The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

Just when I thought I was going to crack under the pressure of it all, Viggo walked in, and everything just… stopped. It just did.

He looked amazing, with his crisp, perfect uniform and his long dark hair pulled back. For a second I felt like I couldn’t breathe—couldn’t even think—as I stared at him. Like he’d literally stolen the air straight out of my lungs just with his entrance. It was the traditional entrance for a Matrian wedding: the groom entered while the bride watched. He’d done it for me, without hesitation or any sign of balking, and I loved him all the more for it.

We stared at each other for a long moment, and then Viggo moved purposefully over toward me, his long legs tearing up the floor to be by my side, reminding me of why the women of Matrus wanted their intended husbands to come to them, instead of the other way around. He walked with purpose and determination, no hesitation, both eager and confident to make his way to his soon-to-be-bride, in a way that made my heart pound heavily against my ribcage. As he moved, a thousand images and memories flooded through my head. All I could think was about was how we met—clutching his waist as I rode with him on his motorcycle through a peaceful Patrus, the long night he’d stayed by my side to nurse me back to health after I’d been bitten by the centipede in The Green, the sight of him when he’d opened the door to rescue me from the torture chamber that Tabitha had imprisoned me in when she’d put the knife through my hand. Those thoughts should’ve assuaged the bats flying around in my stomach, but they didn’t—they just made them swoop harder.

The only thing that brought me some calm was when Viggo reached out his hand to me. As soon as his hand was in mine, I immediately relaxed, melting under his steady touch. He smiled at me, giving a nervous chuckle, and I realized I hadn’t been the only one feeling that way. Even in separate rooms, across the compound from one another, we’d been having the same anxieties, contemplating this step toward our future together—and I realized that if Viggo and I had gotten through so many horrible things together, we could certainly get through this wonderful one.

Looking around the room, I confirmed that everyone was there: Tim, Owen, Jay, Quinn, Thomas, Solomon, Cody, Ms. Dale, Henrik, Amber, Logan, Drew, Mags, Morgan, Dr. Tierney, Alejandro, Jenny, Cad, Margot, Henry and Sarah, April, Cruz… the Liberators and refugees who had become close to us… and I couldn’t help but feel incredibly loved. Not just by Viggo, but by all of them. I was closer to some of them than others, and some of the invitations, like Drew, and Logan, if I were being honest, had been political or polite more than anything else, but still… We had fought together and lost people together, and that was not insignificant to me.

It was so touching to have family there—at a life event I never thought I’d have in a thousand years—and I was surprised to find myself tearing up as I looked at them.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice constricting a little bit. “I’m not even sure why I’m crying.”

“Because this is your last chance to make the right choice and run for your life,” Amber declared as she stood up and crossed over to me, passing me a handkerchief that I immediately used to dab my eyes. “You really are too good for this Croft fellow—if that is even his real name, after all.”

Amber’s catty remark made me laugh through the tears, and I continued to dab my eyes and cry, but I felt lighter on the inside than I could even describe. I pulled her in close for a hug, whispering a thank you, but she didn’t reply, just squeezed me a little tighter before letting me go.

“Not nice, Amberlynn,” Viggo said, emphasizing her name. “I’ll get you for this.”

She winked at Viggo, and then patted me on the cheek. “You’ll do great at this,” she whispered before slipping back toward her seat in front of Logan. “You and him both.”

“All right, is everyone here?” asked Morgan, putting down her notebook and dragging my attention over to her. I nodded, and she smiled. “Then we should get started?”

That earned another nod from me. I was too afraid to open my mouth for fear of shouting “I do!” as loud as possible, just to get it over with.

Morgan sucked in a deep breath, seeming to take a moment to calm herself, and then stood in front of the group, a little set apart, and began to speak.

“So… Well, when I was taught this aspect of Matrian duty, there were some specific phrases and terminologies included that I just… I don’t feel capture the relationship between Viggo and Violet at all. Those words were intended for a traditional Matrian/Patrian wedding solution, which I feel doesn’t reflect the nature of the bond you two share. So if you’ll allow me a little leeway, I’m going to change it up a little bit.”

“No objections from us,” replied Viggo, and Morgan smiled.

“Excellent.” Thumbing through her notebook, she took one last look at what she had written, and then closed the book. “In a time where chaos and violence are pretty much the economy in the world we live, Viggo Croft and Violet Bates have managed to find each other, defying the obstacles in their paths and pushing forward, for each other and for the people they lead. Their love is like a flame, and we are the moths that are circling above it, trying to warm ourselves on the light they produce in each witty joke and each shared smile. Most of us will never know a love like theirs—not as intimately or passionately.”

She looked around the room for a moment, her fingers flipping the page, and then she continued.

“Viggo Croft, do you promise to love Violet Bates? Do you promise to always communicate with her, act as her sword and shield, care for her well-being above your own, and above all, treat her as your partner and equal, for as long as you both shall live?”

Viggo’s gaze never wavered, but the smile on his lips grew even broader. “I do,” he said, his voice rumbling over me.

“Violet Bates, do you promise to love Viggo Croft? Do you promise to always communicate with him, act as his sword and shield, care for his well-being above your own, and above all, treat him as your partner and equal, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” I breathed.

“The rings?” she asked, and I turned to see Tim standing before us, his eyes aglow, the open box in his hands displaying Henrik’s rings. “Viggo, if you have anything you would like to say to Violet as you place the ring on her finger, now is the time.”