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Then came the pause, that held breath moment before—

"Holy shit."

Thor's voice carried clear across the garden, wonder and worship wrapped in two words. Laughter rippled through the gathering, but it was fond, understanding. Because Mandy looked like something out of a fairytale.

The dress was pure her—classic lines with unexpected details, traditional white but shot through with silver thread that caught the light. Her hair was swept up, showing her graceful neck. But it was her smile that stole the show, bright and certain and aimed like a laser at the giant Viking openly crying at the altar.

Duke walked her down the aisle with careful steps, presidential dignity intact despite the suspicious brightness in his eyes. He'd stepped into the father role without question, giving Mandy away like she'd always been family. Which, in every way that mattered, she was.

"You hurt her, I hurt you," Duke muttered to Thor as he handed her over, loud enough for the front rows to hear.

"Yes, Prez," Thor managed, completely transfixed. His hand shook as he took Mandy's, like he couldn't believe she was real.

The officiant—an internet-ordained brother named Preacher despite having no religious leanings—cleared his throat. "Dearlybeloved, we gather today to witness something special. Not just a marriage, but a merging of souls who've found each other through chaos and combat, through loyalty and love."

Original vows. Of course. Mandy wouldn't settle for standard "to have and hold" when she could make Thor cry in front of everyone.

Thor went first, pulling out a crumpled paper with hands that had steadied rifles without tremor. "Mandy. My Valkyrie. My Baby Girl. Didn't write much because words aren't . . . I'm not . . ." He stopped, took a breath. "You make me better. Not different, not tame, just . . . better. You see the monster, the man and the Daddy and somehow love all three. I promise to be your shield and your sword, your home and your adventure. To love you through war and peace, through storms and silence. To be worthy of the wings you gave me."

Damn, Thor’s allergies were catching. Really aggressive wedding allergies that made my mascara run.

Mandy's turn. She didn't need notes, speaking straight from the heart. "Thor. My Daddy. My protector. You think I make you better, but you gave me strength I didn't know I had. You showed me that soft doesn't mean weak, that love doesn't mean losing myself. I promise to stand beside you through brotherhood and bloodshed, through whatever comes. To be your anchor when you drift, your wings when you need to soar. To love every scar and story, every growl and grin. Forever."

"The rings?" Preacher prompted.

Tyson stepped forward with Thor's band while I mirrored him with Mandy's. Our eyes met over the couple, and the look he gave me was devastating. Like he was seeing our future, making promises without words. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, hoped everyone would blame it on the emotion of the moment.

"By the power vested in me by the internet and the great state of Colorado," Preacher announced, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Brother, kiss your woman!"

Thor didn't need to be told twice. He swept Mandy up, lifting her clean off her feet in a kiss that had the whole crowd whooping. When he finally set her down, her lipstick was smeared and his face was wet with tears, and they looked absolutely perfect.

The recessional was chaos. Rice flew despite venue rules, brothers shouted inappropriate suggestions, someone's bike alarm went off adding to the din. But through it all, I felt Tyson's stare like a physical touch. When I finally looked back, the raw hunger in his eyes made my knees weak.

"Later," I mouthed, trying for teasing but probably landing on desperate.

His smile was dark, promising. The reception couldn't start fast enough.

We were supposed to do photos first. Stand here, look there, pretend to laugh, actually laugh when Tank made bunny ears behind Duke's head. But all I could think about was the weight of Tyson's gaze, the promise of later, the way his hands had felt through silk.

"You're glowing," Mia whispered during a reset. "Getting ideas?"

"Shut up," I hissed, but my cheeks burned hotter.

She laughed, bumping my shoulder. "That man looks at you like you hung the moon. When's he going to make it official?"

"We're not—I mean, we haven't—" I stumbled over words, aware of Tyson's attention even from across the garden. "It's fine how it is."

"Sure." Her smile said she didn't believe me. "That's why you keep touching your ring finger."

I yanked my hand down, caught red-handed. Because I had been thinking about it. Not pushing, not demanding, just . . . wondering. What it would feel like to wear his name, his claim, permanent as ink.

"Places!" the photographer called. "Couple with the wedding party!"

We arranged ourselves, purple silk and dark suits against the garden backdrop. Thor kept pulling Mandy closer, like he needed constant contact to believe this was real. She glowed under his attention, soft and fierce all at once. Love looked good on them. Love looked like armor.

"Everybody say 'Brotherhood!'" the photographer commanded.

"Brotherhood!" we chorused, even Mandy, and the shutter clicked on our ridiculous, perfect family.