The Syndicater: A Dangerous Dark Romance (Dark Verse Book 6)

“What makes night within us may leave stars.” — Victor Hugo

On a bright morning, right on the land where the sea met the shore in Shadow Port, Morana walked down the aisle to the man she loved, ready to become a Caine.

The day she had lost the use of her left arm had been the day Tristan had proposed to her, completely in a way only Tristan could. He had bought a ring the moment he’d found his sister, waiting for the right time and the right proposal, and to both their surprise, it had come in a hospital bed when she’d been breaking down and he’d been stabbed. He had simply sit next to her after she was told her left hand was useless, disabling her for life, and without a word, he had slid the ring on her finger, on the left hand.

The symbolism of it hadn’t escaped her, and she had cried even more.

Life had been… different since then. Between dealing with the trauma dump on him and the physical adjustments for her, they’d found a new normal.

A new normal where she’d learned skills all over again with just her right hand. So what if she could only type with one hand? She used voice commands better now. So what if it took her longer to knot his tie? He stood patiently, watching her with the love she knew he felt in his heart. He’d never said the words to her, and she didn’t think she ever would, but it didn’t matter to her because he showed her every second of every day.

It felt right, taking vows next to the sea they had connected, watching the constant flow of the water, a symbol of the ebb and flow of life, doing it on land that once held their traumas and leaving it behind in the past, walking to a better, brighter future together.

Morana walked down the aisle, holding Dante’s steady arm. The fact that he had been outside her dressing room, ready to walk her down, had touched her so deeply that she had almost broken down crying, much to the shrieking of Zephyr, who had just finished her hair and makeup and told her it wasn’t waterproof. She had been dealing with trauma of her own, but as heavily pregnant as she was, she’d still managed to be excited for the wedding.

Dante took small steps to accommodate her gait in heels and the fact that she was burdened by the heaviest fucking gown on the planet, almost twice her weight. It really hadn’t been Morana’s first choice, but then Amara had said, ‘You’ll only get married once,’ and Morana had said fuck it and gone for the most extravagant gown. Amara had been right. She wouldn’t get married again, not in this lifetime. Her last breath, her death, was going to belong to him.

She looked at the guests, just a family she had made for herself—Alpha and a very pregnant Zephyr. Amara, also pregnant, with a cute Tempest by her side, along with Zia. Xander, standing next to Tristan in a smart-looking suit, was finally a legal part of their core family, their little puppy in his arms. And Lyna—as she’d legally changed her name to—with Shadow Man, aka Blackthorne—whose real name she still didn’t know. He had taken over The Syndicate in the last six months, and Morana still didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad one. It was too soon to tell.

And at the end of the aisle, Tristan waited for her, looking at her with those magnificent blue eyes that never lost their intensity. He still looked at her the same, like she was everything he never knew he needed, but with a violent edge that set her heart racing. She walked to him, and he took her hand. Dante kissed her on the cheek before joining Amara.

Tristan gazed at her as the officiant began speaking, saying no words but everything until he said the words that made her bawl:

‘When it comes to death, you’re mine.’

It was a simple, small ceremony. It was perfect.

And then, he kissed her, savoring her, devouring her, claiming her for the world to see. He didn’t take a ring since his tattoo was his, and after she was pronounced Morana Caine—a name she had chosen for herself too—he handed her a box.

‘Your wedding gift.’

Morana opened it, yelping in joy as a tiny little kitten with rounded ears and yellow eyes gazed up at her.

Her family cheered. She smiled up at him, wondering how she got lucky enough to fall in love with her enemy, how he had fallen in love with the only girl he’d hated. But that was their story, wasn’t it?

Tristan and Morana, inseparable existence and all.