I don't say anything, just crouch and place my hands on the soil and let the magic do what I can't put into words. Wild blooms push through the earth, curling around the headstones. It's not enough. It can never be. But it's something.
My chest tightens, that sharp stab of grief hitting like it's brand new. But the three men behind me, watching quietly, giving me space, make it a little easier to breathe through it.
By the time we get to the bar, the afterparty is in full swing. Donna's trying to drag Tomas into some awkward, offbeat dance. Astrid and Ru are locked in a vicious arm-wrestling match, both glaring as if it were a duel to the death. Maeve watches from the corner, sipping something and smiling like this is all vaguely amusing.
Seeing them laugh, even after everything, softens something in me.
I hang my coat and head toward the bar. Jace is there, no fancy white shirt this time—just flannel and jeans. When he sees me, he grins.
"Congrats. Sorry I missed the forest vows," he says. "Someone had to keep the lights on here."
"It's okay," I say. "Thanks for hosting the afterparty. I can see you dressed to blend in this time, not to impress."
He snorts. "Yeah. I got enough side-eyes from customers to last a lifetime. It was becoming distracting." Then, quieter, a little more real: "And maybe it was time to stop pretending I didn't give a damn about this place."
I smile, warmer this time. "I'm glad. Winston would be proud of you."
His grin falters. He nods. "Yeah."
There's a silence I feel like I should fill. I glance at the floor, then back at him. "Jace… about everything that happened—"
"No." He cuts me off, shaking his head. "No apologies. I'm guessing you've been on a bit of a guilt tour lately."
"You're not wrong," I admit, with a crooked smile. "It's been a busy week of regret and emotional damage control."
"Then give it a break for tonight," he says. "You're here. So are we. That counts for something."
I nod slowly, his words chipping away a little of the guilt I'm carrying.
"Look, I'm not gonna do the blame game," Jace adds, resting his elbows on the counter. "You weren't yourself. Shit happened. It happens. Blame just rips people apart. I've seen it—my pack tried that once, and those wounds never fully healed. Better to forgive, forget, and maybe… give things a second chance." His eyes flick to Kayden for a moment and then back to me.
I huff a quiet laugh. "Look at you, all wise and philosophical."
He smirks, puffing his chest a little. "Gotta be. I'm the alpha now."
My eyes widen. "Wait—really?"
He nods, and for a split second his eyes flash that darker amber-yellow. Pride sits easy on him, but it's still new and raw.
"Well, this calls for a drink," I say.
"This calls for tequila," he declares, pulling out the bottle and two shot glasses like a man on a mission.
"Uh, with a few shots of that, you'll be picking me up off the floor," I warn.
He grins. "Then I'll consider it cardio."
We clink glasses and down the first shot. It burns hard but in a good way. He immediately pours another. I raise a brow.
"One more," he says. "For your marriage. The second one. Or is it the third one? I don't know how to count them. Anyway, you're officially bonded to two unhinged psychos and one questionably redeemable vampire. Honestly, Sage, you're the craziest of the bunch for choosing all of them."
I snort, laughing. "I'll drink to that."
We knock back the second shot, and I put my glass away before he can pour a third. "That's it. I want to remember tonight."
I leave the bar and drift back to the others. My husbands are surrounded—Kayden in the middle of a loud story, Asher looking like he's pretending not to enjoy himself. Darius talking to Ru, who is nursing his sore arm with an exaggerated motion. Donna and Astrid are arguing about music choices, Tomas shaking his head like a tired parent.
For a moment, I just stand there, watching.
