: Epilogue

Matvei smirks at the scent of burning sage in the air that still lingers.

“What’s that supposed to do?” he whispers. We stand in front of each other in the Kopolov family home, holding hands. We’re forgoing most of the pomp and circumstance around our marriage. It’s time we make this official.

“Sage,” I whisper. “Wards off evil, cleanses, and all that.” I shake my head and smirk back. “Your family needs a damn purification, so it’s one small thing we can do.”

“Ahh,” he says, nodding. It’s a small thing. Witchy, he’d call it. But I need to feel like this isn’t just another Bratva transaction, another ceremony of duty. I need to feel like this means something.

I choose him.

He chooses me.

Matvei’s dressed in a tuxedo, looking hot as hell in the fitted black. He looks like the devil himself come to claim me.

Rawr.

I am so ready.

The Kopolov men flank either side in their dark suits, wearing silent stares. Ekaterina Romanova and Polina stand on either side of them, Polina dressed in elegant gray, holding Rafail’s hand. Ekaterina dressed in silver, her matching silver hair pinned like a crown around her head. She catches my gaze and winks at me as if to say you’ve got this.

I don’t have parents anymore, but I’ve got…family. I look at Zoya, her wistful eyes smiling at me and Yana, graceful and poised. Rodion, with his signature smirk, and Semyon, serious as always, but welcoming, which is a lot coming from him.

Rafail steps forward. His gaze sweeps the gathering like a general preparing troops before battle. He doesn’t look at me right away but at Matvei. Then he turns, and his steely eyes land on me with the weight of history behind them.

I know, I know.

“You gave everything in allegiance to this family,” he says to Matvei, his voice rough with command and respect. “And we know what the old laws say. But rules,” he continues, his eyes glinting, “Are written by men who fear change. Laws are rewritten by those not afraid of what lies ahead.” The weight of his gaze falls on Yana. She swallows and gives him a small smile.

My chest tightens. My pulse pounds.

“We’re at war,” he continues. “The Irish will not stop until we’re gone. Destroyed.” He lifts his chin. “But the death of my parents didn’t end us. We’ve stayed together, through every travesty sent our way. And we stand together now.”

His eyes flick to Matvei. “Today, we join Matvei and Anissa together. Their vows will forgive past grievances. All of them.” Matvei’s grip tightens in mine. “Today signifies a joining of two people. A blood oath that fortifies. And after this, the past no longer belongs to us.” He nods to me. “The Kopolov claims you as their own, Anissa. Through your union, we gain strength.”

Matvei’s eyes rake over me, slow and possessive. He reaches out, and I place my hand in his.

His calloused thumb strokes over my knuckles, rough and reverent.

‘Do you accept this bond?’ Rafail asks him.

‘I do,’ Matvei growls. ‘I have always accepted it.’

‘And you?’ Rafail turns to me, his gaze piercing through my bones. ‘Do you swear your blood to the Bratva? As our equal. As family.’

I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. ‘I do,’ I say, my voice steady. ‘I swear it.‘

There is no applause. No cheers. This is not a celebration of innocence.

This is a coronation.

Rafail nods.

Matvei pulls me against him, his hand splayed across my back like a brand as we take our vows. As he slides the thick gold band on my finger and I do the same for him.

His kiss claims me in front of everyone—possessive, bruising, hungry. He kisses me like we’ve already won the war, like he could devour me whole.

I let him.

Because I will burn with him. I choose this.

As Matvei breaks the kiss, he leans close to my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

‘You’re mine now,’ he growls, rough and low. ‘Not just in blood. Not just in name. In every fucking way that matters.’

I smirk, tilting my head. ‘Earn it, big guy.’

His eyes darken. ‘Oh, I will.’

The Irish are coming.

But so are we.