And here she was, his fate, his heart, his everything – Gemma Teeley, a goldsmith from Gold Valley.
He could still hardly believe that this was truly happening. To the very last moment, he had been sure something would go wrong. The skies would fall, the earth would crumble, and he would be left without the woman he so adored. The last hurdle had been telling her about his arrangement with the council. That his snap decision to tell her that she had to marry him had come from necessity as much as it had come from the heart.
But that with each moment they spent together, and even more with the time they spent apart, he understood that there could be no other in his life.
It would be her and her alone that his heart would beat for, and without her, he would be a broken dragon and a broken man. It seemed like such a small thing to tell her after what they’d gone through with Remington, but Devon knew that it was the only way their union could be whole. Thankfully, Gemma’s opinion on the matter was the same as his – however it happened, they were glad that it had happened.
Consequences and all.
Apollo nudged him slightly, breaking Devon’s endless reverie – the time was upon them. He nervously cleared his throat. It was the damndest thing. Devon Bluewing had never been nervous in his life before meeting Gemma Teeley, and now it seemed he spent most of his days a little out of his head. It was a small price to pay in the name of sharing his life with her.
He took her hands in his and received a nervous smile in return. He grinned back at her, hopefully reassuring, but feeling just a tad goofy – another thing he’d never been but now didn’t mind. It was a blessing that the ceremony was a short one and more of a formality than something to be worried about (though the shindig he would have to put up for Gold Valley was certainly something that would give him a few gray hairs – most unbefitting for a dragon!), because Devon could give no promises on how long he could keep from throwing Gemma over his shoulder and wandering off to the dungeons with her again.
“Gem, before the dragonkin, before my elders, my ancients and the gold moon, I promise to you my everything. My heart, my body, my mind, my hoard.” The last word was always stressed, as it was arguably the most important commitment a dragon could ever make. He paused, gazing into her gorgeous green eyes. He wanted to be absolutely certain she knew how much she meant to him, in the presence of the council and his elders, who were certainly looking down on him on his happiest of days.
“It is all yours. At your command, they will crumble into dust or conquer the greatest of foes. Do with them as you wish.” Devon squeezed her delicate hands, so cool next to his intense heat. “Do you accept?” he asked, not managing to keep his voice from cracking a little.
His heart leapt as she nodded, the corners of her mouth curved in a little smile, though he could see the tremor that went through her as he spoke each word.
“I do,” she said – the simplest and most beautiful two words that could ever leave her mouth.
“With this stone, I signify all of my offerings to you. Wear it, and I will be yours. Discard it, and I will crumble,” he spoke, letting go of her hands and putting his palms around the dragon stone. The small, odd pendant disappeared in his grasp, and under his breath, he spoke the ancient words. The council echoed every word, each member saying what he said in unison after him.
Dragon magic was a peculiar thing, so powerful on its own, yet so insistent on having others complement it. Perhaps it was one of those safeguards to keep them from slaughtering one another.
Gemma’s skin was invitingly silky against his fingers, and the familiar hunger blazed in him once more, even as he was concentrating on his task. The words came forth, inscribed in the soul of each dragon. The dim, dark glow disappeared, replaced by a bright blue sparkle that crackled between his fingertips, making Gemma gasp. A few moments later, Devon pulled back his hands, revealing a breathtaking sapphire pendant in place of the dragon stone.
From the pendant, gold seemed to seep forward, covering the simple chain that the pendant had been hanging on, until it was brighter than any gold Devon held in his hoard. He knew that if their love blossomed, so too would the gold gleam, and if their love was lost, the gold would mar and turn an ugly shade of brown.
As the last bits of chain were covered with gold, Cillian Greenmeadow whooped, and Apollo patted Devon on the back.
“Never thought I would see the day! Devon Bluewing, an honest dragon!” Apollo chuckled, his wheaten hair falling crazily on his face.
“Indeed,” Alexander agreed, the somber twin inclining his head in congratulation to the newlyweds. Devon grinned like the happiest man in Treasure Lane. He pulled Gemma into his embrace, hugging her against him and covering her mouth with his, kissing her with not just the passion of a lover, but now the belonging of a husband.