by Zoe Chant
“Do you know what I regret?” Scarlet snarled. “I regret letting you run roughshod over my staff. I regret biting my tongue while you treated your family like chattel. I regret allowing you to disparage your less fortunate guests by constantly reminding them of your supposed generosity and superior bloodlines. I regret letting you take a contract for service as a license for abuse. I regret pulling my best waiter from service because you were a shallow, bigoted fool.”
“You can’t talk to me that way,” Jubilee gasped, retreating another step. “You can’t!”
“Because I’m not a dragon?” Scarlet seemed to bristle, and for a moment, Breck actually thought she was going to shift on the spot. Was she a dragon? No one knew. Maybe she would eat Jubilee, he thought gleefully.
There was a moment of tension, Jubilee too terrified to protest further, then Scarlet turned away dismissively and looked at Liam, who blinked several times rapidly at her sizzling gaze but held his ground. “Liam, you may relocate your retirement home and any of your family who need shelter to the resort at your convenience. I expect a complete list of the residents and any of their special needs, as well as an accounting of their personal effects for insurance purposes. We’ll discuss the details tomorrow.”
Then Breck took the brunt of her flinty stare. “Are we still having a wedding, Breck?”
“Yes,” he said immediately. Then, when Darla’s hand tightened in his, he turned his gaze to her. “If you want to,” he added at once. “I think that technically, you won the challenge, so you probably ought to decide.”
Darla’s blue eyes got big, and Breck wondered if anyone had ever asked her to make her own choices about her life. “Yes,” she murmured hopefully. Then she drew herself up taller and met Scarlet’s eyes bravely. “Yes,” she repeated. “It would be a terrible shame to let this all go to waste,” she said practically. “But it won’t be this wedding.”
To Breck’s surprise, nearly all of the guests — especially on Liam’s side — stayed, helping the Shifting Sands crew put the chairs back in order and right the fallen pots of flowers. Only a few of them retreated from the wedding field. One of the dragon guests did the honor of removing the fuming Mrs. Grant from the resort rather than forcing her to wait for the charter plane.
The gargoyle clergy politely removed himself from consideration for performing the wedding before he could be requested, but he did so graciously. Scarlet offered just as graciously to perform the ceremony, and Darla solemnly accepted that.
Darla’s dress was beyond repair, which seemed to give her great satisfaction, and Breck’s suit was no better off.
“We could just get married naked,” Breck suggested cheekily. “Give everyone one last view of what they’ll never get now.”
But Darla punched him in the arm, then rubbed herself in that same spot ruefully. “I am going to wear clothing at my wedding, and it will be clothing I choose. And I really want to brush the blood out of my hair. You can wait another hour after all of this, can’t you?”
Breck crushed her into an embrace. “I would wait a lifetime for you,” he declared seriously.
And it was worth the wait, he decided, watching her walk down the aisle in a bright yellow sundress, the setting sun giving everything a rosy light. Liam was at her side to give her away, and Chef was standing at Breck’s side. “To make sure you don’t run,” Chef said with a knowing laugh, but Breck had no interest in running anywhere but Darla’s arms.
The ceremony was entirely made up on the fly, with a wedding party comprised of anyone who wanted to be in it. Liam’s mother was delighted to be asked to help with a candle-lighting ritual that they came up with on the spot, and his grandmothers offered to serve food at the reception.
“We may not know as much about dragons and all the high falutin customs that Mrs. Grant wanted,” Alison had said warmly as Breck took his spot on the dais. “But we know about mates, and Darla deserves all her happiness.”
As Conall struck familiar notes of a wedding march, Gizelle capered down the aisle in front of the bride and Lydia and Laura walked more sedately, holding flowers.
Scarlet gave a simple, standard civil opening speech and they lit candles together. “Do you have vows?” she asked then.
Breck, gazing at his bride, realized he should have written something. “Yes,” he said anyway. “Darla, I vow to love and treasure you for the rest of my life.” This would have been an appropriate place for flowery vows and sweet nothings, but Breck felt that they were all insufficient compared to the promise in his heart.
Darla smiled back at him, her face perfectly happy as Breck had only had glimpses before.
“Breck, I vow to cherish and adore you until end of all things.”
“Are there rings?” Scarlet asked.
“No rings,” Darla said with a shake of her head. “Just these.” She held up her wrist and Breck mirrored her. The dragonrunes glowed briefly, and they clasped hands.
“By the power vested in me by the nation of Costa Rica, I declare you husband and wife,” Scarlet said solemnly. “You may kiss.”
Darla smiled as he slowly gathered her up into his arms. “You’re going to be dramatic about this, aren’t you,” she guessed quietly, amusement crinkling her face.
“I do have a reputation to maintain,” Breck reminded her.
Then he kissed his bride, deeply, devotedly. It was gentle at first, and the audience applauded politely. Then he wrapped her tighter, and kissed her harder, and she melted into him. By the time he finally released her, with a tapering series of butterfly kisses, she was panting and weak-kneed and Breck was grinning and breathing just as hard.
There were whistles, then, and more enthusiastic cheers.
“Get a room!” Tex called.
“It’s a good thing they waited and got married with clothes on after all,” Travis said in a stage-whisper.
Chapter 43
Darla had expected to hate her wedding reception.
The food would be too rich, the music too staid, the people too stiff.
But the reception she got was filled with bemused laughter, and cheerful music that occasionally ended in, “Gizelle, come back!” as the gazelle shifter forgot she needed to hold onto Conall to allow him to hear his fellow musicians.
A siren sang several songs, the magic in her voice like a caress, and Darla danced around the room in Breck’s perfect arms until Liam stole her away and Lydia took a reluctant Breck for a turn around the floor, braving the scowls of the giant tattooed man whose primary job seemed to be terrifying people.
“I’m really happy for you,” Liam said honestly, as they danced. “I know it didn’t work out perfectly, but you and Breck… you belong together.”
Darla had been trying not to watch Breck too obviously, and she looked earnestly back at Liam now. “You have been so good to me,” she said sincerely. “And I’m sorry you got dragged through so much for so little.”
“It’s not as little as that,” Liam said generously. “Shifting Sands Resort will be a bit of an upgrade from the warehouse on Seventh Avenue.”
“And no one here will care if a mammoth gets unexpectedly loose in the night,” Darla chuckled.
“Graham might,” Liam suggested. “If he ends up trampling the gardens.”
Darla let Liam turn her, and returned to arm’s length. “Do you think you will ever find your own mate?” she asked. Then, thoughtfully, “Would you want one?”
Liam looked down at her a little wistfully. “I’m asexual, but I can’t say I don’t wish I had someone who understands me the way Breck understands you. It’s just that the chances of meeting someone with the same expectations are passingly slim.”
“What are the chances that mates ever meet each other?” Darla challenged. “I wish this for you, Liam. With all my heart I wish it for you.”
Liam pulled her into a warm, grateful embrace as the music ended. “You deserve your happy ever after, Darla. I am so glad you got it.”
Darl
a kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for all you did for me. This could never have happened without you.”
“I’ve already punched one person today, do I have to do it again?” Breck’s eyes were dancing jealously as he reached for Darla’s hands, but the look he exchanged with Liam was all amusement.
Liam politely handed Darla back to him. “I wouldn’t want to put you to the effort,” he said archly. “Nor harm Darla’s knuckles again.”
“That really did hurt,” Darla laughed. “Please don’t punch people if you don’t have to.”
“That was just the excuse I was looking for,” Breck said merrily. “I’ll have to clear my busy schedule of punching people, now.”
For a long glorious song, she circled the room in her new husband’s arms, marveling at the idea that he was her husband, that she wasn’t settling, that it wasn’t temporary, or something that had to be kept secret.
The resort staff certainly seemed to accept her with open arms, and if they had been friendly before, they were like family now that she was one of them instead of merely the meek daughter of a high-maintenance client. When the song ended, Tex trotted her around for another song and gave her all the sage advice that three months of marriage had taught him. She congratulated him on the imminent enlargement of their family and he looked dazzled and turned pink with pleasure.
Next, Travis took her hand for a high energy salsa that left no opening for conversation and before she could look around for Breck afterwards, Chef had claimed her hand for something more staid.
“Thank you so much for everything,” she told him sincerely. “I thought I’d try helping in the kitchen if you approve. Breck taught me how to wash dishes, and I’d like to know more about cooking.”
“You’d be very welcome in my kitchen,” Chef told her kindly, and it didn’t feel like the kind of polite society lie that Darla was so used to. “Can you carry a tune?”
Darla looked at him in surprise. “I had three years of private singing tutors,” she confessed. “They said that I’m not hopeless, but that I’d never have a career of it. Not that my mother would have approved of a career.”
They compared favorite songs eagerly, and at the end of the song, Chef enfolded her in an affectionate, fatherly hug and walked away humming the introduction to a French opera they both knew.
Graham, the grouchy-looking landscaper, took her on one grim, silent trip around the room, and deposited her back at the bar without a single word.
Chapter 44
Breck jealously watched as the rest of the staff thwarted his attempts to steal Darla back for himself, and found himself on the side of the floor next to Liam, who was clearly feeling uncomfortable about the looks being cast at him by a gaggle of giggling housekeepers. They seemed to think that being a jilted groom called for certain comforts.
“Want to dance?” the leopard shifter asked Liam, as Travis stole his wife from a beaming Tex.
“Will it give the wrong impression?” Liam asked cautiously.
“What’s the right impression?” Breck countered.
“Good point,” Liam agreed, and they stepped out gracefully. The dragon shifter was happy to take the lead he was accustomed to, and Breck cheerfully let him.
“Do you think you’ll ever find your own mate?” Breck asked, head swiveling to watch Travis turn Darla.
“Funny, Darla asked me that just now, too,” Liam said, his mouth curling up in amusement.
“What did you tell her?”
“That I like the idea of it, and how happy it’s clearly made her, but I’m not holding my breath,” Liam said matter-of-factly. “Mates seem to have a pretty driving central need… and that’s not something in my repertoire. Maybe it’s not possible.” There was a hint of regret in his voice.
“Do you think that would change, if you met the right person?” Breck had to ask curiously.
“Did meeting Darla make you straight?” Liam pointed out.
Breck furrowed his brow thoughtfully. “I can’t think of anyone but her,” he said slowly. Then he tried to imagine Darla as a man, and what they might do together. “Nope, definitely still bisexual,” he grinned.
“You’re kind of baffling,” Liam said, shaking his head.
“It’s mutual,” Breck agreed without judgement.
But he realized that it didn’t mean anything about their ability to be friends, and, differences aside, he suspected he’d have a strong friend in this man. He was already grateful for the dragon shifter’s friendship with Darla, and admired his generosity with the rest home.
I told you he wasn’t our rival, his leopard reminded him.
“I think there’s someone out there for you,” Breck said confidently. “And this island sure seems to have a way of introducing mates to each other. Maybe they’ll show up at Shifting Sands someday and sweep you off your feet.”
“Without the sweeping, maybe,” Liam said.
The housekeepers were looking pouty and disappointed as they returned to the edge of the dancefloor, and Chef stole Darla before Breck could cut in, grinning at him over her shoulder.
Alison was standing there and Breck gave her a courtly bow. “May I have this dance?” he offered.
“I’m not very good,” she warned him, but Breck gave her his most charming smile and insisted.
She was better than she had given him reason to believe, and became comfortable enough with Breck’s lead that they could even converse.
“I owe you an apology for stealing your son’s wedding,” Breck said sheepishly.
“Pish,” Alison said smartly. “You and Darla were clearly meant to be, and I’m not sorry not be saddled with Darla’s mother for family.”
They laughed together over that, and Breck asked cautiously, “Did you... know that theirs was a marriage of convenience?”
“Oh yes,” Alison said easily. “I knew Liam was asexual before I knew he was a dragon shifter, and he was quite frank with me about their arrangement.”
“He says it was a big surprise for you when he first shifted,” Breck said leadingly, suspecting a humorous story he could use as leverage later.
Alison laughed. “You know what a teenager’s bedroom looks like? Perpetually messy and filled with stuff? Now imagine a very confused dragon stuffed in there, folded floor to ceiling in shimmery coils, with no earthly idea how to get back to human form. We were expecting something a lot smaller.”
Breck coaxed the story from her, and they laughed together. “It was a crash course in everything about dragons,” Alison admitted, as the song came to a close. “Mrs. Grant went on and on about how she researched dragon custom, but she can’t hold a candle to the months of study we went through figuring out how to cope with a several hundred foot flying serpent who couldn’t put a toilet seat down to save his life.”
Breck would have laughed, but he was watching Darla being grimly shuffled to the bar by Graham, and he was utterly caught up in a wave of confused emotion: she was so utterly dear to him, she filled him with longing and fulfillment all at once. He wanted to show her off and hide her away to be only his. He wanted to spend forever unraveling the complexity of everything he felt for her, and he couldn’t believe that she was his.
He was busy watching her instead of minding his feet, and he stumbled into Alison before he realized he was still dancing and the music had stopped. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.
“Your wrist is glowing,” she pointed out.
The dragonrunes were pulsing with light, and Alison frowned at them thoughtfully.
“Unbroken line,” Breck said, rubbing it. “It never did make much sense.” He hadn’t even been thinking about sex.
“Is that what Mrs. Jubilee Grant said?” Alison scoffed. “Amateur. That doesn’t say unbroken line, that says unbroken bond.”
Breck looked down at it, and then across at the gleam on Darla’s wrist across the room. She met his gaze through the dancers and smiled sheepishly down at her wrist.
Someone was cl
inking on a glass in the silence from the music, and Alison gave Breck a little push to start walking to Darla as the others parted between them.
The touch of her fingers as they met in the center of the floor was like magic, and the marks on both their wrists gleamed like moonlight.
Scarlet was standing with her glass raised, and she gave everyone time to find their drinks and join her in a toast.
“We are celebrating a union today,” she said warmly. “Even if it’s not exactly the union we were planning to celebrate.”
The staff and guests laughed.
“Leave it to Breck to steal the bride,” Travis teased.
Everyone laughed harder.
“Yeah, but then he went and got hitched to her,” Tex reminded him, sounding horrified.
“Careful, cowboy,” Laura warned him with laughter in her voice. “Nothing wrong with doing the respectable thing.”
“As if Breck will ever be respectable,” Bastian laughed. He was in a much better mood since his parents had bailed with the most elite of the dragon shifter society guests.
Scarlet cleared her throat and the joshing died down. “It isn’t every day that true mates meet each other, and when they do, it is always worth rejoicing. I am so happy that we could share this day of joining with these two people, and wish them all the best in their continuing lives together as one.”
Breck kissed Darla to applause and cheers.
“Speech, speech!” Travis prodded.
But Breck wasn’t done kissing Darla, and she wasn’t done with him, her arms around his neck and her lush body close against his.
“I think that’s as much of a speech as we’re getting,” Scarlet observed dryly. “Cottage fifteen, you two. The rest of you, we’ll clean this up in the morning. Please enjoy the rest of the food and take a centerpiece back to your room if you desire.”
Breck stopped kissing Darla and took her hands in his own. “Let’s go somewhere without a peanut gallery,” he suggested.