170

[REBECCA]
My body stirred, awakening slowly from slumber. The distant symphony of birdsong serenaded my senses, infusing a tranquil aura into my awakening. As consciousness graced me, I found myself enveloped in a cocoon of warmth, a secure haven.
Artemy’s arm draped around me, a protective and almost possessive gesture as we lay entwined. Spooned against his form, I reciprocated with a gentle touch, my hand finding its place over his. A serene smile adorned my lips as his fingers danced over my exposed skin beneath the soft embrace of a blanket, a silent testament to his caring watch over my rest.
Shifting within his embrace, I turned to meet his gaze. His eyes already fixated on me, his countenance radiating tranquility.
“Hey,” his voice murmured, tugging me closer against the soft curve of his belly.
I inquired, my hand traversing his visage, exploring the coarse terrain of his stubble, a delicate scratch against his chin.
“About an hour and a half. It seems I’ve managed to exhaust you. I had imagined we could go on for hours,” Artemy jested, his azure eyes igniting with playful mischief. A gentle poke to his cheek ensued.
“Although I am quite famished,” I confessed, a shiver rippling through me as he relinquished the blanket, exposing me to the brisk air. I hastened to cocoon myself once more.
Artemy’s wink accompanied the presentation of my dress, his attire already in place. A sight both bittersweet and delightful he looked absolutely delectable in his suit.
With a deft motion, the blanket withdrew, his hand tenderly encompassing my rounded stomach. Leaning down, a kiss graced the expanse just above my navel, and in response, Princess stirred within me.
Amused chuckles resonated from Artemy. “A fighter, indeed,” his whisper brushed my belly.
Further kisses followed, and his attentiveness transitioned to assisting me with donning my dress. Settled against the plush pillows, Artemy unveiled a basket, Nona’s handiwork within.
“Nona has crafted sandwiches for us. Though I fear they might have cooled by now,” he offered.
Shrugging, I plunged into the basket, devouring a bite in mere moments. “Starving,” I managed between mouthfuls.
One raised eyebrow from Artemy and a subsequent nonchalant shrug.
Our intimacy intensified, wrapped in each other’s arms, savoring the silence. As the basket emptied, weariness began to weigh upon me. “I think I may have overindulged,” I mused, my eyelids drooping.
“You certainly did,” Artemy affirmed with a chuckle. “It seems Princess shared your appetite.”
A nod followed, and I gently withdrew from our embrace. “Shall we proceed? I suspect the others await.”
Rising with his assistance, his arms instinctively encircled my hips. An ardent kiss transpired, both fierce and passionate.
“You, Rebecca, ignite my ardor,” his words resonated against my lips. “In your presence, all I yearn for is to cherish you with my kisses, to make love to you in a manner that imprints only my image upon your thoughts.”
I melted within his arms, his declaration setting my heart aflutter. “I’m undecided if that’s incredibly endearing.”
Kisses followed, unrelenting, breathless. An ardent affection in his gaze, he confessed, “I wish to be the first image you perceive upon waking and the last thought before slumber claims you. In truth, I desire to occupy your thoughts ceaselessly.”
My hand found solace upon his heart, the heart he had so wholeheartedly offered. “You needn’t doubt. For you reside within my thoughts always, Artemy. Even in the realm of dreams, you are my constant companion.”
“Excellent,” he breathed, a breathtaking smile gracing his lips, stealing my very breath.
In that profound instant, I comprehended my yearning: an unquenchable desire to witness that smile in perpetuity. I would willingly traverse any path to be bestowed with that resplendent, jubilant expression time and again.
Artemy intertwined our fingers together, creating an unbreakable bond as we strolled back to the house, emanating the aura of a newly united couple.
Although lacking official documentation, the weight of our commitment superseded the need for formal recognition. Our vows had been exchanged, our hearts melded, and the truth of our marital status was undeniable.
Upon reaching the entrance, Artemy’s steps halted, and a smile danced across his lips. With a hint of amusement, he remarked, “I can’t skip this part. Lynda might just plot my demise in my sleep.” His words were accompanied by a gentle chuckle.
In response, my eyes widened, and a light giggle escaped as he enfolded me in his embrace. My hands naturally found their place around his neck, holding him close with a sense of belonging.
Cradling me in his arms, Artemy carried us across the threshold. Cheers erupted as we crossed into the house, enveloping us in an exuberant celebration. Only when we were in the living room did he relinquish his hold.
The room was a sea of joyful faces, forming a circle around us, radiating laughter, smiles, and an overwhelming surge of affection.
This family was more than just a desire; it was a necessity, for both myself and my daughter. Their presence was a balm to my soul, an unspoken promise of unwavering support and love.
Gently lowering me to the floor, Artemy watched with a fond gaze as Lynda approached. Her embrace was tight and sincere, tears glistening in her eyes but refusing to fall. “Congratulations, babe,” she whispered, her voice carrying a heartfelt sincerity.
Nona and Camilla followed suit, their embraces exuding happiness that resonated deeply within me. As they released me, I whispered my gratitude.
In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of Artemy sharing embraces with his male companions. Amidst hearty laughter and friendly punches, the camaraderie was evident.
Artemy returned to my side, our shared gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before us. The jubilation of our love was palpable, even catching the attention of Howard and Damian, who observed from a distance with warm smiles.
As the jubilation settled into a calm embrace, Brayden, Leon, and Avim moved forward purposefully. Standing in a line a few feet away, their presence commanded attention. Behind them, Artemy’s loyal associates gathered, their unwavering loyalty palpable.
Bernadette, once concealed in the shadows, emerged to stand beside Avim, aligning herself with Artemy’s trusted circle. The atmosphere grew charged, a hint of seriousness permeating the air, a stark contrast to the preceding joy.
Abruptly, the atmosphere shifted, and they each produced a small knife, each one holding it with a sense of reverence. The sight of the knives gripped my attention, an undercurrent of anticipation tingling down my spine.
Seeking reassurance, I glanced at Artemy, finding pride reflected in his eyes. He leaned in for a tender kiss, his whispered words brushing against my ear, “You are their Queen.”
Baffled yet intrigued, I voiced my curiosity, “What’s happening?”
With synchronized purpose, the quartet stepped forward, their movements wordlessly compelling. My lips nervously moistened as I awaited an explanation, my heart’s rhythm accelerating as they drew closer.
Then, in a display of deep reverence, they knelt, one knee pressed to the ground. Their actions were mirrored by those behind them, heads bowed in deference.
A plea for them to rise tumbled from my lips, but Artemy’s gentle shake of his head indicated otherwise. “Let them proceed, Rebecca. It’s a ritual of great significance,” he explained, directing my attention back to the kneeling figures.
Even Bernadette had joined them, a show of solidarity that humbled me. Lynda’s smile was radiant, Nona’s eyes glistened with emotion.
Brayden elevated the dagger, its handle adorned with crimson crystals and an emblem etched onto the blade. His gaze locked onto mine, and with conviction, he began to speak.
The cadence of his voice was commanding, his words carrying the weight of a sacred vow. However, confusion flickered across my features as the language shifted, his speech now woven in Russian.
My gaze tracked the blade as it pressed into his palm, a line of scarlet marking the pledge. My heart quickened its tempo, each beat resounding in my chest.
I sensed Artemy’s presence behind me, his arms enfolding me in a secure embrace. A soft exhalation brushed against my ear as he conveyed Brayden’s words to me.
“I pledge to shield you, as your guardian, my existence devoted to safeguarding yours. I bleed in your defense. Your life transcends mine. In every conceivable aspect, you are my Queen. This blood seals my oath.”
Upon Brayden’s conclusion, Leon replicated the gesture, a cut on his palm accompanied by the same solemn recitation. Avim and Bernadette followed suit, each consecrating their commitment to me.
Rooted in awe, I stood immobilized, a silent witness to their vows that were now woven into the air around us. Once they had finished, the companions behind them united in their shared blood bond, their resounding voices resonating throughout the house.
In the aftermath of the profound moment, Brayden, Leon, Avim, and Bernadette placed their blades at my feet, inclining their heads in unison. Artemy’s voice nudged me forward. “They await your words,” he murmured, his support like a gentle nudge.
What words could suffice? Never had I imagined such a tableau as this, an assembly of resolute men kneeling before me, their pledges surpassing their own lives.
Shocked and overwhelmed, my voice eluded me, but they patiently bided their time for my response. More than that, they awaited my command.
With Artemy’s hand steadfastly in mine, his unwavering strength lending me courage, I found my voice.
“Please, rise. All of you,” I entreated softly.
Tears welled, obscuring my view as they stood as one.
“This is unnecessary,” I continued. “I don’t seek this. Your lives needn’t be tied to my well-being. It doesn’t work that way. We are a family. My marriage to Artemy doesn’t render any of you lesser.”
Artemy’s hold around me tightened. “It’s our tradition, Rebecca. A ritual cherished for centuries. For every Queen embraced into this fold, our men consecrate their lives to hers. My mother was no exception. And now, it’s your turn. Someday, it will be our son’s wife. Or our daughter’s.”
Brayden stepped forward, his gaze fixed on me. “This tradition holds profound meaning for us, Rebecca. Grant us this wish. Permit us to serve you as you deserve.”
“The love you all extend is more than enough. I don’t require protectors; I need friends. A family,” I confessed through tearful eyes. “I never truly had a family. But this-this assembly fulfills all my needs. Nothing else. Nothing more.”
Brayden’s smile bore an unspoken plea as his gaze flicked to Artemy. Returning his attention to me, his eyes spoke volumes.
In a tender gesture, he brushed a kiss upon my forehead. “You already have us all.”
Drawing back, he displayed his bloodied palm. “This signifies unity. We’re now a family, indivisible. If you permit, consider this our pledge to you.”
My heart constricted, and a flutter from within signaled Princess’s response. A solitary tear traced my cheek, my gaze locked with Brayden’s. The surge of emotions left me momentarily speechless.
My eyes swept to the others, their gaze a collective expectation. Drawing a steadying breath, I gazed at each in turn before finally nodding. “Alright.”
A collective sigh seemed to ripple through their shoulders, relief evident in their posture. My acceptance, it appeared, was their long-awaited affirmation.
“I love you, Angel,” Artemy murmured softly into my ear, his words an intimate secret shared between us alone. With closed eyes, I surrendered myself to his embrace, allowing his strength to cradle me. “I am endlessly proud of you. Every single time, you leave me in absolute awe.”
The resonance of emotions carried through the air, mingling with Camilla’s voice that followed. “These kinds of rituals have a way of touching the heart,” her words rang out, punctuated by chuckles and shared laughter from those around.
My eyelids fluttered open, revealing Lynda who delicately pressed her hand against her mouth, barely holding back her tears. And then, with an air of change, she made her announcement. “It seems the only act left is the wedding ceremony!”
A sharp retort came from Artemy, his protective instincts taking the forefront. “We are already wed,” he countered.
Lynda’s tears disappeared as swiftly as they had appeared, replaced by a stern glare directed at my partner.
Inwardly, I cringed, sensing a brewing storm beneath the surface of their exchange.
“I mean a formal wedding,” Lynda’s voice dripped with emphasis, her gaze unwavering.
“Are you suggesting that Rebecca and I are not truly married?” Artemy’s tone carried a challenge.