When Aine asks me to do the same to Punky, I repeat the vows, my voice trembling because this day will be one I cherish and remember for the rest of my days. The ring is a perfect fit. He is mine. And I am his. Seeing him wear a wedding ring, my ring, does something to me which I never anticipated.
I feel whole; for the first time in my life, I’m complete.
“I now pronounce ye husband and wife. You may kiss—”
Aine doesn’t even have a chance to finish her sentence because Puck swoops forward and slams his mouth to mine. I stand on tippy-toes, threading my arms around his nape as we seal our union with an affectionate kiss.
“Mine,” he whispers against my lips, his possessive tone doing things to me, which turns my cheeks a bright red.
“Congratulations,” Aine says, truly happy for me.
“T
