Wilting Violets (Sons of Templar MC – New Mexico #2) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC - New Mexico Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 142818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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Mine.

That fucking angel was mine.

She glowed with happiness, tears shining in her eyes as she clutched onto Swiss. It was only through sheer force of will that I remained standing, that I didn’t fall to my knees watching her walk toward me.

“She’s beautiful, man,” Hades leaned in to say into my ear.

Even Hades, the baddest motherfucker to walk the earth was affected. I noted that with detachment. All of my attention was on her, my fists at my sides, anxious to yank her out of Swiss’s arms and into mine.

They stopped in front of us.

Violet was beaming. She was the fucking sun itself.

She leaned in to kiss her stepfather on the cheek before leaping into my arms.

She fucking leapt into my arms. It was only because she was my whole fucking world that I got my bearings enough to catch her, my arms tight, reveling in her warmth, in her scent, the feel of our daughter between us.

I lifted her up, content to hold her forever.

But I was also mindful of the fact that I wanted her as my wife. So slowly, I set her down on her feet.

“You’re the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen,” I whispered.

She reached up to wipe the tears from my face. Ones I wasn’t ashamed of in the fucking slightest. “You too,” she whispered back.

Someone cleared his throat. My head turned to Hansen, and I realized we might’ve been standing there staring at each other for some time.

“Wanna get married now?” he asked with a grin.

My arms tightened around Violet, and I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it.

“Fuck yes, we are.”

There were chuckles all around at the most perfect woman to walk the earth cursing like that.

I kept hold of her while I made her mine forever.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

VIOLET

I was not the girl who imagined her wedding in great detail. I had not given it a thought. No scrapbooks or Pinterest pages. None of my many fantasies included a wedding.

But if I had spent my life dreaming up my perfect day, it would’ve been today.

Somehow, Sariah had managed to erect an oasis in the desert on the land our home was being built on.

Complete with a huge, portable trailer that included bathrooms. Actual bathrooms.

Mismatched antique rugs formed the aisle, long benches on either side with lanterns and large vases of dried flowers flanking them.

To the right were long tables fully set up for what I guessed was our reception. One table with two comfortable armchairs that I assumed were for Elden and myself.

I took all of this in when I got out of the car, in absolute, complete shock.

Swiss’s eyes were shining as he took my arm. “You look gorgeous, Violet,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

I might’ve said something to him... I was sure I did, but my eyes found the arch at the end of the aisle. Or rather the man standing at the end of the aisle, wearing black slacks and a shirt underneath his cut. The man who I might’ve sprinted to if Swiss’s arm hadn’t been linked with mine. The man who looked like I was his everything. Who cried when he saw me walking toward him.

The ceremony passed in a blur. All I remembered, all that mattered was that Elden’s hands were on me the entire time, and I said, “I do.”

There were cheers all around, and to Sariah’s dismay, no gunshots. There was incredible food. There was laughter and toasts, even my grandparents were here, surprising us with news of the vacation home they’d bought and were going to be at by the time I gave birth.

Elden’s hand on my thigh during dinner moved higher and higher until it got to the point where it was either let him take me into the desert to fuck me—which I would’ve totally done—or take me home.

Elden, obviously slightly more sensible than me, took me home. The party in the desert was likely to rage on to the wee hours by the looks of it.

We said our goodbyes to our family, and very barely made it home before ripping each other’s clothes off.

My lovely wedding dress was in a pile by the front door.

I likely should’ve gone to retrieve it to hang it with the reverence it deserved. But I no longer had use of my limbs, and I was tangled up in my bed with my husband.

My fucking husband.

I was a wife.

Soon to be a mother.

Those thoughts no longer filled me with unease or dread. They wrapped around me, settled into a place deep inside.

We hadn’t spoken in a long time. What else was there to say?

“Didn’t believe in a higher power,” Elden eventually murmured, cutting through the silence. “But I have to since all the sins I’ve committed, the lives I’ve taken and ruined…I still get you.” He stroked my face. “It’s impossible. But fuck, am I grateful for whatever it is that gave you to me. Every single year, every single minute I spent locked up, I’d do it over again in a heartbeat. So I could be right here.”



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