marching me toward the chair. “Sit.”

I descended on the soft periwinkle stool and looked at myself for the first time in forever.

Oh, my God. Is that my reflection?

I looked haggard. My hair hung damp around my shoulders, lifeless. My skin looked ashen and the shadows under my eyes showed just how much I’d been through in the past few days.

But it was my gaze that scared me—that made my mouth hang open. I no longer recognised myself.

The crescent moon had completely changed me.

Gone was the softness—the innocence. I no longer looked like the insecure Australian girl I’d been. I’d stared death in the face; I’d stepped into the cloak of the grim reaper and stolen two lives willingly.

The grey was tempered with hardness, the blue glittering with strength. I didn’t look weak or lost or afraid. I looked ruthless. My eyes were no longer one dimensional but hid strength of character, trials overcome, sorrow defeated, and horror tamed.

I look like him.

I clutched my heart, realizing what’d changed. I’d adopted the same chilly sharpness that both Q and Franco lived with. I’d embraced something that would never be changeable. I’d evolved into a woman who no one would deny belonged beside Q completely.

Tears welled, turning my vision into a watery dream.

“Aw, Tess. It’s okay.” Suzette’s arms wrapped around my neck from behind, her soft cheek pressing against mine.

More tears fell but I wasn’t crying because of what I’d done. I cried because of what I’d become. I never thought I could be so strong, so self-assured—so…dangerous.

I’m worthy.

Finally—I was worthy. Not for Q or the abundant future he promised, but for myself. I felt worthy enough to be proud.

Suzette’s eyes met mine in the mirror. “I know you killed to get him back. Franco told me a little about what happened.” She pecked my cheek before pulling away, gathering my hair with her feminine touch. “You saved him—just as much as he saved you. Maybe even more.”

My life would never be the same. The chrysalis of the Tess I never thought I’d find finally cracked its final layer. I emerged into my new world wondrously happy, courageously strong, and deeply in love.

“You’re different, Tess,” Suzette murmured. “Is that what you’re seeing, too?”

I nodded, unable to believe the immense transformation.

I shivered as Suzette’s fingernails dragged over my scalp. Her touch was soothing. “I’m happy for you, mon ami. I won’t lie and say I’ve been waiting for that closure to come to me.”

Closure.

That’s what it was.

I didn’t have towers or gates barring bad memories because the memories were dealt with. I no longer segmented off my mind. Because everything was in its rightful place, and I just knew.

Knew that this was my absolute home. My happy place. The epicentre of my soul.

“You’re still struggling, Suzette?” I whispered, letting her busy herself with untangling my hair. Grabbing a brush from one of the drawers, Suzette proceeded to tame my curls, building the golden glow that’d been lost thanks to stress and lack of sleep.

“I’m not struggling, exactly. I’ve put it all behind me. But I haven’t got to the point where I’m okay with it—you know?”

I captured her hand, holding her still. Her knobbly fingers were brittle and arthritic from so many unnatural breaks at the sadistic whims of masters. So many trafficked women lived nightmarish existences. I’d survived and I would use my newfound strength to work beside Q. I would dedicate my life to the Feathers of Hope charity and try to give every broken woman a happy ending like mine.

I placed my hands in my lap. “I understand completely. I was at that place when Q brought me back by giving me his pain. He’d fixed me, but there was still so much unresolved.”

Suzette smiled. “Maybe, I’ll find someone to save me, too.”

I shook my head. “Q didn’t save me—well, he did—but ultimately, he just showed me the way. He showed me I had the power to save myself. You have that power inside you, too. You just have to acknowledge it.”

Tears wobbled in my eyes, overwhelmed with all that’d happened. “Thank you, Suzette. For everything.” Our gaze connected; I poured forth every gratitude. “You helped me when I first arrived. You gave me clues about who Q really was. You’re so much stronger than me in so many ways. I know you’ll get there—because you helped me do the same.”

She continued to work on my curls. “You didn’t need me. You’re the strong one, Tess. But I’m so happy to have you in my life—happy to have a friend.” Her lips flitted into a sad smile. “And I do know what you mean. I sense it—inside. I’m getting there.”

One of the island staff came closer. She had a pretty face with thick eyelashes and a diamond pierced through her nose. “Shall I begin, ma’am?”

Suzette cleared her throat, dispelling our conversation. Her smile broadened, hiding the vulnerability in her eyes. “Yes. We don’t have much time.” Suzette pulled me backward, screeching the stool legs over the tiles, giving the girl room to kneel at my feet and place numerous tools, varnishes, and a foot spa beside me.

The other staff member came forward with a small trolley, setting up her station by my left side to tend to my fingernails.

“Wow, I’ve never been so pampered.” I sank my feet into the warm bath for my toes.

The women worked in soft silence, transforming me from a girl who’d killed yesterday into a pure princess today.

Never in my life had I bonded with girlfriends this way. I never owned nail varnishes or pretty things—my parents thought they were the devil’s tools. I’d never had a sleepover or done something drastic with my hair.

My smile fell for what I’d missed out on, but I stopped the thought.

It makes this all the more special. I was glad it was Suzette helping me get ready. It was fitting because she was my closest friend—living with us, looking after Q and me—family. She was family.

I drifted in girly bliss. “You do know you’re going to spoil me. I’ll never want to do my own hair or nails again.”

Suzette and the women giggled. “You’re supposed to be spoiled on your wedding day.” Suzette’s face scrunched in concentration, taking sections of my hair, pinning it in a haphazard way. “Besides, I’ve seen your capabilities with hairdressing and your version of tying it up is a boring ponytail.”

Only because I’d never had anyone show me how to style. I had a feeling my days of jumpers and jeans were behind me.

Slowly my tresses morphed from draping down my back to neatly secured in a loose chignon. I looked in the mirror, mesmerized as Suzette somehow preformed a miracle by making my hair stay up with no ties or over use of clips.

My fingernails were wet with Love’s First Kiss pink nail varnish and I reached carefully to pat the thick French-inspired up do.

Suzette swatted my hand away. “No touching. It’s up but a bit precarious, so be careful.”

I frowned, tilting my head to admire it. I looked sophisticated and demure. Not exactly how I would’ve done it, but I was eternally grateful for Suzette’s help. “I’ll be dancing and spending the day in high humidity. Doesn’t it need to stay up without ruining your masterpiece?”

Her lips curled into a smile. My heart stuttered at the flash of calculation in her eyes. What is she up to?

“It doesn’t have to be up for long. Besides, let me worry about all of that.” With that cryptic comment, she turned to grab the packages from the bed. “Thank you, ladies. I can take it from here.”

I stood, carefully stepping over the tiles, trying not to smudge my toenails. Suzette upended a bag onto the mattress.

My stomach flipped. Littered on the white bedspread, looking sinful and entirely too kinky, was black, lacy lingerie. But it didn’t stop there. Black stockings with a garter belt, a delicate bow stitched into the sheer material, along with a black leather corset with blood-red velvet ties.

My eyes flew to Suzette. “What is this?”

She glowed. “I figure you’re going to be the virgin bride, dressed all in white, but the moment Q takes it off—he’ll find his esclave again. Don’t you want to wear it for him?”

I picked up the boned corset, inspecting the intricate sparrows stitched into the leather. Tears pricked my eyes again at the direct symbolism that I was one of Q’s birds. The only one who stayed for him.

My heart winged thinking of tonight. I couldn’t wait to have him in bed again.

“It’s beyond beautiful. But won’t it show under the dress?”

Suzette shook her head. “No. Leave all the worrying to me. It’s time to get you ready. We don’t have much time.” Shoving the gown from my shoulders, she demanded, “Strip. I need to add concealer to any bruises you still have and dress you in an outfit that’ll make any master hard.”

“Your body is mine. Your pain is mine.” Q’s voice cut through my thoughts. What would he do when he saw the lingerie? Would he cut it off or leave it?

Apprehension filled me. What if the sight triggered Q’s darkness? What if he won’t wait any longer? My back tensed, very aware of his innuendoes and veiled promises. Q would expect more from me tonight. It was our wedding night—he wanted to claim something he hadn’t claimed before.

I swallowed hard. It was irrational to be so afraid, but I was. Nerves tripled my heartbeat.

Suzette didn’t notice my silence. “I see the way he looks at you, Tess. He won’t be able to contain himself.”

I laughed. Q containing himself? Never. He operated with passion and rage and dark energy. There would be no containing him—or denying what he wanted.

But he’s hurt.

My eyes widened. I didn’t need to be afraid of tonight. There was no way Q would be up for our usual sex. He was injured. I breathed a sigh of relief. “I doubt he’ll be reacting all that much, Suzette. He’s not exactly in a condition to attack me.”

Suzette unthreaded the corset. Her eyes glinted with the same deviousness as before. “Whatever you say.”

What the hell is that? My spine stiffened, sensing a hidden agenda. “What are you up to, Suzette?”

Her lips spread into a wicked smile. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise—for both of you.” Twirling me around, she pressed the warm leather corset against my middle. “The first part is my gift to you. The second…” her voice trailed off. Her fingers tugged on the velvet stays, lacing me inside.

“The second…” I prompted.

Her voice was far away, seeing things I didn’t know. “The second part is for him. Purely for him.”

Goosebumps spread over my skin. The thoughts I’d had of a traditional wedding, complete with rose petals and ring bearers, suddenly seemed like a fantastical illusion. Q had put Suzette in charge. He’d put a woman who’d lived with him for years, who’d lived through horror, in charge of a romantic event.

Did she even know the meaning of romance? Had the word been beaten and raped out of her leaving her tainted toward fairy-tales?

Trust her. Let her do this.

Expelling a shaky breath, I whispered, “If it’s for him then I’m sure it will be amazing and he’ll love it.”

A minute ticked past, silence heavy between us. She finished securing my corset, then hugged me fiercely. “Thank you for trusting me and not asking questions.”

“Thank you for organising my wedding.”

We shared a smile. I didn’t care what she’d planned. In a few short hours, I would be Mrs. Mercer and nothing could ruin my happiness.

“Come on. Let’s finish. Can’t have Q waiting.” Suzette passed me the stockings.

“You know him better than that, Suzette. He’d be down here dragging me over his shoulder if I’m a minute late.”

Suzette laughed. “In that case—we better hurry.”

The rest of the time flew—beautifying me for my nuptials.

My stomach rolled. I’m going to be sick.

My lungs stuck together. I can’t breathe.

My heart galloped. I’m getting married.

Music drifted across the island, dipping and lilting with the Seychelles breeze. I strained to hear more—to count how many guests would witness my union to Q—to envision the type of ceremony Suzette had put together.

Heading to a wedding that I hadn’t planned or had any idea of what would happen twisted my stomach, but excitement existed, too.

I’m really doing this. I’m about to get married.

Sparrows, finches, and doves lived in my ribcage, trapped tightly beneath a corset etched with their fellow kin. Their wings made me float across the patio next to the seahorse pool all the while tickling me with nervous feathers.

I looked down at the white dress cocooning my body. Suzette had been elevated to goddess in my mind. She’d transformed me from lacklustre girl to flawless mannequin.

The dress was a mixture of lace and silk and taffeta—all in different shades of white. My right shoulder was bare. My left shoulder was adorned with a white rosette draping down the front of the bodice with exquisite lace.

My hips flared with a see-through organza train, the fabric whispering over the heaviness of silk. The elegance was perfect, the craftsmanship superb. And Suzette was right. Not one sign of the leather corset or lingerie I wore was visible.

The only thing ruining the virgin image was the black sprig of feathers in my hair, glittering with onyx gems.

Suzette beamed, holding my face in her hands. “You look incredible.”

A staff member held a mirror for me to check any last minute issues. I took one last disbelieving glimpse. My eyes were globes of grey serenity, highlighted with silver eye-shadow. My lips were a blood-red, glistening as if I’d turned vampire and favoured the remnants of my last meal.

I’d never looked so pretty and for a moment sadness fell over me. My parents would never see me marry the man of my dreams—my friends would never witness my transformation from girl to woman.

It doesn’t matter. None of this is for them. It’s for him. For me.

Patting my hair one last time, I said, “Thank you so much, Suzette. I would never have been able to pull this together.” Even the red lipstick, which I thought clashed to begin with, worked. Instead of cheapening the pureness of my attire it added a pop of dramatic—a flare of danger.

She stepped to my side, looping an arm through mine. “I’m so glad you’re happy. That’s all I wanted.” Her body tensed. “Um…I haven’t asked this yet—and feel free to say no—but…I want to walk you down the aisle.” Her eyes flickered with reckless hope, tangled with already felt rejection. “If you’d prefer a man, Frederick is here, and he said he’d gladly give you away to his best friend.” She looked away, hiding the pain in her face, fully expecting me to choose Fred over her.

My heart hurt to see such uncertainty in a friend who’d been nothing but a rock to me. It was time I took the role of supporter, guiding her to the emotion she wanted most of all—freedom from her past.

Grabbing her in a hug, I squeezed hard, cursing the boning of the corset. “I want you to do it. You’d be doing me an incredible honour, giving me away to the man we both love.”

Her heart-shaped face shattered with happy moisture. She pulled away, dabbing at her makeup, practically pushing her tears back inside. She wore a powder grey dress, matching my style with one shoulder and organza train. Her beautiful brown hair was coiled into four thick curls down her back.

She was so pretty. Franco will notice. He has to notice.

I rolled my eyes, thinking of the clueless man. He needed a push in the right direction if he didn’t get the memo today—but I had a feeling Suzette would tell him loud and clear. Weddings had a way of bringing people together—cutting through the unsaid mess, letting the truth blare.

Suzette once again looped her arm through mine. “Ready to get married?”

Lungs. Stomach. Heart.

I swallowed hard.

“Tu es à moi, esclave.” You’re mine. Q’s voice whispered through my mind, granting me serenity.

Yes, I’m ready. Ready to change my world forever.

My nerves disappeared, leaving me with utmost confidence and love. “Yes.”

Leaving the gorgeous chalet, we made our way around the seahorse pool, heading inland, following the musical map coming from the venue.

The white sand had been swept from the boardwalk and scattered frangipani petals led the way. Staff members stood like sentries in equal distance, smiling as we passed. We had no others in our procession. Just me and Suzette.

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.

She sent me winging to Q. I left my past behind; I left earth behind—embracing my new home in the night sky.

The music drifted to a lasting note, fading away.

Q stole all my senses—just like he always did. I breathed in his citrus and sandalwood. I drank in his bruised face. I heard his heartbeat because it was the same as mine.

One beat. One thrum.

He stood steadfast; his eyes luminous with a mixture of love and trepidation. We stood stiff before each other. My hands wanted to touch. My lips wanted to kiss. And my heart wanted to erupt from my chest and land in his palms in gratitude. Gratitude for choosing me.

I was born for you.

His eyes tightened. His throat worked hard as he swallowed. The feathered wings in my stomach lived in him, too—mirroring our nervousness.

My breathing was shallow. I want you in bed. I want to whisper the vows to you alone. I want to give myself to you in every possible way a woman can.

Q’s lips twitched, his head lowered, but he never looked away. The intensity of his gaze sent a ripple of pleasure right to my core.

I stood before him and shamelessly grew wet.

My eyes dropped to his linked hands, hiding the swelling bulge in his trousers. My pussy clenched, craving his touch. He was so damn handsome. So dignified and closed off. Only I saw the passion, the aggression.

My lips parted. I wanted his stern lips to kiss me sweetly. I wanted his harsh fingers to touch me gently. I wanted the privilege of hugging him while he took me slowly. Ever so slowly. Sinking together, drifting together, getting lost together.

I wanted love in physical expression.

Q broke his unreadable façade by taking my hand. His touch was a comet shooting from every finger, supercharging my body. His fingers tightened, cutting off my blood, transmitting his highly controlled need through one caress.

He stepped closer, tugging me into him.

The marquee ceased to exist. The guests were gone. The world was nothing. He was everything, and I needed him. Now.

A masculine cough right by my ear made me leap in my heels.

I tore my attention from Q, focusing on the man standing before us dressed in a well-cut linen suit.

Q chuckled quietly, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “We’re not alone, esclave. Not yet.” His lips moved but his words were lower than a whisper, understood purely by my soul rather than ears.

The celebrant, the man who had the power to turn our two lives into one, grinned. His soft sable eyes, dark brown hair, and weather-worn face made him friendly and approachable.

“Welcome,” he said in a deep attention-grabbing voice. “I’m honoured to precede over your vows today. Are you ready to begin?”

Begin? So fast. No prelude or…

“You ready, mon amour?” Q raised my hand, kissing my ring. His dry warm lips teased a moan from my soul.

Looking into his eyes settled everything. Yes. I was ready.

I nodded, holding his fingers as my heart shook off its lust-induced slow beat, favouring a fast hopscotch instead. This was it. I’m getting married.

Q murmured, “I’m holding the woman I’m about to marry, so yes, you may begin.”

Q’s eyes never left mine. Our spirits reached out, interlinking, forming a private bubble where the world could be seen but nothing could touch us. He spun the wing circlet around my wedding finger. “You’ll never walk again without me by your side, esclave.”

My heart stole all the blood in my body, swelling with aching love.

The celebrant clasped his hands in front of him. “Fantastic. Let’s start.” Looking past us, he grinned at the groomsmen and bridesmaids. I ignored them in my peripheral vision, giving my full attention to my master.

It was just him and me.

As it had always been and always would be.

“Welcome, everyone, to the joining of Tess Olivia Snow and Quincy Mercer II. I will say thank you on behalf of the bride and groom for travelling to this sun-blessed country and gracing your good fortune to ensure this marriage is full of richness, happiness, and love.”

The celebrant lowered his voice. “I can either give you vows to repeat after me—or if you prefer, you can dedicate your own vows to each other. Either will be binding and sanctified by me.”

My stomach leapt into my mouth. Vows! What with the whirlwind crescent moon and Q’s torture, I hadn’t had time to write heartfelt promises or pledges. My eyes flared wide. I’ve ruined it before it’s begun. I should’ve known. I should’ve planned.

“I’d like to say our own,” Q murmured. “However, I want you to go first, Tess.” Authority rang in his voice; the room swam with panic.

I clutched his fingers. “Q, I can’t. I don’t know what to say. I have so much—so much that I want to get right. I’m…” My eyes searched his. “I’m unprepared. I don’t want to say something wron—”

“You’re overthinking it. Just—”

“But what if I say something terrible? I’ve never been to a wedding or know what needs to be sworn. I’ll screw up. Our marriage will be a sham.” My spine tickled with tears, the damn corset squeezed my ribs like a vice.

Q cupped my cheek, bringing me closer in a rustle of silk. His mouth rested on my ear, granting me strength. “I’m just as nervous as you are.” Guiding my hand, he placed it over his heart. The rapidly thudding muscle, that’d been through so much, thrummed beneath my fingers in a rugged tattoo. “See. I’m terrified. But I want to know what’s in your heart. Dare, Tess. I dare you to tell me everything.”

Having his life-force beat beneath my fingertips tempered my panic. I laughed quietly. “You’re daring me to say things I have no idea how to articulate.” I had no idea what the correct etiquette was. What was forbidden to discuss—what was permitted. “I don’t know what to say, Q.”

He pressed a whisper-soft kiss on my ear. “Just say what’s in your soul. That’s all I’m going to do. Nothing you feel can be wrong, esclave. Trust it.”

I sucked in a gulp of air, dragging his incredible aftershave into my lungs. Thoughts raced through my head. The truth—that’s where the horror lay.

Memoires swarmed thick and fast.

“I’d kill for you, Tess. I have killed for you.” The day in Q’s office—the morning I was stolen.

“Ah, esclave, this wasn’t supposed to happen.” The evening he’d found me raped by Lefebvre.

“There is pain in intimacy. Let me make your pain my pleasure.” The shower where he replaced himself with the horrible incident.

“You’ll do this or I’ll kill you—do you understand?” The day he forced me to hurt him—all in the name of bringing me back.

I thought about his temper. His violence. His ruthlessness.

I thought about his compassion. His love for birds. His selfless acts of saving women.

So many things to say. So many things that would be forever treasured.

Speak from your heart.

I wouldn’t bow to censorship. I would share our unconventional history. Q made me into the woman I was but I’d also turned him into the man he’d become. Our past formed us and it would be forever a part of us.

My courage was faint, but I straightened my shoulders. “I love you.”

Q smiled, holding my hand. I took a deep breath, throwing myself into the truth, spilling my heart—painting our life with promises. “All my life, I never truly existed. I struggled to know what I was meant for. I followed a path I didn’t understand.” I swallowed. “I was lonely. I never felt the pinprick of heartache, or the warmth of a hug. But then I was captured and sold.”

Q turned to stone, his fingers latching hard around mine.

“The day I was taken, my life ended. I thought I would die. I wanted to die. But then I was sold to a master who changed my world completely.”

Q stopped breathing.

“This new master confused me, hurt me, but ultimately taught me what I was missing all along. I was missing him. He was the hole in my heart—he was my other half. I was no longer lonely, or searching for something I didn’t understand. My grey world became prismatic, and I valued every lesson he taught.”

My heart stuttered. No matter the happiness of being sold to Q, my trials hadn’t ended there.

“But life decided I wasn’t worthy—not yet.” I closed my eyes, fighting back the ghosts of Rio. “I endured a price I didn’t know I could pay, but once again I learned something. The right love—soul-mate love—is priceless.

“My master came for me—proving once again I never had to be afraid or alone but in return I shut him out, hurting him worse than anyone.” My heart cracked for how heartless I’d been. “I shut myself off, unable to trust anymore—trust a life that gave so much but took away more in return. But now I know why. I learned my final lesson.

“Life taught me an eternal love will demand the worst sacrifices. A transcendent love will split your soul, cleaving you into pieces. A love this strong doesn’t grant you sweetness—it grants you pain. And in that pain is the greatest pleasure of all.”

I met Q’s eyes. His lips were pressed into a fine line, containing the smouldering emotion in is gaze. He burned with everything he felt, barely containing it. The connection between us was thick and heavy and I wanted to be alone. I wanted to kiss him. Love him. Worship him.

“Q, I’m not just yours for this lifetime. I’m yours forever. I will follow you through unhappiness, confusion, and hardship. I will bask beside you in success, fortune, and laughter. I will obey you because I trust you. I will push you because I believe in you. I will fight with you because that is where our passion lives. And I will make love to you the way our demons demand.

“My blood is yours.

“My breath is yours.

“And I swear to you when this life is over, I will wait for you to join me. I will travel with you through galaxies and solar-systems to be yours once again. Because a love like this isn’t replicable. You’ve ruined me. Devastated me. Destroyed me by choosing me as your wife.”

A single tear rolled down my cheek. I said my final vow, “Je suis à toi. Je suis ton monstre dans le noir pour toujours.” I’m yours. I’m your monster in the dark forever.

Silence was a heavy shroud, hushing even the tweets of birds outside.

Q hadn’t moved. His body locked down, face hard and dark.

Perhaps I had no right to tell our story aloud. Maybe he thought I’d failed by being so honest. But I wanted Q to know that everything I lived through—every hardship was necessary—because it made me deserving. It taught me Q was worth every sacrifice. It made me strong enough to keep him.

The future was ours. Evolving together. Twisting our souls into one. Knitting our lives into inseparable tapestries. I could never love another like him. Fate designed us from the same darkness, the same fabric of wrongness.

Q cleared his throat. The celebrant didn’t move, waiting for the thick silence to disperse.

Say something! I couldn’t read him. He’d shut down, trembling with colossal energy, glowing with everything he trapped inside. “Tess—” Finally a crack, a small doorway into his feelings. “Je suis—”

Then he folded to his knees.

My stomach lodged in the tight boning of my corset. I’d never seen a man so proud, so strong and fierce, be so shattered and humbled.

Q’s ferocious eyes ensnared me.

“Tess, je ne serai jamais capable d'exprimer à quel point je tiens à toi. Je n’aurais jamais les mots pour exprimer combien Je t'aime.” Tess, I’ll never be able to express how much I care for you. I’ll never know the words to say how much I love you.

He looked away, gathering his thoughts. His back rippled with a deep breath. “Je ne savais pas que j'étais seul. Je ne savais pas que j’étouffais ma douleur et mon besoin d’affection sous le travail. Je hais mon héritage, d’où je viens et je ne me suis jamais senti digne du bonheur. Mais ensuite, toi, esclave Cinquante-huit ans, est entrée dans mon monde. Tu m’as fait tout remettre en question.” I never knew I was lonely. I never knew I smothered my pain and the need for connection beneath my work. I hate my heritage—where I’ve come from—and never felt worthy of happiness. But then you, Slave Fifty-eight, entered my world. You made me question everything.

“Je voulais te briser. T’adorer. Te faire crier. Je voulais tant de choses mais par-dessus tout, je voulais ce que j'ai vu dans tes yeux brillants pour moi, que tu me fasses confiance. Je voulais ton âme.” I wanted to break you. Adore you. Make you scream. I wanted so many things but beneath it all, I wanted what I saw in your eyes glowing for me, trusting me. I wanted your soul.

I reached down, begging him to take my hand. He did, pressing a sharp kiss to my knuckles. “Tu m’acceptes pour ce que je suis. Mes ténèbres et le reste. Mes pêchés et le reste. Tu es mon égal. Mon professeur. Je suis ton disciple. Je suis ton propriétaire. Je ne pourrais pas être plus amoureux de toi même si j'avais deux cœurs au lieu d'un. Ma vie est à toi. Mon âme est à toi. Je fais le voeu de toujours te consoler. De toujours te protéger. Je vais pleurer avec toi. Je vais rire avec toi. Je t’enlacerai tous les soirs de notre vie.” You accept me for me. Darkness and all. Sin and everything. You are my equal. My teacher. I am your disciple. I am your owner. I couldn’t be more in love with you if I had two hearts instead of one. My life is yours. My soul is yours. I vow to always comfort you. Always protect you. I will cry with you. I will laugh with you. I will hold you every night of our lives.”

Q’s voice deepened, filling with heartache and overwhelming love. “Je ne déteste plus mes démons, car tu les combats pour moi. Je ne me sens plus seul parce que tu es mon refuge. Je ne me fais plus peur parce que tu contrôles ma bête. Je suis ton monstre, Tess. Je tuerai ceux qui t’ont fait du mal. Je nourrirais ceux qui s’occuperont de toi . Je ne cesserai jamais de chasser tes cauchemars et de t’offrir une vie parfaite.” I no longer hate my demons because you fight them on my behalf. I no longer feel alone because you are my home. I no longer fear myself because you control my beast. I’m your monster, Tess. I’ll kill those who hurt you. I’ll nurture those who tend you. I’ll never stop hunting your nightmares or providing a perfect life.”

My legs wobbled. The conviction in his tone, the edge of violence in his eyes—he shot barbs right into my heart. The echoes of his vows would live in me for an eternity. He’d made me immortal with his words.

I believed every vow. I cherished every promise. I never needed to be afraid or lost. Ever again. Because he would protect me and I would protect him. Always.

His eyes latched onto the ‘Q’ branding my neck. His face tightened with passion. “Tu portes mon nom, donc je sais que tu seras toujours à moi. Permets moi de passer l’éternité à te protéger et à t’aimer, esclave. Je suis à toi. Je suis ton monstre dans le noir pour toujours.” You wear my mark, so I know you’ll always be mine. Let me spend my forevers protecting and loving you, esclave. I’m yours. I’m your monster in the dark forever.”

Silence fell as Q climbed to his feet, wincing. He looked drained but content as if he’d poured everything from him to me and had nothing left. His broken body needed to rest.

With a look full of black passion, he pulled me into a tight embrace. The celebrant didn’t say a word as Q’s lips pressed against mine. He kissed me with the fine edge of control and anger I was so used to.

His tongue slipped past my lips. I met his with mine, dancing together, making love together. I went limp in his arms. All the tension and love turned me from mannequin to puddle. I wanted the honour of pampering him, healing him. I wanted him naked in bed.

The kiss could’ve been a century or only a moment but it was the seal on our promises. A non-verbal agreement we were each other’s for eternity.

Pulling back, Q stiffened. His eyes narrowed on something behind me. I tried to shift in his arms, but Suzette appeared, eagerness vibrating around her. “Please let her go, master.”

Q’s lips pulled back into a snarl. “What are you doing, Suzette. It’s not over. Go away.”

She ducked her head, cheeks pinking at his temper. “I know. But allow me to do something before the final vow.”

My blood was replaced with molasses. Thanks to Q’s mind-twisting kiss nothing made sense. All I wanted was to be alone with him. I needed to bask in this sweet vulnerability between us.

Feminine hands landed on my shoulders from behind, tugging me from Q’s embrace.

Hey! Stop.

“Trust us, Tess.” Her—the woman who’d been singing. She smiled softly. “I’m Angelique—Frederick’s wife. Hi.”

My brain skipped, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “Um—hi.” I stumbled in her hold, struggling to stay attached to Q. “Please, let me go.”

“Yes, let her go, Angelique. You don’t want me angry and you’re doing a damn good job,” Q snapped.

Angelique shook her head. “Not yet. Trust us.” She pulled harder.

My arms went from holding Q to holding air. The only part locked together was our fingertips. Q stood there, breathing hard, his face twisted with pain. He looked livid but too banged up to move. “Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“I will. Come with me, Mercer.” Frederick jerked him, breaking the last remaining contact of our fingers. Q spun around, groaning in pain. “Roux—what the—” Frederick led him away, lending a hand as Q’s stitched up legs seized from standing too long.

Let me go! I wanted to be the one who Q used as support. I wanted to hold him while his body healed.

Suzette cut off my vision, standing directly in front of me. “Remember when I said to trust me. That the second part was for him?” Her hazel eyes shimmered with nervousness. “Please…trust me.”

I looked over her head to a fighting Q. Both Frederick and Franco whispered in his ear, holding his shoulders to prevent him causing more injury.

“You’re ruining it, Suzette.” I swallowed my anxiety, battling with trusting whatever she planned to do. “Please—”

She smiled. “It will make sense. Just let it happen.” Her eyes flew to Angelique behind me. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Angelique whispered in my ear, “It will be okay. I promise.” Her hands fell to my sides just as Suzette gripped the front of my dress.

What the hell are they doing?

My eyes searched for Q but he was surrounded by his entourage. No doubt hurting himself trying to fight. Let them do it. Get it over with.

I relaxed a little and Suzette took my silence as permission.

With a sharp nod, Suzette ruined my life. The wondrous gown, so brilliantly made and oh so beautiful, ripped with the echoing sound of a lightning bolt.

The fabric ripped from the sides as if the weakness had been deliberately sewn into the dress, splitting like a well sliced cake.

It only took one tug to turn the white masterpiece into a disaster on the floor. It pooled, dead and forgotten by my feet.

What has she done?!

My heart exploded at being stripped of the only wedding dress I’d ever wear. All the preparation this morning for nothing—it ended up in pieces on the floor.

I blushed, bringing my arms up to hide my corset-clad breasts. The swell of flesh teetered provocatively on top of the tightly cinched lingerie. The black sexy pantyhose were on display, complete with saucy bow, and glittering red sequin shoes. My knickers were black lace, hiding my decency with nothing more than darker detailing between the legs. The garter belts clipped to the corset, imprisoning my legs with frilly black stays.

I’d been transformed from bride to whore.

I gasped as someone undid my hair with a sharp tug, spilling the careful up-do to waterfall down my back in lazy waves. The black feathers stayed, quivering in my strands.

Q shoved Frederick off him, his mouth gaping. “How dare you fucking touch her!” He stomped forward, undeterred by agony, zeroing in on me. But Franco wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him steadfast. Frederick recaptured him, mumbling in his ear.

“I don’t care. I want none of this. What the hell are you doing!” Q wrenched his arm free from Franco’s hold. “This wasn’t your decision!”

Don’t hurt yourself! My heart hurt for him. We were so private about our world. So sure no one would accept what we needed—so used to keeping it hidden.

To have his trusted friends expose us.

It hurt. A lot.

Standing in kinky lingerie sent embarrassment twisting my stomach, but it would be worse for Q. He hated others seeing me undressed. Especially dolled up like the slave he’d always wanted.

Wait…

My heart leapt. Is that what Suzette’s doing?

I had to go to him—to give him comfort. I might understand what all of this meant.

“Tess. Stay.” Suzette planted a firm hand on my sternum. “It’s not over yet.”

“But—”

“Let her go!” someone yelled. “Crikey, what the hell is going on here?”

That voice. Oh, my God, I knew that voice.

My eyes zeroed in on Brax.

Brax!

Q followed my moon-wide gaze, bristling with rage. He didn’t look as if he’d survived a torturing session, more like ready to jump in the ring with anyone stupid enough to get in his way.

Shit. I feared for Brax’s safety.

My ex-boyfriend jumped up from his chair, pointing a shaking finger. “Stop!” He wore a pastel blue blazer and jeans, his floppy brown hair slicked with gel. He looked older than the last time I’d seen him, more of a man than a boy.

Brax pushed a girl—our old neighbour Bianca—out of his way, stomping into the aisle. “What is the meaning of this? You don’t strip the bride—it’s awful. Stop the ceremony. Right now!”

Q shoved Franco off him, taking a calculated step toward the reckless boy from my past. His hands curled beside his hips. He spoke softly but it rippled down the aisle, skewering Brax in the chest. “You have no fucking authority here, boy. I suggest you sit down. Shut the fuck up. And don’t give me a reason to escort you off this island with my fists.”

My heart catapulted from frantic to chaotic. What had Suzette done? She’d ruined an amazing wedding…she’d upset everything.

I bent down, scooping up my discarded dress. “Suzette, let’s fix this. Help.”

Q reached for me, flinching as his body was dragged backward by Frederick. “Calm down, Q. Jesus, let us do what we’re doing okay?”

Q threw his arms up, livid anger mixing with the painful sheen on his cheeks. “Whatever you’re doing, I demand it to be over. Someone cover Tess, goddammit.”

Suzette ignored my plea to fix my dress. She winged down the aisle, shoving Brax back into his chair. “Don’t interfere. You’re the only outsider here, so sit down and hush up.” Turning, she headed to Q. Terror glowed in her eyes, but determination lent strength to her features. “Please. Stop fighting. Let us do this. Trust me, Q. Please! Give me one minute, then you can kill me, smite me, whatever you want. Just let us do this.”

Q snarled, “How about you stop. Right now. I’m fucking done with whatever is going on here!”

I huddled, waiting for an explosion. The atmosphere in the room sparked with ignition—ready to blow up at any second.

The celebrant’s voice was the persona of calm in the horrendous storm. “Excuse me, everyone, but I have been made privy to this new arrangement, and I suggest you take the lady’s advice and let her proceed.”

Everyone froze.

Q breathed hard, his energy levels depleting. He stood panting, his face contorted with agony. “This is ridiculous.”

“I agree. You fighting is ridiculous. Stand still for one damn moment.” Frederick took his hands carefully off Q. When Q didn’t sprint out of the marquee or punch him, Frederick took the opportunity to rip the white blazer from his shoulders.

At the same time Franco tore at Q’s trousers. The material fell away, revealing shiny black slacks. In a blink, Q was disarmed of the illusion of pureness and re-dressed in darkness. His tie came undone, waistcoat, and shirt all ripped from his bruised torso.

What are they doing?

Q stood half-naked and I couldn’t control the desire spooling in my blood. The dampness between my legs multiplied staring at the man who owned my heart. The damaged man who needed to lie down and let me lavish him with love.

My eyes fell to the scarring ‘T’ above his heart, barely visible amongst fresh bruises. My heart flurried. My self-consciousness and doubt faded away, drinking in his perfection.

Frederick turned to a hidden pedestal, returning with a black blazer beautifully tailored with embroidered crimson sparrows.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Q demanded as the new blazer was shoved up his arms and positioned over his shoulders. His naked chest and tattoo stayed visible through the gaping of the fabric.

Frederick growled, “Giving you a memory you will never forget, you bastard.”

Q’s face darkened. “I had everything I wanted before you fucked it up.”

Franco shook his head. “You had the white wedding, but you and Tess are more than that. You come alive in the dark. And that’s what we’re giving you. Believe me, you’ll want this.”

Q gritted his teeth, shrugging the new clothing into position. He transformed from angel to monster. My monster.

Q’s eyes landed on me, striking the match, blazing gunpowder to my core. My stomach fluttered as his gaze devoured me. I wanted to run my tongue down his chest. I wanted to tear off his trousers and worship him with my mouth.

My damp knickers became soaking with how deliciously dangerous he was. How bruised and damaged and sore.

Dropping my hands, I let my corset and lingerie shine. I was no longer self-conscious. I was what Q wanted most.

I was the ultimate prize. I was his. And he…he was my master.

My flesh tingled. I know what Suzette is doing.

Suzette clapped her hands and the marquee suddenly left the day, welcoming the night instead. The transformation was seamless—choreographed to perfection. White silk fell as if slaughtered by angels. Velvet black drapery replaced it, covering the ceiling, turning sunshine to stars.

White heaven fell into a devil’s lair. Black. Everything turned to black. Even the white roses around the room somehow changed to black dahlias.

It was magical. It was surreal. Suzette completely outdid herself.

She turned to face me. “Now do you understand?”

I shook away my stupor. Taking her hand, I whispered in her ear, “I’m his ultimate possession. He’s shared his heart. Now it’s time for me to share his ultimate wish.”

Suzette’s shoulders slumped in relief. “I’m so glad it makes sense.” She moved away—very aware of Q bearing down upon me.

He yanked my elbow, demanding my attention. “Are you okay?” His eyes burned with undiluted need. He bit his bottom lip, consuming my ensemble. “Fuck, Tess, you look incroyable.” His accented voice stroked my nipples, drawing more wetness to gather. His touch turned to a vice; power and lust and love glowed on my skin.

My eyes fell to his trousers, my heart skipping a beat as I followed the outline of his erection. He wanted me. I wanted him.

“I’m fine. Q—you’re…” Stepping into his body, I whispered, “I’m so wet for you, maître. Seeing you like this. Knowing you’re as hot for me as I am for you…it jumbles my thoughts. All I can think about is kissing you.”

His arm wrapped around my waist, slamming my hips against his. “I’m thinking of more than just kissing, esclave. I’m going to bruise you with how much I need you.”

I pulled away, gathering my scattered decency, trying to ignore the lava in my veins. “You’re forgetting you’re hurt. I’m not letting you touch me tonight. You need to rest.”

“Rest?” He chuckled, pressing a kiss on my cheek. “You’ll need to rest after I’m done with you. Your throat will need to rest from your screams.”

I couldn’t breathe; the corset squeezed tighter. I couldn’t take my eyes from Q’s brilliant tattoo, teasing me through the richness of his blazer. It looked incredible on him. Out of the two spectrums, Q belonged in black. He wasn’t an imposter in black.

Lust heat-waved around us, granting sensual power. I stood in front of people in lingerie. I stood blatantly showing my desire for this man and I didn’t care. I didn’t care because this was our world.

It was no longer hidden.

By making us dress this way, Suzette had brought us from the shadows and into the light.

“Goddammit, you’re a stunning creature, Tess.” Q couldn’t tear his eyes from my raised cleavage.

I’m only stunning because of the way you love me.

I dropped my gaze. “I couldn’t wait for you to see me in this—I just thought it would be for after—”

“It was never meant for after the wedding,” Frederick said, sandwiching himself between us, taking my hand and placing his other on Q’s shoulder. “It was always meant to be this way.” He guided us back to the altar and the smiling celebrant.

Q smiled curtly at the celebrant, shrugging himself free from Frederick’s hold. “I wish someone would explain what exactly all of this means. And I would’ve preferred a heads up rather than being stripped like a fucking prisoner.”

Frederick smiled. “This is to wed both sides of you—the good and the bad, the light and the dark. We’re giving you exactly what you need.”

Giving my hand a squeeze, he said, “And we couldn’t tell you before, because you wouldn’t have done it. You’re both shy. But we’re your friends—your family. And we don’t judge. We just wanted you to know that.”

Letting me go, he looked at the celebrant. “Please, we’re ready to continue.” Giving Q another smile, he moved away, taking his place by Franco. Suzette and Angelique returned to their positions behind me and the chaos settled back into love-swelled beauty.

I wasn’t nervous. I’d guessed what would come next. I’m ready. I’m ready to stitch my life permanently to his.

The celebrant looked at Q. “Are you ready for the final part?”

Q’s face twisted and for the longest moment I feared he’d walk out the door. He looked uncomfortable—very aware his dark persuasions were bold and brash and there for everyone to see.

We couldn’t hide any longer—not that we had anything to hide. This isn’t for me. It’s for him.

Reaching for Q, I froze as he stepped away.

He moved to the side where a small chest rested. Plucking it from the floor, he brought it back, placing it at my feet. Taking my hand for balance, he ordered, “Climb up.”

I wanted to ask so many things but obeyed, climbing onto the small pedestal placing me above Q’s height.

“Q, what…”

His eyes met mine, full of endless love The corset once again ceased my breathing.

“You’re mine to worship now and for always, Tess. I’ve put you above me, so everyone knows I value your life above all else. You are the reason why I exist. The reason for my happiness.”

I swallowed hard.

His eyes tightened, battling so much inside. His fingers trembled in mine. “I’m ready,” he murmured. “I’m ready to proceed.”

We never looked away. Locked together. Padlocked by souls.

The celebrant said, “I believe your best man has the next requirement.”

Frederick stepped forward, his hands clasped around something. Passing it to Q, he spoke in his ear, slapping him gently on the shoulder. I couldn’t make out what transferred but Q stiffened, shaking his head.

Masculine whispers snapped in the silence followed by a curse. Q finally snatched the gift with a sharp nod.

Q raised his arm, showing me what he’d been given. My heart leapt into my throat.

A collar. A black diamond-studded collar with a gold ring at the front.

Of course. My heart thundered.

His eyes implored me. Please…I’ve never asked you to be less than human.

And he wasn’t now. He was asking me to announce to everyone present—to him, to me, to the sanctity of marriage, that he was my master.

He is. In every way.

In an effortless move, I swayed forward. “Collar me, maître. Keep me forever,” I murmured, scooping my hair off my shoulders, waiting for him to fasten it.

Q leaned forward, his fingers shaking against my skin. His eyes swam with adoration, body trembling with love and need. “You’re given me the ultimate fantasy, esclave. You’re giving me the right to collar you. You’re giving me something I’ve always wanted but have always been too afraid to take.” His lips pressed against my temple. “Thank you, Tess. Du fond du cœur.” From the bottom of my heart.

He wrapped the soft leather around my neck and over my brand. It irritated, but the discomfort was nothing to the surging possession in my heart. Q might collar me but I collared him in return. My ownership was invisible—wrapping him in unseen chains—chains unlocked only by my soul.

I shivered as his knuckles brushed the back of my skull. He carefully cinched the buckle, marking me as his. Marking me as belonging.

Tears dripped down my cheeks as he pulled away. His eyes were liquid too, matching my love ounce for ounce. With immense tenderness, he licked my tears away, washing my face clean of happiness. “God, I love you.” His voice was barely there, but I bloomed bright and radiant.

The celebrant cleared his throat. “Do you, Quincy Mercer, take this woman Tess Snow as your lawfully wedded wife, now and forever, from this day forth?”

Q clenched his jaw. “Je le veux.” I do.

My lips spread into an awed smile.

I do. I do. I do.

“I believe your maid of honour has the next requirement,” the celebrant said softly.

Suzette gently tapped my hip, bringing my attention to her. In her hands rested a looped leash and something hidden. Pressing the small unknown item into my palm, she whispered, “You’ll know what to do with the leash, mon ami.”

I nodded, thanking her silently. I knew. Of course I knew.

Turning back to Q, I held both items in shaking hands.

The celebrant asked, “Do you, Tess Snow, take this man Quincy Mercer as your lawfully wedded husband, now and forever, from this day forth?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. If I spoke or moved my body would explode into a gazillion dazzling sparks. This must be how it felt to have dreams come true. This homecoming.

I revealed the gold and titanium steel band for the first time. I held my hand out.

With a small smile, Q placed his palm in mine, spreading his fingers, giving himself to me. His touch was just as unsteady.

Nerves made everything intense. Nerves made everything real.

This is real.

My eyes glassed, softening lines, blurring edges. Carefully and solemnly, I slid the ring Suzette had sourced over Q’s wedding finger. My heart increased its beat. The ring slipped into position—a golden symbol forever marking him as taken.

Mine.

The symbol of our unity sent tears swelling behind my collar. I couldn’t swallow the salt, too overwhelmed. I managed a whisper. Just a whisper. “I do.”

Letting Q go, I unravelled the leash, clipping the end onto the ring of my collar. Threading the soft leather through my fingers, I ceremoniously handed the end to Q. “Toujours.” Forever.

He fisted the leash. His fingers turned white, his body shaking with amazement. “Toujours.”

We’d exchanged our vows in numerous ways. We’d proven our words weren’t empty against sickness or health. We’d solidified every promise. Brought truth to every claim.

We wore each other’s brand and mark.

We were no longer separate people. We were one.

One of the same.

My heart thrilled faster as Q tugged me downward, a hard smile on his lips. His mouth landed on mine and the marquee, guests, and everything else shot from comprehension. His tongue entered, dancing in a ceaseless waltz.

His dark taste unlocked the final piece of the true Tess. My journey was over. I’d gone from weak to strong to tamed. I’d gone from lost to scared to found.

The sun rose inside, spreading golden tendrils through my body, coaxed deeper by every lick. My core rippled, desperate for physical connection. I was no longer cold and confused. I was no longer alone and unloved.

I was home.

For always.

Q deepened the kiss, combusting the sun into a raging ball of fire. Heated lust stole my limbs, pebbling my nipples, drawing wetness between my legs.

Breathing hard, he let me go. “I need you alone. Now.”

The moment Q pulled away, the celebrant raised his voice. “It is my greatest honour to present to you for the first time. Mr. and Mrs. Mercer.”

Mr. and Mrs.

My heart tripled its wingbeats.

Our friends clapped and rice rained from above, full of black glitter. The little pricks of confetti stung but I wasn’t contained by my flesh anymore. I’d expanded to something so much more.

Q wrapped his arms around me. Plucking me from the pedestal, he slowly lowered my body down his. Every slip was delicious torture. The heat of him. The hardness of him.

My feet touched the ground; Q smiled. “Hello, Mrs Mercer.”

I moaned as his hand slinked up my side, deliberately catching the side of my breast. “Hello, Mr. Mercer.”

“I’m so glad fate gave me you,” he whispered.

“I’m so glad I deserve you.”

His eyes darkened. “You deserve so much more than me, esclave. But it’s too late. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.” Time stood still as we stared into each other’s eyes.

His hand cupped my cheek, hot, claiming. “We did it.”

I accepted his feathery kiss. “We’re married.”

Q kissed me. “Nous ne faisons qu’un.” We are one.