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She belonged.

Here. With him. Forever.

44

JACE

The full moon rose slow and sure, casting silver across the clearing like it had been waiting all along for this one night.

The same grove where he’d claimed her just weeks ago had been transformed. Lanterns floated gently among the branches like fireflies too dignified for fluttering. Wildflowers bloomed out of season, a spell woven by the coven in delicate hushes. Beneath their feet, a soft carpet of moss shimmered faintly, kissed by the magic of forest spirits who’d returned, curious and willing, to bless what was about to unfold.

Jace stood at the altar, breath steady, hands behind his back.

For once in his life, he wasn’t worried.

The town was safe. His people were healing. And his mate was about to walk down that moonlit aisle.

Logan adjusted his collar behind him, muttering, “If you faint, I’ll pretend I don’t know you.”

“I don’t faint,” Jace replied flatly.

“Good. Because she looks like a goddess in green.”

Jace turned sharply and forgot how to breathe.

Lyra walked between rows of enchanted trees, her arm looped through Calla’s, who wore her favorite sun-charmed shawl and proud tears in her eyes. The moment Lyra stepped into view, the forest hushed like it, too, wanted to watch.

She wore a deep emerald gown, the skirt kissed with gold thread that caught every glint of moonlight. Her curls tumbled freely down her back, a crown of blooming silverroot and starflowers nestled above her brow. Her smile—warm, unshaken, wide and wild—hit him like a punch to the chest.

He’d thought she was beautiful before. Now she was everything.

She met his gaze and didn’t look away.

Not when the coven began their song. Not when the spirits floated down in misty orbs around them. Not even when she reached him, placed her hand in his, and whispered, “Hey, grumpy.”

He swallowed. “Hey, witchling.”

Mirelle, the same elder who’d overseen the Moonlit Pact renewal, stood between them now, her hands raised in solemn grace.

“Tonight, beneath full moon and spell, we honor a bond not just of blood or name—but of soul. Two paths, once distant, now walk as one.”

The crowd was silent, save the occasional sniffle and the soft rustle of wings from the spirit realm.

Mirelle nodded at Jace.

He turned to Lyra, his voice rough but sure. “I wasn’t looking for you. Didn’t think Icouldhave something like this—something likeyou.But now I don’t know how I ever breathed before you walked into my life.”

Her eyes shimmered.

“I will protect you. Stand beside you. Be your mate, your Alpha, your home.”

Mirelle turned to Lyra.

She took a breath, then reached up, brushing her fingers over his jaw. “You drive me absolutely mad.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

“But you also make me feel seen. Safe. Like I don’t have to tame the chaos to be loved.” Her hand slid into his. “You were never a distraction, Jace. You were the thing I didn’t know I was strong enough to want.”