Page 46 of Furever Bound (Hollow Oak Mates #7)
SERA
N ovember thirtieth dawned with crystalline clarity that made Hollow Oak's mountains look carved from amber and gold, autumn's final day arriving with the kind of perfect weather that suggested nature itself approved of quiet wedding celebrations over elaborate ceremonies.
From her window at the inn, where she'd spent the night in gentle acknowledgment of traditions about grooms not seeing brides before ceremony, Sera could see bare branches etched against the sky that promised winter without surrendering autumn's last magic.
"Nervous?" Miriam asked as she entered with steaming coffee that smelled like cinnamon and contentment, her maternal warmth making The Hearth & Hollow Inn feel like a family home rather than temporary accommodation.
"Perfect," Sera corrected, accepting the mug with hands steady despite the magnitude of what this day would bring. "Ready to marry the man I love, in the place where we first understood what we could build together, with the people who've become family."
"Everything you've chosen together," Miriam added with gentle acknowledgment of their journey from antagonistic sparring to supernatural partnership to this moment of formalized commitment.
Through her window, Sera could see the forest glade where they would exchange vows, where autumn light would filter through bare branches to create a natural cathedral atmosphere without requiring any artificial enhancement.
The simplicity felt perfect—just them, their chosen witnesses, and promises spoken in the place where their love story had truly begun.
"The dress," she said with satisfaction rather than anxiety, knowing that the cream sweater dress hanging in her closet represented authenticity over performance, comfort over spectacle.
"Is perfect," Miriam assured her with confidence. "Simple elegance that honors who you are rather than who you used to perform being."
A gentle knock announced Twyla's arrival with a wedding breakfast that looked almost too beautiful to eat—pastries and coffee that tasted like November morning and new beginnings.
"Wedding day breakfast," Twyla announced with cheerful efficiency as she arranged treats that would provide energy for ceremony and celebration without overwhelming delicate pre-wedding nerves. "Simple recipes that ensure matrimonial happiness without complicated supernatural enhancements."
"And something borrowed," Mrs. Johnson added as she appeared with a small jewelry box whose contents would undoubtedly represent community blessing without ostentatious display.
Inside the box lay a simple silver pendant on a delicate chain, warm to the touch and somehow alive with accumulated blessing from marriages that had sustained mountain communities through decades of challenge and change.
"Worn by three generations of supernatural community brides," Mrs. Johnson explained with elderly wisdom that made the gift feel like inheritance rather than loan. "Nothing elaborate, just protection and harmony for couples choosing to build something permanent together."
"It's beautiful," Sera breathed, touching the pendant that felt like family treasure rather than ceremonial obligation.
"It's yours," Mrs. Johnson corrected with satisfaction that proved community acceptance had evolved into genuine affection. "Family treasures belong with family members, and you've been family since you chose to protect our community over personal convenience."
The casual reference to family membership made Sera's chest warm with emotions.
"Time to get ready," Miriam announced with gentle efficiency that suggested intimate weddings still required careful timing. "Simple ceremonies need the same attention to detail as elaborate celebrations."
As they began the quiet preparation of bride for ceremony that would formalize bonds already forged through crisis and sealed through supernatural connection, Sera realized that choosing authenticity over performance had led to exactly the kind of happiness she'd been unconsciously seeking through years of manufactured relationships and calculated social media presence.
"Ready?" Twyla asked as Sera studied her reflection in the inn's antique mirror, noting how the simple dress and borrowed pendant made her look like someone who belonged in love stories rather than federal investigations.
"Ready," she confirmed with certainty that resonated through the mate bond connecting her to Maddox across the short distance to their ceremony location.
They walked to the forest glade together, abandoning tradition in favor of shared journey toward promises they would speak in the place where their relationship had first moved beyond antagonistic sparring into genuine connection.
Maddox wore his best dark jeans and the charcoal sweater that made his blue eyes look like winter sky, while she carried a simple bouquet of pine boughs and winterberries gathered that morning from the forest itself.
Varric waited in the glade's center with Miriam and Twyla standing as witnesses, the elder's long silver braids catching afternoon light that filtered through bare branches to create natural cathedral atmosphere.
The setting felt sacred without requiring elaborate decoration, intimate without feeling isolated.
"We gather today to witness the formal union of souls already joined," Varric began with ceremonial gravity that transformed simple words into profound blessing.
"Maddox and Sera, you have chosen to build partnership through crisis, to find love amid challenge, to create permanent connection that transcends ordinary human understanding of commitment. "
Their vows were simple, honest, free from performance pressure that had marked too much of Sera's previous life.
Maddox spoke about finding home in her chaos, about learning that the best stories were written with someone rather than about someone.
She promised to choose authenticity over perfection, to build something real rather than something that looked good from outside observation.
When Varric pronounced them married under supernatural community authority and federal recognition alike, their kiss tasted like November air and pine trees and promises kept rather than promises performed.
"It's official," Maddox said against her lips.
"Finally," she agreed, their shared laughter echoing through the glade as autumn light painted everything in shades of gold that suggested nature itself was celebrating their choice to build something permanent together.
As they walked back toward town with their small wedding party, pine boughs still fragrant in her bouquet and borrowed pendant warm against her skin, Sera realized that the most beautiful love stories were always the ones written quietly, one authentic moment at a time, by people brave enough to choose real connection over perfect performance.
The November afternoon light caught the silver in Maddox's hair as they moved through Hollow Oak's familiar streets, and through the mate bond now blessed by ancient traditions and federal recognition alike, she felt his satisfaction matching her own as they prepared to spend the rest of their lives proving that the best marriages were built on foundation of genuine partnership rather than elaborate ceremony.
In the distance, evening prayers began rising from various supernatural households while mountain voices harmonized in celebration that made the forests themselves seem to sing, and Sera Thorn walked toward her authentic happily ever after with borrowed jewelry catching light around the family that had chosen her as completely as she had chosen them.