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“I know, but the fates saw that you were made for each other and then did their thing. It may not seem like it now, but there’s a reason you and Draven were brought together. Yes, you’ll disagree on things and argue, but in the end, no one will take your back or protect and care for you like your mate will. I know that it seems impossible to have someone feel that way about you after what happened, but he will. The connection between mates is like nothing else.”

“We hate each other,” I said. Well, we had hated each other. I didn’t know what I felt now, and I sure as hell had no idea what Draven felt.

Willow walked up to me and rested her hands on my shoulders. “I’m not gonna lie, it’ll take time to get to know each other, and it won’t be easy, but if you focus on that feeling in here”—she placed her fist against her sternum—“that feeling of rightness that sits right here when you’re with him, it will guide you, both of you, and everything will work out. I promise.”

I glanced out the window again and back. “I hope you’re right, I do.” I shrugged. “I don’t know what Draven’s thinking or what he wants, but my coven comes first, so I’ll do my duty. But if nothing changes between us, I’ll have a lot of shitty years ahead of me with a mate who doesn’t trust me.”

Willow’s smile slipped. “Iris.”

She looked pale all of a sudden. “What is it?”

“You know I’ve been pushing for you to find a mate, but what I didn’t tell you—”

The door was thrown open, and Mags strode in. Bram followed, carrying Rose. He placed her on the bed and Mags got up beside her, Nia following and demanding attention.

“Right, if you’re going through with this shit-show, let’s get you ready,” my baby sister said, sliding her arm around Roe so she could rest her head on Mags’s shoulder.

Willow looked at Bram. “Did you search her for weapons?”

Bram’s lips twitched. “She’s clean.”

We all sighed in relief, then he left us, heading back downstairs. The last thing we needed was Mags trying to stab Draven. We had enough to make up for already.

Mags rolled her eyes and ran her hand over Nia’s fur. “I won’t be so obvious when I take him out.”

“You won’t do a damned thing,” Willow said.

“Fine, I won’t,” Mags agreed way too easily.

“Her fingers are crossed behind her back,” Rose said.

Mags spun to her. “You little traitor.”

“You can’t do anything to him,” Rose said, her voice weak, but there was conviction there, in spades. “You’ll only cause trouble. I need to know that when I’m gone…”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Mags said.

Rose rested her hand on Mags and said nothing more.

Willow grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the door. “Right, go grab a shower and we’ll get everything ready.”

I stared at myself in the mirror. The dress draped over my curves, clinging in all the right places, and brushed the tops of my bare feet. My hair was down and slightly wavy, and Mom had come in a little while ago and placed a wreath made of jasmine on my head.

I’d been to ceremonies like this before. They were always fun, joyous occasions. I had no idea what Draven would think when he arrived to pick me up and saw all of this, and I decided I didn’t care either. This was for my family, for my coven. If doing this ritual gave them some measure of peace, I wanted to give it to them.

“Have you packed everything you need?” Willow asked. “We can always bring the rest of your things to you.”

“Yeah, I have everything I need.” My bags were already downstairs. I rubbed Nia’s head since she was pressed against me.

Nia make Iris feel better. Wolves make Iris feel better.

She could sense how I was feeling and was doing her best to help. I’d tried to explain what was happening, and she was having trouble understanding. But her excitement over seeing Draven again, and Ebony, of being with the wolves, was palpable. “You always make me feel better.”

I tried to calm my nerves, for Nia’s sake, but it was a struggle, especially with all the questions racing around in my head. Where would I be sleeping tonight? Would Draven expect us to have sex?

A little shiver moved through me as I remembered what he’d said in the field. I couldn’t imagine him wanting some drawn-out courtship. He wanted me, he’d told me more than once, and in a short time, I’d be his, to do with as he wished.

“You may be his mate,” Mags said, “but you’re not his freaking prisoner. You can come and go as you please, right?”