"I'd like that."
"And your grandmother's veil—you could wear that too. Something old, something borrowed?—"
"Something blue," Astrid chimes in. "I have a blue garter you could borrow. Wore it when I married Geirolf."
"See?" Charm beams through her tears. "It's all coming together already."
We spend the next hour talking about the wedding.
As evening approaches, the mood shifts.
The men emerge from their preparations.
Dressed in dark clothes.
Weapons holstered.
The wedding talk fades away and reality crashes back.
This is it.
Gunnar finds me in the common room.
He takes my hand and leads me outside.
We stand in the parking lot, surrounded by bikes and trucks, the setting sun painting everything gold and orange and red.
Like fire, like blood.
"It's time," he says.
"I know."
"We'll be back by morning. Maybe sooner if everything goes smoothly."
"Does anything ever go smoothly?"
He almost smiles.
"Sometimes."
I step closer.
Press my hands against his chest and feel his heart beating beneath my palms.
Strong.
Steady.
Alive.
"I'm scared," I admit.
"I know."
"I can't lose you."
"You won't."
