The chatter faded as Bronc and Juliet took their places in front of the altar. Juliet looked like she’d walked out of a magazine, her gold dress shining, hair swept to one side in a cascade of soft curls. Bronc wore a dark tailored suit and looked so proud I thought he might burst.
Papa, my Papa, stood at the front, in his gorgeous black suit, vest and white shirt; silk tie shimmering slightly. He held a battered black folder in his hands. When he raised his eyes, the whole crowd fell silent.
“Family, friends, honored guests,” he began, and his beautiful voice carried all the way to the back row, calm as water over stone. “We gather tonight to celebrate the union of Liam Bronc Baucaum and Juliet Marie Bettencourt—a love forged in battle, tested by fate, and sealed by the moon itself.”
His eyes found Juliet, then Bronc. “Some of you came from afar. Some of you walked down the road. But everyone of youis here because you believe in something worth fighting for. In this pack, we don’t choose the easy road. We choose each other. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard. We don’t believe in backing down or backing away.”
Juliet blinked hard, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Bronc just squeezed her hand tighter.
Papa went on. “The Great Creator formed us, and the Goddess of the moon made us what we are, and she created a specific person fated to be our other half, our mate. It’s the one thing that’s truly sacred, even when the rest of the world forgets what sacred means. A few of us are fortunate enough to find that person. Bronc is one of those lucky ones, for if ever there was a wolf who was fated to belong to someone, Juliet was made for this man.”
He looked around the crowd, making eye contact with every king, every outcast, every wolf in the audience.
“We all come from somewhere. We all carry scars. But the only thing that matters is what we build together. Bronc and Juliet, you’ve already proven your love; already claimed each other. Tonight, you just make it official before the world.”
He motioned for them to face each other, keeping their hands joined. The moon was just cresting the trees, silver light catching the edge of the altar, and for a second it seemed like all time had stopped.
“Juliet, will you take Bronc to be your mate? To share your strength, your laughter, your hope, and your sorrow? Will you be a support to him and this pack as his love, his helper, his Luna, for all the days you walk this earth?”
Juliet’s voice was clear, strong. “I will, with all my heart.”
“Bronc, will you take Juliet as your mate? To be her shield, her safe place, her protector, her partner, for every sunrise and every storm? Will you support her as she stands by you as you lead this pack into the future?”
Bronc didn’t hesitate. “I will, as long as I have breath.”
“Then by the bond of pack, by the witness of the Goddess of the moon and stars, and by the blood we have shed for each other, I pronounce you true mates for now and all eternity.” Papa closed the folder, a smile crinkling his eyes. “You may now kiss your mate.”
The clearing exploded with howls, applause, even a few tears from the tough old wolves in the back. Bronc dipped Juliet in a kiss so dramatic it made even the vampires cheer. Oscar tugged at my sleeve, dabbing at his tiny eyes with a napkin.
“I’m so happy for them,” I whispered, feeling a stupid rush of joy.
Savannah leaned over, voice soft. “He did a beautiful job.”
I smiled, a feeling of pride filling my heart. “He did, didn’t he?”
She looked at me, her green eyes softer than I’d ever seen. “Feels good, doesn’t it? The first time Menace looked at me like I was more than just a pawn. The first time I realized the world could be bigger than the life I’d been handed. It seemed almost too big.”
I swallowed, nodding. “It’s just… overwhelming.”
She smiled. “Let yourself be overwhelmed, darling. It’s how you know you’re alive.”
The crowd started to stand, chairs scraping dirt and voices rising. Maddie grabbed my hand. “Don’t forget to grab some brisket before these wolves devour it.”
I was pulled to the food table, with Oscar riding on my shoulder. For once, I wasn’t just surviving. I was in the middle of the story. I was someone’s mate, someone’s miracle. Even if I just came into my magic. I felt it in my bones; I knew it was there, rising up. I felt more powerful every day, and I knew I was ready to make some magic of my own.
As I watched the guests line up for food—kings, vampires, wolves, every one of them smiling—I thought about the journey from Georgia to Texas, from outcast to pack, from loneliness to this blinding, ridiculous happiness. I’d never understood the power of a family, or of a mate, until now. And I was never letting it go.
Papa caught my eye from across the clearing. He smiled, and every doubt in me went quiet.
A feeling of family washed over me.
Pearl’s crew outdid themselves. They’d parked two giant smokers behind the reception tent and spent the last twelve hours working them like a pair of atomic clocks. The result was enough brisket, sausage, and chicken to feed a small army, plus tubs of potato salad, coleslaw, beans, and every kind of roll and bun imaginable. Even the vampires ate: rare roast beef, slices of blood orange arranged like tiny suns. Lucia hovered near the table, eyeing the buffet with the polite hunger of a woman who could eat any man in the room but didn’t want to mess up her lipstick.
I was so busy watching I didn’t even get a plate for myself. I just hung out at the cake table, taking in the scene. I loved hearing the chatter. “The lemon’s from scratch,” “The buttercream’s not too sweet,” “That icing will make you see God.” Parker took two pieces and then circled back for a third, blushing as she told me, “I have zero self-control. I’d eat the entire cake if I could.” Her little dog Rocket trailed at her feet, eating every scrap that fell to the ground. His little tongue hung at an odd angle out of his mouth. He was so ugly he was cute. Oscar gave her a tiny bow and told her he’d make her a cake justfor herself someday. There were servers cutting and plating, so I was free to mingle.
At one point, King Menace strode up to my table, took a bite of the chocolate, and said, “Goddamn, Waters. If you ever need a job in Missouri, let me know.” He clapped me on the back so hard I almost face-planted into the buttercream, but it was worth it for the look of pure, wolfish joy on his face. Savannah followed, plate in hand, and leaned in conspiratorial: “He’s not allowed very many sweets at home. You’re going to make me the villain.” Her smile said she didn’t mind one bit.
Kazimir picked delicately at the candied violets, then motioned to his daughter. “Try the citrus,” he murmured, and Lucia did, eyes lighting up with every bite. “You have gift, miss,” she said. “I never expected cake to taste like sunlight.” Her Russian accent wasn’t as heavy as her father’s but definitely colored her smoky voice.
