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And Rollo.

Standing at the end of the aisle. Looking at her like she was the moon come down from the sky.

His shirt was linen, simple, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His beard trimmed, his eyes warm. A circlet of pine rested atop his tousled hair, tucked with a single sprig of moonvine. He looked every bit the protector he’d always been—only now, the shadows were gone from his shoulders.

Delilah took one step forward.

Then another.

Hazel waited beneath the arch, flowers blooming from her shoulders like part of the earth itself. Wren stood beside her, healthy and glowing, her hand resting over her chest where life pulsed steady and strong.

The town had gathered, quiet but brimming. No fanfare. No spectacle.

Just love.

Dax offered her a thumbs-up and a cheeky grin. “About time you two stopped making us all dizzy.”

Delilah laughed.

But when she stepped beneath the arch, everything else faded.

Rollo took her hands, big and warm, scarred and sure.

Hazel’s voice floated above them, soft and grounding. “Tonight, under the moon and in the presence of root and wing, you bind not just fates—but choices.”

Delilah looked up at Rollo.

And he, at her.

Hazel continued, “This bond is not forged by prophecy or spell. It is strengthened by effort. By trust. Bychoosing each other again and again.”

Rollo’s voice was low, trembling with emotion as he spoke his vow. “I spent too long thinking I had to stand alone. But you showed me strength isn’t being alone—it’s knowing who you’d walk through fire for. And I’d walk through anything, Delilah. So long as it brings me to you.”

Delilah blinked fast, lips trembling as she whispered, “You’ve been my roots when mine were gone. My compass when I lost the stars. You’re my anchor, Rollo. My home. And I choose you. Always.”

Hazel lifted her hands.

Magic shimmered between their palms—subtle but strong. A golden thread of light looping between them, twining around their fingers, their wrists, their hearts.

Wren stepped forward, her voice like wind through leaves.

“I bless this union with the forest’s breath. May it guide you, guard you, and grow with you. Together.”

The thread sank into their skin, disappearing—but the bond pulsed warm and real beneath it.

Hazel smiled, eyes soft. “You may seal your vows.”

Rollo didn’t wait.

He bent, catching Delilah’s lips with his, the kiss sure and sweet and entirely too long if not for the delighted cheer that rose from the town.

Delilah melted into him, laughter tumbling between them as he wrapped his arms around her and spun her once, boots kicking up soft moss.

They were met with embraces, cheers, flowers pressed into their hands—wild blossoms tied in ribbon, single sprigs of mint and rosemary tucked into buttonholes and curls. Laughter sparkled like sunlight off a stream.

Jace, the hardened and usually grumpy alpha of the shifter wolf pack, strode through the small crowd like a mountain wrapped in muscle. He stopped before Rollo, studying him with a gaze sharp enough to slice bark. Then, with a grunt, he clapped a heavy hand on Rollo’s shoulder. “You did good, Steele.”

Rollo smirked, one arm wrapped tight around Delilah’s waist. “You have no idea.”