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She smirks. “I don’t need a ring to be married, kid. Some connections transcend mortal wants.”

Well, there’s that, then.

Turning toward me, her eyes drill into my face.

“Be careful. You’ve done something that will absolutely enrage not one, but two families. They will come for her. You need to prepare for when that happens.”

I’d already planned how best to protect Valentina. Maeve’s right—of course. But I would’ve liked one night worry-free, before being slapped with reality.

“I know, and I’ve got it,” I reassure her. “Can we be at least a little happy right now?”

She frowns. Apparently, she doesn’t feel the same.

“Are you listening to me? You’ll get one night, maybe two, before all hell breaks loose,” she warns. The Reaper stops on my other side. “And not just over her. You’re still being watched—hunted. I won’t let you fight alone, but⁠—”

“It’s my fight,” I interrupt. “My wife. My life. I’ll handle it.”

She growls at me, and Killian claps me on my back, subtly moving me away from her.

“She’s an O’Brien now, kid,” he says, jerking his head at Valentina as Ello places her down. Both are grinning like lunatics. “Like it or not, the clan protects its own. You’ve brought us into a war, so it’s only right we all fight in it.”

“Enjoy your honeymoon,” she mutters, letting the Reaper lead her away. “For as long as you have it.”

29

VALENTINA

Idon’t remove my lips from his.

Not when we stumble out of the car from the parking garage. Not when we fall into the elevator and frighten the elderly couple who get on after us. Not when we push the alarm bell exiting it. Not when he kicks open the door of his dark and empty penthouse.

His hands roam over my curves, holding, crushing, tugging, as he memorizes every inch of who I am. I let him. I want his hands to only recognize my body and my skin. I want the feeling imprinted on his psyche, so anyone else will never strike the same chord of passion.

Maybe I’m a little toxic.

He breaks free, eyes still closed, heads pressed together. His breath is heavy, puffing across my face. Grinning, I suck on his bottom lip, and he groans.

“Shit, Sunshine,” he whimpers. “I can’t handle much more.”

“Good.” Digging my hands into his hair, I pull him back for another kiss, lips wet, tongue slick. A rumble starts in his chest, moaning against my mouth.

I run my hands over his chest and tug the jacket off his shoulders. He’s already working on the dress’s clasp. When it doesn’t come undone, he jerks the button, and it pops across the room.

“Wait,” I pant, laughing. “Don’t break my dress. I plan on keeping it for our daughter.”

“Mother of God,” he mumbles, expression wrecked. My lipstick covers his face, smeared over his chin like a sunrise over the harbor. “Don’t say those things, baby. You’ll kill me with anticipation.”

Stepping back, I pull the dress down my front, the green strapless bra nothing but a strip of lace and jewels. Eyes full of hunger, he watches as the dress pools at my feet.

“Leave the shoes on.” He scoops me up, careful of my back, hands under my ass.

The brand still stings, but I won’t let those memories ruin this. One day, I’ll have my vengeance for what was done to me, but right now, I want to enjoy my wedding night.

Gently, he lays me onto his bed, the cool silk sheets easing the burn in my body. Everywhere he touches me, he sets my skin on fire, and edges my desire higher.

He’ll be the death of me, I’m sure of it.

And I’d let him kill me, as long as he holds me, while I gaze up at the stars and take my final breath.