“What if you’re the reason she smiles every day. What if you work on being the best version of yourself and make sureher smile never fades? What if you protect her from the worldandprotect your relationship from the doubts threatening to destroy your bond? What if youdon’tfuck up?”
Huh.
Why the hell am I only focusing on everything I could screw up? I’ve craved someone to love all my life, and now that I’ve finally found the perfect woman to share my life with, why am I only fixating on how I could ruin it? I’d rather kill myself than hurt my little human, so why can’t I stop thinking about it?
My eyes burn as I let myself imagine Anxo’s version of my life.
“I just want to give her everything her heart wants.”
Anxo laughs like I said something funny, nudging my shoulder. “Then it’s a good thing you’re marrying her today because the only thing her heart wants isyou.”
I rest my head against his shoulder when Anxo pulls me into a side hug. A shaky laugh escapes as I try to compose myself.
Maybe Nevaeh is right.I really am a dumbass. Why else would I be sitting here sulking while my mate is counting on me to show up at the altar?
Seiji kicks open the door, screaming at the top of his lungs, “What the fuck are you doing? It’s too late to switch brides, Harvey! Nevaeh will skin you alive if you try to steal Anxo from her. Grace is youronlyoption. Now go change.” He yanks me up and chucks my suit at my face.
“And where’s my flower and ring boy?”
August runs into the room, holding a small basket of Grace’s favorite flowers. He pats his little suit pockets to show where the rings are.
The determined look on his face doesn’t surprise me. He’s the most dedicated to this wedding after Grace and me.
When we were planning the wedding, August had an opinion about literally everything. The cake, the flowers, and even the dress my mate chose. He nearly threw a fit when I tried to pick a plain black suit because “it wasn’tspecialenough.”
After a lengthy back-and-forth, we finally agreed on a suit. It’s still black but has ruby-red stones embroidered along the sleeves.
When I caught the little werewolf and Seiji sneaking a high-five behind my back, I knew I’d been set up. I never really had a choice.
Standing on stage, waiting for my bride, is both thrilling and nerve-wracking. Seiji’s dad, who is officiating, gives me the ‘before I do’ talk to ease my nerves, and I’m grateful to have so many people in my corner.
I wish Mom and Dad could be here to see the beautiful gift the Fates bestowed upon me. Our family has suffered loss after loss, but that ends today. Grace and I will rebuild the Alder legacy and bring it back to life.
Seiji transformed the entire Castle of War for today. I can’t name half the flowers he used to decorate the back garden that overlooks the waterfall, but the rushing water adds a dreamlike magic to the ceremony.
In front of me, the chairs are split into two sections, steadily filling with guests eagerly awaiting my bride’s entrance.
A soft, unfamiliar melody begins to play. I glance to my right and see two centaurs strumming the harps, announcing the first pair down the aisle.
Seiji walks down the aisle in a rich forest-green suit, the left side of his jacket covered in gold accessories. I don’t think he has ever had a bad outfit day.
Walking beside him is my close friend, or as most people call her,my soul twin.
Hazel looks stunning in a teal silk jumpsuit that flares at her calves. A delicate silver chain cinches her waist, and I bet it hides at least two daggers.
Hazel flashes me one of her rare warm smiles as she takes her place beside me as aGroomswoman, while Seiji crosses to Grace’s side as one of herBridesmen.
Don’t even get me started on the titles. It was a long,excruciating debate before everyone finally agreed on these.
Next up are Nevaeh and Anxo, drawing every gaze in the room. Everyone turns to steal a glimpse of the striking couple in perfectly coordinated outfits.
I don’t know how Anxo figured it out that Nevaeh likes it when they match, but the man lives and breathes for his mate, so of course, he makes sure they are always matching.
Nevaeh walks toward me in a black jumpsuit adorned with golden patterns trailing from her neck to her waist. A sheer black cape drapes around her shoulders. When my eyes catch the rough, raised scars on her arms, just like every other eye, I almost choke on a sob.
When Grace was designing everyone’s outfits, I suggested adding sleeves to Nevaeh’s. But she shook her head with a smile and said, “This way, Nevaeh can flaunt her strength when she’s ready. Until then, the cape would hide the scars and still make her lookchic.”
The sheer black cape is more than fashion… It’s a message. Nevaeh has finally chosen to stop caring about the judging eyes.
