Page 47 of Witch Bound and Down

"Interesting," Hopper observed quietly. "Your magical aura just perked up like a dog hearing its owner's car in the driveway."

Hazel forced herself to keep walking, but her heart was starting to race. The bond was getting stronger with every step, not weaker. Which made no sense unless...

Unless Bullseye was getting closer.

"No," she whispered to herself. "He made his choice. He chose the cargo."

But the bond disagreed. It was humming now, singing with an energy she hadn't felt since their night at Bertha's inn. Whatever was happening, her magic was responding to it like iron filings to a magnet.

She reached the front of the chapel, where Smokie was waiting with a smile so bright it could have powered the building. Mr. Snuggles was dressed in a tiny tuxedo that matched Smokie's, complete with a boutonniere made of miniature roses.

"You look beautiful," Smokie said, his voice thick with emotion. "Absolutely perfect. Doesn't she look perfect, Mr. Snuggles?"

He held the teddy bear up to his ear as if listening to a response, then nodded seriously. "Mr. Snuggles says you're the most beautiful bride he's ever seen, and he's been to a lot of weddings."

"How many weddings has a teddy bear attended?" Hopper asked sotto voce. "And more importantly, in what capacity?"

The officiant, a elderly centaur with flowers in his mane, smiled benevolently at the assembled crowd. "Dearly beloved," he began, his voice magically amplified to reach every corner of the chapel, "we are gathered here today to witness the union of Smokie Ignatius Lawman and Hazel Meadow Thornfield in the sacred bonds of matrimony."

Sacred bonds. Hazel's mating bond chose that moment to flare so bright she nearly gasped aloud. It felt like Bullseye was right outside the building, which was impossible. He was hours away, delivering dragon cargo and collecting his payment.

"Marriage," the centaur continued, "is a sacred commitment between two souls who choose to walk through life together, supporting each other through joy and sorrow, triumph and defeat..."

The words washed over Hazel like background noise. All her attention was focused on the bond, which was now practically vibrating with energy. Her magic was responding whether she wanted it to or not, reaching out through the connection toward something that felt achingly familiar.

"If anyone here has cause why these two should not be wed," the officiant said, "let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

The chapel fell silent. Hazel held her breath, half-expecting someone to object, but the only sound was the distant roar of Niagara Falls and the soft rustling of wedding guests shifting in their seats.

"Very well," the centaur said with a smile. "Smokie Ignatius Lawman, do you take Hazel Meadow Thornfield to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do!" Smokie said with such enthusiasm that several guests chuckled. "I absolutely do! Mr. Snuggles and I have been dreaming of this moment!"

"And do you, Hazel Meadow Thornfield," the centaur turned to her, "take Smokie Ignatius Lawman to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for as long as you both shall live?"

The chapel fell silent again, waiting for her answer. Hazel opened her mouth to say the words that would bind her to Smokie forever, but they wouldn't come. The mating bond was screaming now, flooding her system with emotions that definitely weren't her own—determination, desperation, and a love so fierce it took her breath away.

"I..." she started, then stopped.

"Hazel?" Smokie prompted gently. "Just say 'I do,' sweetheart. It's easy."

But it wasn't easy. Nothing about this was easy. Because standing here in this beautiful chapel, surrounded by people who expected her to say yes, all Hazel could think about was a minotaur who'd chosen dragon gold over her heart.

Except the bond was telling her a very different story.

"I can't," she said quietly.

"What?" Smokie's smile faltered.

"I can't do this," Hazel said louder, her voice carrying through the chapel. "I'm sorry, Smokie, but I can't marry you."

The chapel erupted in gasps and murmurs. Sheriff Lawman's face turned an alarming shade of red, while Smokie looked like someone had just told him Christmas was canceled.

"But... but why?" Smokie asked, clutching Mr. Snuggles to his chest. "Don't you love me?"

"I love someone else," Hazel said, the words feeling like truth for the first time in days. "I'm sorry, but I love someone else, and I can't pretend anymore."

"That smuggling criminal?" Sheriff Lawman roared, rising from his seat. "That no-good, cargo-running, wedding-disrupting—"

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