Ember tilted her head up to meet his eyes. Stepping back would offer easier eye contact, but she seemed opposed to distance. “I figured you’d have some wolf token, not want to mimic the vanillas.”
“We have two, one for each ring finger. The one for the left hand is a traditional wedding ring, for human appearances. The one for the right hand is a puzzle ring that interconnects with your mate’s.”
“Just a second ring, that’s it?” Ember said. “No wearing a lock of each other’s hair, no branding, no pressing sliced arms together for a blood ritual beneath the night sky—”
“If this is some rumor from your friend the vampire—”
Quinn laughed. “That does sound like Claire.”
“So, without rings…” Ember clearly didn’t want to own the source of the rumors. “Can we still have the ceremony?”
“You can,” Malachi said. “You have a witness”—he nodded to Quinn—“and it’s after sunset.” He cocked his head. “I don’t know why that one’s still a tradition.”
“Do we just…speak vows?”
Nervousness filtered into her scent. Aaron pressed a kiss to her hair. “That’s all there is to it. Bonding ceremonies are performed by the alpha, and we’ve got him too.” He grinned.
Malachi held up await one minutefinger and disappeared down the hall that led to the cabin’s bedrooms.
“What’s he doing?” Ember said.
“You know what handfasting is? We do that, the cord thing, while we speak our vows.”
“Oh, I’ve seen that at weddings. I like it.” But her smile still held uncertainty.
“Ember, if you’re not really sure…”
His lungs constricted with the possibility that it would all be gone again, that these last few minutes of hope would ignite and burn away. The grief hovered inches from him, ready to pounce again. But he would not have her now if she felt an ounce of hesitation.
“I’m sure of us.” Her arm around his ribs squeezed, as if she knew his fear. “I’m so sure of us.”
He stroked her hair and believed her, truly believed her.
“But the ceremony… This feels unfair somehow. The pack doesn’t get any notice at all? What if tomorrow they’re angry they weren’t here?”
“Ah. Yeah, that’s not how it works. If the alpha bonds us, we’re mates. That’s it.”
“And if they hate me?”
“Then we work through it. But they’re not likely to, once we’re bonded. It’s sort of a seal…a seal of belonging. The wolves will sense it on you, and you’ll be part of my scent now, if that makes sense.”
“It doesn’t, actually.”
He laughed, and Malachi returned with the soft burgundy leather cord.
“Another tradition,” Malachi said to Ember. “The ceremony is always outdoors.”
They didn’t stop in the main yard. Malachi led them down the first of his hills, and in the shallow valley, he stopped. The darkness wasn’t yet complete, but the afterglow of twilight had begun to fade, and the moon was bright above them.
“Quinn,” Malachi said, “please stand at my side as the witness of this bonding.”
Quinn took his place with shoulders straight and chest pushed out, his mouth stretched into a grin as thrilled as Aaron had ever seen.
“Aaron and Ember, please stand before me, facing one another, and extend your right hands,” Malachi said.
Ember did so, her eyes full of questions. Aaron lightly grasped her wrist and guided her fingers around his. When she looked up at him, her gray eyes were filled with moonlight and, yes, certainty. She loved and wanted him.
Malachi carefully, intricately wrapped the cord around their hands. When he stepped back, they were bound together, their right arms outstretched toward each other.
