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“No one wants to hallucinate during a wedding,” Logan snapped.

“It adds whimsy,” the baker argued.

“I’ll whimsy you into next week.”

From behind a line of lilac bushes, Calla popped out with a mischievous grin, holding a bundle of newly printed programs. “We’re gonna need more chairs. Sylvie’s whole coven is coming. And they traveldeep.”

Sylvie emerged behind her, cheeks flushed, her hand subtly brushing his. “They’re only coming because I told them I’d let them enchant the aisle with moon blooms.”

“They do know this isn’t their wedding, right?” Lyra asked, amused.

Sylvie smiled sweetly. “They’re aware. But also, slightly unhinged.”

Lyra grinned. “Perfect. They'll fit right in.”

She turned back to the Keep, where Jace was stepping onto the porch, shirt sleeves rolled, clipboard in hand.

Sweet stars, he lookeddangerousin daylight.

And yet he met her gaze like she was the only thing in it.

“Everything good out here?” he asked, walking over.

“Depends,” she teased. “You still sure you want to marry into this circus?”

He glanced around as Milo yelled at a pup to fetch him a spell-scroll, Logan argued with a squirrel shifter about the aisle runner, and Calla began enchanting floating lanterns with enough charm to rival a fireworks display.

“Without question,” he said. “I wantallof this.”

Lyra melted a little.

They stepped away from the chaos for a breath of peace behind the Keep, where the orchard trees bloomed early from spring magic and the wind rustled with whispers of laughter and life.

Jace leaned against the fence, eyes following a hawk overhead.

“You know,” he said quietly, “they really do love you.”

She blinked at him. “Who?”

“My pack. The town. All of it.”

Lyra looked down at her hands. “Sometimes I still feel like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s fairy tale.”

“You’re not.” He turned her to face him. “You fought for this. Bled for it. Protected every soul here like it was your own. Youareone of us.”

She swallowed.

“I’m proud of you, Lyra. I trust you. And I don’t say that easy.”

Her eyes stung.

She stepped closer, burying her face in his chest. “You’re not so bad yourself, Montgomery.”

They stood like that until the light dipped low and the smell of mooncake filled the air.

And in that quiet moment, surrounded by magic, madness, and a town full of misfits who had become family.

Lyra finally let herself believe it.