Page 68 of Collar Me Crazy
“When did you—” Sonya’s breath hitched.
“We’ve been planning for weeks,” Moira admitted, eyes bright. “Ever since your first vision showed us you and Ryker were meant.”
“Planning what, exactly?”
“Your wedding, silly.” Twyla’s laugh rang like wind chimes. “Did you think we’d let you save the world without proper vows?”
Before Sonya could stammer out a protest, Freya arrived with an armful of fabric that shimmered like starlight on water. “Kaia saw it. We made this for you.”
The gown flowed over Sonya’s hands, warm with woven enchantment. Pale silver fabric gleamed as if it held the moon itself, its folds light and fluid. Just touching it made her heart thrum, as if the dress had been waiting for her.
“This is?—”
“Exactly right,” Sera said, stepping forward with flowers impossibly fresh for November. Their petals glowed faintly, threaded with charm. “You saved both realms. You’ve earned this.”
“What about Ryker? Does he know?”
“The men are wrangling him now,” Cora said with a satisfied smirk. “Pretty sure Callum’s threatening him into a tie as we speak.”
The next hour blurred in a rush of hands, voices, and laughter. Silver threads and flowers were woven through Sonya’s ebony curls, her skin smoothed with glowing balm, her battle-worn clothes replaced with the gown that flowed like capturedmoonlight. Twyla conjured a mirror from thin air, and Sonya almost didn’t recognize herself.
“You look like a fairy tale,” Katniss whispered.
Sonya touched the faint glow of Ryker’s claiming mark beneath the fabric. “I feel like one. But… is this really the time? We just?—”
“Exactly why it is the time,” Leenah said firmly. “Life is short. Love deserves to be honored when it’s won.”
By the time the sun dipped low, painting the lake in copper and silver, they guided her back to the archway. The entire town had gathered—elders in their finery, children clutching flowers, shifters and fae and witches alike, their faces shining with joy.
And there, waiting, stood Ryker.
He looked devastating in a deep green suit that made his emerald eyes blaze, auburn hair catching the torchlight like molten copper. For a man who often tried to disappear into shadows, he looked every inch the mate she had always seen in her visions—proud, steady, radiant.
Sonya nearly stumbled, and Varric appeared at her elbow. “Careful. Can’t have the bride face-plant before vows.”
“You’re officiating?”
“Of course. Legal in both realms.” His eyes twinkled. “Been waiting three decades to see this prophecy end properly.”
The seven couples arranged themselves at the arch—Callum and Cora, Emmett and Katniss, Lucien and Moira, Luka and Leenah, Elias and Kaia, Kieran and Freya, Maddox and Sera. Each pair shone with bond-magic, forming a living circle of light that hummed around Sonya as she walked the flower-strewn path.
The Veil itself shimmered overhead, not strained now but pulsing with strength, as if it too leaned in to watch.
“Dearly beloved,” Varric began, his voice rich, “we gather to witness the joining of two souls who faced darkness and won. They did not just defeat an enemy—they chose love over fear.”
Sonya barely heard the words. Ryker’s eyes pinned her in place, full of wonder and something deeper: a promise.
When it came time for vows, he took her hands. His palms were rough from work, warm as firelight.
“I spent thirty years running,” he said, his voice shaking just enough to betray the truth. “But you made me see some things are worth running toward. You’re my mate, my home. I promise to be worthy of that every day I draw breath.”
Tears spilled before she could stop them. “Visions always showed me possibilities, not certainties. But this—” she squeezed his hands, “—this is the future I choose. Loving you every day, no matter what paths lie ahead.”
“By the power vested in me by Council and state,” Varric said with satisfaction, “I pronounce you husband and wife. Ryker, kiss your bride.”
The kiss was heat and sweetness, tasting of promise and forever. Around them, cheers erupted, fiddles trilled, children whooped. Torchlight flared higher, and where their tears struck the ground, silver-lit flowers burst into bloom, impossible blossoms glowing like stars at their feet.
“Look,” Sonya whispered.
