Page 19 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny
Rosalia nodded, offering a weak smile and accepting a glass of water from Daisy.
After a few measured breaths, she stood, smoothing her dress.
“It must be getting time to go now?”
“We can stay here a bit longer if you want,” said Daisy, “there’s no need to rush.”
Rosalia inclined her head. “Thank you, but I’m perfectly fine. I don’t want to keep the others waiting.”
Daisy considered her for a moment before nodding, something resigned in her face. Almost sad.
Rosalia ignored it. She couldn’t afford to be seen as fragile, not when she hadn’t even earned their respect.
She was Rosalia Heath of the Green Mountain Pack, and it was time to face her destiny.
***
Pine Shadow Grove was every bit the enchanted heart of the Iron Walkers. Golden summer sun shone through ancient Pine branches, bathing the verdant meadow below in light. Pollen from the wildflowers danced in the sunbeams, catching the hazy afternoon glimmer like tiny specks of glitter. The soft hum of the assembled pack created a closed, almost magical energy, run through with the sweet scents of the flower garlands strung from the trees.
And yet, as she stood opposite Rick, repeating the vows Felix intoned, she might as well have been on a battlefield.
And standing across from her, Rick looked every inch the soldier. His ceremonial robes were the traditional fightingleathers of the European wolf clans, complete with deadly blades at his hips. With all the refinement of his suits stripped away, the full force of his animalistic power was revealed. Bare arms corded with muscle, broad shoulders, sheer overwhelmingsize. She had been right. His charming, modern handsomeness was merely a costume he wore.
This was the real thing.
As he spoke his vows to her, it was as if a marble statue of some Germanic warrior god had come to life. He certainly had all the warmth of stone.
Although he held her hands, looked into her eyes as he swore to be loyal and true, Rosalia felt no connection whatsoever to him. It was like she was a ghost, a floating inarticulatethingheld together with a few ribbons and the heavy yoke of her father’s gaze.
It was only Eva’s face, shining and pure and happy, clutching a small bouquet of wild daisies and roses at her father’s side, that allowed Rosalia to feel the earth beneath her feet.
The vows were over in the blink of an eye. Rick did not kiss her. This wasn’t a human wedding.
Nor was it a mating ceremony. Not even her father’s blood oath could enforce a mating ceremony.
With a delicate emerald ring now on her finger, Rick stepped back, and she turned to Felix and knelt.
“Rosalia…Reinhardt,” he said.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“You come before the Iron Walkers of your own free will, asking to be sworn into our ranks. Do you come with loyalty in your heart, and the strength to stand beside us in times of peace and war alike?”
She stared at the grass beneath her, imagining the soft roots below, the wilderness all around her.
“I do.”
Felix paused. Out of the corner of her eye, Rosalia saw Rick’s bare feet planted in the grass. Motionless. Miles away.
She screwed her eyes shut.
“Repeat after me,” Felix said, his voice soft. “I pledge myself to the Iron Walkers.”
She could smell the forest. The trees. “I pledge myself to the Iron Walkers.”
“To their safety, their strength, and their future.”
“To their safety, their strength, and their future.”
