Page 88 of Down to One
Epilogue: Happily Ever After
Blaze
I will never admit it to another living soul, well, maybe to Xzavic, but no one else. I used to dream of this.
Yeah, I was the tough girl. I fought for everything I ever got. But sometimes in my bed at night, I allowed myself to dream of a nameless, faceless man. And when I’m honest with myself, I’ll admit I used to imagine someone swooping in and making my life easier.
I never imagined he’d be seven feet tall, or blue. And I certainly never imagined that he’d be willing to die for me, or that I’d die for him. But I’m with him now and I’m never letting go.
We’ve been inseparable since that moment in the hover with the king six months ago. We’ve forged a life together here in Plesmore. We’re both in the King’s private service as bodyguards, kind of like the President’s Secret Service back home.
We live in this lovely cottage in the woods bordering the palace. It’s small and cozy and I couldn’t imagine a better place to be.
I can’t believe my eyes when I look into the mirror. I’m not just wearing a wedding dress, I’m wearing one straight out of a Disney movie. Slightly floofy sleeves, narrow waist, and billows of skirt that widen to the floor. And yeah, a train.
Wedding dresses are traditionally red here in Plesmore, which pleases me no end. Mine matches the exact color of our little reptile’s scales.
I’m wearing a tiara. Not just any tiara, but a diamond-encrusted one that dates back ten generations of Alcantars. Luckily, it’s on loan. I mean, what do you do with it? Hide it in your underwear drawer?
I resisted the whole wedding thing. I didn’t admit I wanted one. I tried to hang onto my tough-girl exterior. It was Xzavic’s impassioned proposal that convinced me. He told me how deeply he loved me and asked me to be his mate. He admitted he used to lie in bed at night dreaming of a female to love, even though his odds of surviving his bouts in the arena were slim.
When a tough guy like Xzavic admitted that, I had to confess I’d longed for those same things.
So here we are, formally getting hitched.
Titan
She wouldn’t let me see her until she walked into the room. She said it was bad luck. All our new friends are here, including the King. Although Altair and Sprout live in Plesmore now, it still pleases me every time I see him walking on his robotic legs. To think this technology was available, but only to the rich, still makes me burn with anger. He’s walking with no trouble now.
When the double doors at the back of the grand ballroom open, I only have eyes for Blaze. She’s so gorgeous she takes my breath away.
I didn’t think I could love her any more than I already do, but seeing her not only so beautiful, but so open and vulnerable makes my heart clench. She doesn’t let her guard down often, nor should she. Now that we’ve had time to get to know each other, I understand how and why she erected such thick walls around herself.
But she trusts me. She talks to me and tells me her hopes and dreams. Late at night in the privacy of our bedchamber, she even admits her fears. That’s when I hold her tight and tell her how much I love her, and when I feel most like the loving, protective mate she deserves.
The ceremony is all in a dream. The music swells, the high priestess speaks, and my mate clutches my hand tighter than when we thought the King picked us up in his hover to kill us.
Scarlet is at my side, being held on a white pillow by Sprout. The young male told us he doesn’t want to be called Sprout anymore. At his request, we call him Sparta. He barely looks like the youngling we met in that alley. He’s growing up.
We almost didn’t bring Scarlet. She has a clutch of babies we keep in a special hutch we built next to our cottage. But she deserves to be here, and, if I can read her reptilian features, she looks happy.
Although our wedding is a legitimate expression of our love and commitment, it was also the perfect event to use as cover. The King invited many known rebel sympathizers to the festivities. They’re staying at the palace, and tomorrow we begin talks about how to proceed with a fight against the Galactic Federation.
That’s for tomorrow, though. Tonight, we celebrate.
Blaze
I don’t understand why I’m feeling shy, but I am now that we’re back in our cottage bedroom. I flash a wry smile at myself in the mirror over the dresser when I remind myself we’ve had sex hundreds of times in the last six months. Several of those were televised in front of millions, if not billions, of people. But something is different today. We’re mated.
I thought of removing the heavy, formal dress myself, but in addition to having to struggle with dozens of tiny buttons, I want Xzavic to do it. I want him to unwrap me, like a present. I want to watch the passion blaze in his eyes.
I turn to look at him. He’s still wearing the formal attire of the palace guard. He’s fought at the whim of others his whole life. Working as a free male, receiving credits for his hard work, and being an esteemed member of our unit has given him a boost in confidence. Although, it’s not as if he needs it. He’s always been bold and fearless.
He’s wearing a black leather kilt, knee-high boots, and hip-length suit jacket covered in golden regalia he’s already earned for bravery on his job. When he tips his head slightly, his full lips in a pleased smile, I sense he’s shy, too.
We just pledged our love in front of hundreds of rebel sympathizers from all over the galaxy, but what we’re going to share here in our bed is more meaningful than that.
He strides to me and grabs my hand.
