The last rays of sunlight fade, slipping behind the trees, and I know it's time.
I step toward the altar, and let my power rise until it merges with the ancient pulse of the grove.
The earth answers. Night-blooms stir and unfurl, their petals glimmering pale against the gathering dusk. The trees quiver as new buds burst from their branches. The scent of green and life fills the air. Fireflies drift upward in a slow dance, weaving light around us until the place feels suspended between worlds.
My power saturates the grove, and I see the faint discomfort on the vampires' faces. Understandable. Life-force, in its rawest form, is not meant for the dead. But I don't temper it. Sage must feel this. She has to remember that she belongs to life, not to shadow.
"You don't hold back, satyr," Maeve murmurs as I take my place beside her.
"Not for this," I reply, my gaze fixed on the treeline.
And then she appears.
Sage.
One vampire at each side, but in this moment, that no longer matters. It's her I see.
Her dress is simple—white with faint green patterns that swirl like living vines. It clings delicately to her form, accentuating both her beauty and her fragility. When her eyeslift and take in the grove, she stops for a moment. The light, the flowers, the breath of magic—all built from the efforts of those who love her, and from the life that answers my call.
They walk slowly, the three of them, and with each step she takes, I coax the flowers beneath her feet to bloom. Life follows her path, reclaiming her with every breath.
When they reach me, Asher and Kayden each lean in, pressing a kiss to her cheek before stepping aside. They join Ruaidhrí near the altar. He gives me a small, knowing nod. I return it, then turn my attention fully to her.
"Are you ready, my beautiful bride?" I ask quietly.
She swallows hard and nods.
And so it begins.
Maeve's voice rises softly, rhythmic and measured, weaving words that are older than this forest. I barely hear them. Instead, I listen to the rhythm beneath, the hum of nature itself, and amplify it, letting my power entwine with hers, strengthening what Maeve draws forth.
Sage's heartbeat quickens as the ritual deepens. The bond is awakening, layer by layer, old ties find new paths.
When the time comes for the vows, I'm first. I take her hands. They're warm now, not from power but from life itself slowly returning. I draw in a slow breath, steadying what I feel before I speak.
"In my world," I begin, "we did not bind through words. We bound through seasons. A satyr's promise was the patience of growth—to tend, to protect, to wait through drought and frost alike. You have been the spring and the winter to me, Sage. You broke the stillness of my heart that I thought eternal, and even now, standing between life and death, you remain my renewal."
Her eyes shine in the dim light, her lips tremble, but she doesn't speak. I continue, softer, "I vow to stand with you when you are light and when you are shadow. To hold back the darkwhen you cannot. I vow that no matter how the worlds judge what we are, I will always be by your side."
From my pocket, I take the ring forged from the veins of an old tree that fell centuries ago, its shape coiled like a vine. A living circle, grown rather than made.
I slide it onto her finger, beside the two already there. "This one," I tell her, "is not to claim you. It's to remind you that the earth itself still recognizes you."
She exhales shakily, tears glinting at the corners of her eyes. Then she takes a ring from Ru's offered hand, made from the same tree as hers. It's glowing faintly with the light of life.
Her fingers brush mine as she speaks, her voice small but steady.
"I don't have the words you do. I'm not good with poetry or rhymes," she says quietly, almost like she's apologizing. "But I remember what it felt like to be alive with you. And I remember what it was like when that stopped."
Her fingers twitch, but don't let go of mine.
"Even when I left, you didn't. You stayed. In here." She touches her chest. A soft breath. "You never gave up on me, even when I did. And I want to try again, to be worthy of our bond, and to stay by your side. Forever."
She slides the ring onto my finger, and though her hand trembles, her power flickers through it, gentle as new rain.
The grove answers.
Lanterns sway. Fireflies whirl upward like stars being born. The air hums with quiet approval, not thunderous or divine, just a subtle shift in the rhythm of everything living.
