Page 34

DOMINIC

D ominic had survived curses, dream realms, and Thaloryn’s sociopathic smugness, but nothing prepared him for wedding planning in Celestial Pines.

He stood in the middle of the main square, arms crossed and brows drawn as the town bustled around him like enchanted bees in spring.

Someone had conjured floating flower garlands that swooped from lantern posts.

Markus was barking orders in his usual pine-smoke growl, and Rowan was elbow-deep in ribbon samples, arguing with a witch named Melba about color symbolism.

Dominic’s mate—his soon-to-be wife—was at the center of it all.

Lillith looked like magic incarnate in her oversized cardigan and scuffed boots, hair swept into a loose braid that trailed over her shoulder.

She was laughing at something Twyla said, her cheeks pink from the morning chill, and the sight of her knocked the wind out of him like it always did.

“Bet you didn’t see this coming when you strolled into town,” Rowan murmured at his side, nudging him with a smirk.

Dominic grunted. “Pretty sure I didn’t see anything past getting that damn tether off me.”

“You were feral about it,” Rowan agreed cheerfully. “And now look at you—domesticated.”

“Careful,” Dominic said, eyes still on Lillith. “I still bite.”

Markus passed them, arms full of chairs, and paused long enough to mutter, “Only one person you’re biting now, Dom.”

That earned a laugh from Rowan and a visible grimace from Dominic. He was still getting used to everyone in town knowing every inch of his business. Apparently being bonded by ancient magic and publicly declaring your mate at a council meeting had that effect.

“Speaking of,” Markus added, dropping the chairs with a heavy thunk, “you mark her yet?”

Dominic turned sharply. “Excuse me?”

Markus didn’t blink. “The mark. The bite. The soul tie. Shifter tradition. Alpha stuff.”

Dominic clenched his jaw. “No.”

Rowan arched a brow. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“It’s not the right time,” Dominic said, tone clipped. “I’ll mark her when we’re married. Not before.”

Rowan blinked. “Wow. You’re really leaning into the sentimental alpha archetype.”

“It’s not sentiment,” Dominic snapped, then softened when he caught sight of Lillith helping a kid balance a stack of enchanted music scrolls. “It’s respect. I don’t want the bond to be about instinct or history or old rules. I want it to be her choice. All of it.”

Markus grunted. “Old-fashioned.”

“Yeah,” Dominic said. “I am.”

He walked off before they could tease him more, though he caught Rowan whispering behind him, “If he cries at the altar, I owe you ten coppers.”

The prep carried on for hours, and Dominic kept busy, mostly because standing still meant thinking too much. Every time he and Lillith were more than ten feet apart, his body itched. The tether was gone, but the muscle memory of always being near her hadn’t faded. Probably never would.

He found her eventually, sitting on the back steps of the cottage with a mug of tea and a tired smile.

“Hey,” she said when he dropped down beside her, their shoulders touching.

“Hey.”

“Survive the great chair debate?”

“Barely. Markus is now banned from floral arrangements.”

She laughed, soft and honest. “Good. I don’t need pine-scented roses.”

They sat like that in the quiet for a while. It curled around them like one of her enchanted blankets—warm and familiar, the kind of silence that didn’t demand anything.

Then she reached out and tugged at his sleeve. A small gesture, but it said everything.

“You okay?”

He looked at her, and something behind his eyes softened. “I think so. Just… weird.”

“The tether?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I know we’re free now. But it still feels like I should be able to feel you.”

She turned her hand over, palm up between them.

“You still can,” she whispered. “Just not the same way.”

He took it, threading his fingers through hers. They fit. Still did. Maybe always had.

“I think everyone’s surprised we didn’t end up killing each other before the curse was broke,” he said, lips twitching.

Lillith huffed. “I wasn’t sure we’d survive karaoke night.”

Dominic chuckled. “You sang like a siren. I didn’t stand a chance.”

“I almost hexed you for that line.”

“You’re still free to,” he murmured. “But just… not yet.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder again, exhaling slowly.

“Some of the girls in town looked pretty sad today,” she said after a moment, voice wry.

“Oh?”

She glanced up at him, a smug little smirk on her lips. “Apparently the town heartbreaker is off the market.”

“Was I really?” he asked, pretending innocence.

“Oh, don’t play dumb and modest now! You were,” she said, teasing. “Rowan kept a chart.”

He groaned. “Of course he did.”

“But,” she added, her voice quieter now, “you chose me.”

He turned to her fully. “I’ll keep choosing you. Every day.”

“You better,” she said, smile tilting. “I’ve got enchanted garden gnomes now. Don’t test me.”

They kissed then, unhurried and warm. The kind of kiss that had become a habit. Not from repetition, but from knowing how good it felt to be known.

Lillith sighed against his lips, her eyes fluttering closed, and when they parted, she tucked herself into his side. For a long minute, neither of them said anything.

Then she murmured, “I never thought I wanted this.”

He tilted his head. “This?”

“A wedding. All of it. Twyla’s enchanted doves, the chaos, the endless questions about table linens…” She shook her head with a half-smile. “I figured if I ever ended up loving someone, it’d be something quiet. Private. Maybe even a little secret.”

“But?”

“But with you… it doesn’t feel like I’m giving anything up. It feels like I’m finally being seen.”

He blinked, a little thrown by the honesty. Then he kissed the top of her head and said, low and rough, “You always deserved to be seen.”

“Twyla’s been unbearable, by the way. She already cursed the pie table so no one touches it until the reception.”

Dominic laughed. “That woman’s terrifying.”

“And somehow even more invested in this wedding than I am.”

He looked at her, eyes full of something deep and steady. “I don’t care if the flowers explode, or the doves start chanting. As long as I get to say I do.”

Lillith smiled and reached for his hand again, and held on.