Chapter Fifty-Four
The suite was quiet, the kind of quiet that only came when the rest of the world was busy preparing something behind your back. Avery didn’t know what the boys were up to, but she didn’t care — not right now.
Because Molly was here. And they were alone.
Avery stepped into the bathroom, steam already curling from the shower, and turned to find Molly watching her with that familiar, mischievous glint.
“We don’t get this often,” Avery said softly.
Molly’s smile was slow, warm. “No, we don’t.”
Avery reached for her hand. “Then let’s take it.”
The shower was a sanctuary — warm water cascading over skin, laughter echoing off the tile, fingers tracing marks that still pulsed with fresh magic. They didn’t rush. They didn’t speak much. They just were — two halves of a bond, two hearts that had chosen each other long before the ceremony had made it official.
Avery leaned into Molly’s touch, her forehead resting against hers, and whispered, “I love you.”
Molly kissed her gently, water streaming around them. “I love you too.”
When they stepped out, wrapped in towels and glowing from more than just heat, Molly took charge.
“Sit,” she said, pointing to the vanity stool.
Avery raised a brow. “Bossy.”
“Bonded,” Molly corrected. “Now hush.”
She dried Avery’s hair with careful fingers, then braided and twisted it into something elegant and soft, leaving a few strands loose to frame her face. Her makeup was light but intentional — a sweep of gold across the lids, a touch of rose on the lips, a shimmer that caught the light just enough.
When she was done, she stepped back and nodded. “Perfect.”
Avery turned to look at her. Molly had slipped into her own dress — the shorter version of the emerald sheath — and it hugged her in all the right places, her marks glowing faintly against her skin.
“You look like trouble,” Avery said.
Molly winked. “I’m counting on it.”
Avery slipped into her own dress, the fabric flowing like water, the slit teasing with every step. She turned once in the mirror, then faced Molly.
“Ready?”
Molly grinned. “Let’s go see what our boys have planned.”
Avery stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the emerald sheath over her hips one last time. Her marks shimmered faintly beneath the low neckline, the slit teasing with every shift of her weight. Molly adjusted her own shorter version — playful, daring, and just as striking — then turned with a grin.
“You ready?” she asked.
Avery nodded, then paused. Where are the boys?
She sent the mindlink pulse, quiet and curious.
Where are you?
Kael’s voice came back, warm and amused.
Follow Molly. Trust me.
Avery raised a brow but didn’t question it. Molly linked arms with her, her smile giving nothing away, and together they stepped into the private elevator.
The descent was smooth, the soft hum of magic and machinery blending with the quiet anticipation between them. Avery glanced sideways at Molly, who was practically glowing.
“You’re up to something,” Avery murmured.
Molly just winked. “You’ll see.”
When the elevator doors slid open, the beach unfolded before them like a dream — lanterns swaying in the breeze, a long table draped in ivory linen, candles flickering in glass holders, and the sea stretching out behind it all like a painted backdrop.
But Avery didn’t see any of it at first.
Because standing at the edge of the sand were Lucien, Riven, and Kael — dressed in tailored black, shirts open at the collar, their marks glowing faintly in the candlelight.
And they were speechless.
Lucien’s mouth parted slightly, his eyes locked on Avery like he’d forgotten how to breathe. Riven blinked once, then twice, as if trying to confirm what he was seeing. Kael’s gaze swept over Molly, then Avery, then back again, and he let out a low, reverent whistle.
Avery felt the heat rise in her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. She stepped forward with Molly, the sand cool beneath her feet, the breeze catching the hem of her dress just enough to make it dance.
Lucien finally found his voice. “You look…”
Riven stepped in. “Like magic.”
Kael grinned. “Like trouble.”
Molly laughed, looping her arm through Kael’s. “The good kind.”
Lucien reached for Avery’s hand, pulling her gently into his orbit. “You’re stunning.”
Avery leaned in, her voice low. “You planned this?”
Lucien kissed her knuckles. “We planned it for you.”
The five of them moved toward the table, the candlelight catching on silk and skin, the marks on their bodies glowing like constellations. The night was theirs — romantic, intentional, and wrapped in the kind of love that made even the stars seem dim.
And as Avery sat between Lucien and Riven, her fingers brushing Molly’s across the table, she thought: This is what forever feels like.