Page 61 of Claimed in Sin

Stepan whispers, "Don't trip," and he snickers playfully. It's one thing I love about him—his innate ability to make me smile when I least expect it. It defuses so much tension. I love him for it.

"Don't you trip."

We begin the procession around the lectern. The first pass is slow and careful, our steps matched, the priest chanting blessings that rise and fall in a cadence. I try to focus on my feetand on Stepan's hand in mine so I don't trip and fall in front of everyone around us, but the giddiness in my belly does make me stumble. And as he promised to be, Stepan is there to help me straighten myself up as the crowd chuckles.

"You good?" he says quietly, and I smile at him.

"I'm better than I've ever been."

Nothing in my life has gone the way I thought it would. From breaking the alliance to running out on my family, the path I was on was crazy and scary, and I felt trapped by it. But now I'm on a path where I see only good things. A life I can only dream about, but it's reality.

I chose this. Every broken thing that led me here, every lie I told my father, every night I spent terrified in a house full of armed men. It all led to this circle, this crown, this man's hand in mine. I would do every part of it again knowing this is the outcome. To be Stepan Kuzin's wife, to have my family be whole and provided for, and to know my child will live to preserve my father's name for generations to come.

The procession ends and we face each other again as the priest brings the common cup and pours the wine and offers it to Stepan first.

"As our Lord Jesus Christ blessed the wedding at Cana of Galilee and turned water into wine," the priest says, "so too does He bless this union. Drink now from this common cup, for from this moment you share all things equally—your joys doubled, your sorrows divided. What God has joined together, let no one separate."

"Don't drink it all," I say, snickering.

"I wouldn't dare." Stepan's eyes sparkle with mischief as the cup comes to his lips.

He drinks, three sips, and passes it to me. I bring it to my lips and take the smallest sips I can manage, barely enough to taste, and hand it back to the priest who bows from the shoulder.

"You may kiss your bride."

Stepan has been waiting for this moment all day. From the moment I woke up and wouldn't let him kiss me, he's asked me several times, and I haven't allowed him.

When his lips brush over mine, the crowd erupts in applause and cheers. He deepens the kiss, parting my lips to slide his tongue into my mouth, and I cling to him. And when I pull back, his eyes sparkle with emotion. If I didn't know better, I'd say he may cry.

"I love you," I mouth.

"I love you too," he responds audibly.

"Be magnified, O Bridegroom, as Abraham, and blessed as Isaac, and increased as was Jacob." The priest smiles broadly as he removes Stepan's crown, and then mine. "And you, O Bride, be magnified as was Sarah, and rejoiced as was Rebecca, and increased as Rachel."

Then he turns to the crowd of our guests—my father and Elira in the front row. Kazimir, Timur, Roman, and many others who sit on his side. And he says, "May I now introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Stepanopolis Kuzin. I pronounce them man and wife."

We aren't even down the steps when rice starts flying at us. The priest offers a glass, wrapped in a white cloth, and Stepan lays it on the floor at the foot of the makeshift altar we had erected.When he rests his foot on it, he gestures at me, so I press the toe of my white heel on it next to his foot and together, we crush it.

Even my father stands to cheer.

The past is behind us. The future holds only good things, we hope. And forever, though it is a long, long time, seems brighter than ever.