SASHA
Istood in front of the mirror in my room, smoothing my wedding gown one last time. The fabric was a shimmering cascade of smooth, pale-yellow silk embroidered with delicate vines around the collar and down the sleeves. I’d chosen every detail myself. The hem ended above the floor for easy movement, and I’d woven in subtle enchantments to ward off stray magical interference. It was practical, yet beautiful.
My raven companion, Savory, perched on the vanity in front of me, her black feathers gleaming like ink on water. She tilted her head, studying my reflection.
You’ve planned every detail and every word you’ll speak, but have you prepared your heart to bend to the unexpected?she asked in my mind, the only way companions could speak to their bonded witches.
“My heart is prepared for a strategic alliance,” I told her, adjusting the fabric at my shoulder.
Trees that refuse to sway in the wind often break, she said, her tone gentle but pointed.
I chose not to respond, running through my checklist instead.
Flower arrangements that would symbolize unity between our realms? Done. I’d used pressafile lilies for the witch side of the aisle and wildflowers for whimsy on the side where the fae guests would sit.
Ceremonial elements? Also done. I’d pored over ancient texts for weeks, ensuring the ritual blended our traditions seamlessly. I wanted no loose ends, no surprises. This wasn’t only an arranged marriage, it was a strategic alliance to bring the witch and fae people together.
But deep down, I clung to the hope that this could be more. Maybe, if I showed Dominic I was serious about a true partnership, we could build something real. Respect, shared goals, and companionship. I wasn’t a starry-eyed romantic, but I wasn’t made of stone either.
Yet even that small hope felt like a risk. I’d learned the hard way how fast life could take someone from you. Losing someone you loved hurt. Better to keep my heart locked behind a wall, where it couldn’t get hurt.
“You’re ready?” Cyrene asked from the doorway, looking gorgeous in her teal gown. She’d helped me arrange my hair, and I’d done the same for her.
“It’s nearly time,” Victoria said, coming up behind Cyrene, also looking lovely in the same color. She, Cyrene, and Adele would stand with me at the altar.
I lifted my chin. “I am.” I tightened my fingers on the small scrap of paper with my vows. I’d written them over the past few days, pouring out heartfelt words about mutual respect, forging a partnership that could bridge our worlds, and building a future together. Logical, but sincere, which I supposed summed me up nicely.
We left my room and took the stairs to the lowest levelof Grandmother’s estate, making our way to the grand hall where the ceremony would take place. Pausing outside the closed doors, I studied my sisters’ faces. They looked happy. Cyrene was a joy witch, so it was in her nature to feel cheerful most of the time, but her eyes glowed with excitement for me.
Adele kept smiling, and when snow fell lightly around my weather witch sister, I could tell she was thinking of her husband, the dragon shifter king, Raoul.
Two perfect matches, thanks to our grandmother’s intervention.
Could I hope for a decent match for me?
The music inside the hall rose to a crescendo before falling silent. My cue. I nodded to the servants standing on either side of the doors, and they swept them open.
Savory lifted from my shoulder with a whisper of wings, soaring ahead into the grand hall. She glided over the assembled guests, a streak of midnight, before settling on top of the altar. From there, she would witness everything.
Adele entered the grand hall first, followed by Cyrene and Victoria.
Then it was my turn. The music rose again, the musicians playing the lilting song I’d selected for my entrance.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the enormous room, savoring the hard effort I’d put in over the past few days to make everything look special. I’d created a stunning fusion of our worlds for the altar, a raised platform draped in enchanted vines that glowed under the canopy of intertwined sprilla crystals and frittin glow-orbs.
As I walked, flower petals rained down from overhead, changing colors as they fell, dissolving into sparks of light before they could touch the ground. The air pretty much shimmered with celebration magic.
I carefully strode down the aisle, keeping my eyes trained forward.
My groom hadn’t arrived yet, but that was part of fae wedding tradition. The bride would wait forhimat the altar.
A murmur lifted from the fae side, and I swore I heard a few snickers, but that couldn’t be true. Who’d laugh at a wedding?
Reaching the end, I stepped up onto the platform and made my way to the altar, dipping my head to the waiting elder who’d marry us. I positioned myself in front of him, my heart pounding against the inside of my ribs. Grandmother sat in the front row on the witch side, her eyes twinkling with that knowing smile that made me want to grin along with her, flanked by relatives and my sisters’ husbands. An expert with divination magic, Grandmother must’ve seen good in this marriage. Like I’d trusted her when she made the announcement that I’d soon marry the fae king, I trusted her to see that things would work out for the best.
Everyone looked composed and elegant in their formal clothing, exchanging polite nods with the other guests.
The fae side was a riot of color and extravagance. Lords and ladies lounged in flowing garments that shimmered with living jewels, their elaborate hairstyles defying gravity.
