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DOMINIC

D ominic never thought he’d stand still in one place and feel like he was flying. But that’s what it felt like rooted in the soft moss of the Grove Meadow, wind tugging at his collar, while his heart thundered in his chest like it might just tear itself out and bolt straight for the altar.

The arch had been woven from silverthorn branches and dried herbs, wrapped in strands of moonlight and spells that shimmered faintly in the dusk. It was simple. Wild. Unapologetically them.

He caught the movement before the music even started—Twyla peeking out from behind the trees, whispering something to Lillith that made her laugh and swat at her friend’s shoulder. Then she stepped forward, and the whole world narrowed.

Lillith wore black. Not because she was trying to be edgy or dramatic, but because it was honest. Deep, matte silk hugged her waist, trailing into soft lace vines around her arms and shoulders.

Her hair was swept up with glints of garnet and silver.

A simple veil that wasn’t pulled over her face.

No crown. Just her—barefoot, glowing, and walking toward him.

Markus cleared his throat next to him. “Breathe.”

Dominic exhaled. He forgot he hadn’t been.

Rowan, bless him, stood beside Markus, already misty-eyed, holding the handfasting cords like they were made of gold instead of twine and spirit thread.

“She’s going to jinx me if I trip up,” Dominic muttered.

“She’d kiss you anyway,” Rowan said, grinning. “Might curse you first, though.”

The music swelled. Lanterns hovered above the trees, bobbing with the rhythm, fireflies gathering like they wanted to witness it too.

Lillith reached the end of the aisle and stopped, her eyes finding his.

“See, I’m not running,” she whispered.

“Good,” he said, voice low. “Because I’d chase you.”

She took his hand, fingers threading through his like they were meant to be there all along. And when Markus raised his hands, gruff and serious, the town silenced.

“By moonlight and bond,” he began, the old words slow and careful, “by the ley lines beneath and the stars above. We stand to witness not a binding—but a choice.”

Dominic turned toward her. His hands were steady, but his voice cracked just slightly.

“I spent my whole life running,” he said, “thinking if I kept moving, nothing could stick. Nothing could matter. And then you came at me like a storm. You scared the hell out of me, Lillith. Because you made me want to stay. You made me want to try.”

She blinked fast. Her smile trembled.

“I didn’t think I’d ever feel safe,” she said. “Not really. Not fully. But with you, I found a place I never thought I’d earn. You’re not just the one I love, Dominic. You’re home.”

Rowan stepped forward, wrapping the cord around their joined hands. “By magic chosen, and love returned. You are each other’s.”

The knot tightened with a soft pulse of light.

Then Markus added, “Now go kiss your damn mate.”

Dominic didn’t hesitate. He dipped forward and caught her lips with his. There was nothing frantic or rushed about it. Just warmth and promise and breathless, aching joy. And the sound of applause rose around them like thunder—friends, family, neighbors, even a few ghosts, if he were being honest.

Later, at the reception, lanterns drifted above the meadow, charmed by Twyla and Lyra. The air smelled like lavender shortbread and bonfire smoke. Dominic leaned back in his chair, hand resting possessively on Lillith’s knee.

Across the way, Rollo had his arm around Delilah, who looked radiant in layers of dark sage and gold. Jace Montgomery was hunched near the drink table with Lyra perched beside him, giggling as a mushroom popped out of a cake she’d enchanted. Again.

“She baked one into the spice cake,” Dominic murmured to Lillith. “Swears it enhances feelings of euphoria.”

“I feel euphoric,” Lillith replied, sipping her cider.

“That’s just me,” he said, smug.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it.

A slow song started. And with it, the hush of anticipation. Lillith looked over at him.

“Ready?”

He stood, holding his hand out. “For the rest of my life.”

They stepped onto the grassy clearing. The lanterns above glowed brighter, casting gold on her skin and shadows across his jaw. The music wrapped around them, soft and spell-sweet.

Dominic swayed with her in his arms, her cheek brushing his collarbone. Her dress whispered against the earth, and he felt the pulse of her soul against his chest.

“It’s strange,” she said, voice barely audible. “How it feels even deeper now.”

“Because we chose it,” he murmured. “And I’m marking you tonight.”

She looked up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “I waited because it felt right. But now?—”

“Now I’m yours,” she whispered.

“And I’m yours,” he answered.

They weren’t tethered by force anymore. No magic chain. No curse.

Just love. Steady. True. Fierce enough to level realms.

And as the dance continued, under floating lanterns and moonlight woven by their friends, Dominic didn’t feel like a man who had survived a war.

He felt like a man who had finally found peace. And tonight he was going to claim what was rightfully his.