CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Everly
Marta found her in the workshop two days before the mark, arms full of fabric Everly didn't immediately recognize and an expression that suggested she wasn't leaving until this particular conversation happened properly.
"Wren tradition," Marta said, by way of explanation, setting the fabric down carefully across the workbench.
"Every mate who's chosen the mark wears something made by pack hands, not bought or borrowed.
I know you've got plenty else demanding your attention right now, but I wasn't about to let this particular tradition slip just because everything else is chaos. "
Everly ran her fingers over the fabric — deep green, soft as anything she'd ever touched, clearly worked with considerable skill and care. "You made this?"
"Marisol helped with the sewing, though I'll deny she's better with a needle than me if you ever repeat that to her directly.
" Marta's smile carried real warmth despite the dry humor.
"Every steward who's taken the mark going back generations has worn something like this.
Ruth wore green too, at her own choosing ceremony, though she chose stewardship alone rather than a mate to go with it.
I thought it fitting, given everything, that you'd carry a piece of that same tradition forward. "
Something tightened in Everly's throat at that, the weight of Ruth's presence still felt so keenly even months after her death, still shaping every meaningful moment of Everly's new life in ways she suspected she'd keep discovering for years to come.
"Thank you. This means more than I probably know how to say properly. "
"You don't need to say it. I can see it well enough." Marta settled onto the workshop's spare stool, watching Everly hold the fabric with obvious care. "Can I offer some unsolicited advice, from someone who's watched a fair number of these ceremonies over the decades?"
"Please."
"Don't spend the next two days worrying about doing it right.
There isn't a wrong way to choose someone, not really — the old rituals give it structure, sure, but the actual choosing, the actual meaning of it, that's yours to make however feels true.
I've seen ceremonies that followed every tradition perfectly and felt hollow, and I've seen ones that broke half the expected forms and felt like the truest thing I'd ever witnessed.
What matters is what's actually between the two of you.
Everything else is just decoration around that. "
Everly considered that, feeling some of the anxious perfectionism she hadn't fully acknowledged carrying loosen its grip slightly.
"I keep thinking about how fast all of this happened.
Two months ago I didn't know any of you existed.
Now I'm about to do something permanent, something that changes the whole shape of my life forever, and it doesn't feel rushed at all.
It feels like the only honest timeline this could have followed, somehow. "
"That's usually how it goes, from what I've witnessed.
The mate bond doesn't much care about calendars.
It cares about recognition, about truth, and once that truth is clear enough, waiting past what's actually necessary just becomes its own kind of dishonesty.
" Marta studied her for a moment, something gentler entering her expression.
"For what it's worth, watching you these past two months — the way you've handled every single thing this fight has thrown at you, the way you helped Cara find her way home, the way you've built real stewardship out of a legacy you didn't even know existed until Ruth's letter arrived — I don't think anyone in this pack doubts anymore why you're the one Caleb's spent his whole life waiting for.
I include Vance in that, before you ask.
He mentioned it himself, just yesterday. "
Everly felt something warm and grateful settle in her chest at that, the slow, hard-won acceptance of this whole community finally arriving at something like completion. "That actually means a great deal. I know how much reservation he carried, especially early on."
"Reservation earned through real losses, not stubbornness for its own sake.
But earned doubt can shift, given enough evidence to shift it.
You've given this whole pack plenty of that evidence, these past two months.
" Marta stood, gathering her things, though she paused at the workshop door before leaving.
"Two days, Everly. Whatever nerves you're carrying between now and then — and I suspect you're carrying some, whatever your face is showing me right now — trust that they're just part of choosing something that actually matters.
The absence of nerves would worry me more than their presence does. "
After Marta left, Everly sat alone in the workshop for a long while, the green fabric spread across her lap, feeling the accumulated weight of the past two months settle into something that felt, for the first time in longer than she could remember, entirely, uncomplicatedly right.
She found Caleb later that evening at the boundary marker, running his usual perimeter check with the extra vigilance the compressed timeline demanded, and watched him for a moment before announcing herself, cataloguing the particular steadiness he carried even now, even with Rourke's deadline bearing down faster than any of them had originally planned for.
"Marta gave me something today," she said, once he noticed her approach. "For the ceremony. A tradition, apparently, going back generations."
"The green fabric." Something soft crossed his expression. "My mother wore something similar, from what my father told me, though I never got the chance to see it myself. I'm glad Marta thought to keep that tradition going for you."
"I keep thinking about how much history is wrapped up in two days from now.
Your family's history, mine, the whole pack's, going back generations before either of us existed.
" Everly wrapped her arms around herself against the evening chill, watching the last of the daylight fade over the familiar tree line.
"It's strange, feeling like part of something that large.
A month ago I was just trying to survive an inheritance I didn't understand.
Now I'm about to become part of a lineage that goes back further than I can properly trace. "
"You're not just becoming part of it," Caleb said quietly, closing the distance between them.
"You're already part of it. You have been since the moment you chose to stay, chose to learn the stewardship properly, chose to fight for this place instead of walking away when you had every reason to.
The mark just makes official what's already true. "
Everly leaned into him, feeling the steady warmth of his presence settle over the last of her nervous energy, transforming it into something calmer, more certain.
"Two days," she said softly, echoing Marta's earlier words.
"I keep waiting to feel afraid of the permanence of it. I don't. I just feel ready."
"I feel exactly the same way." Caleb pressed a kiss to the top of her head, something fierce and grateful in the gesture.
"Whatever Rourke's still planning, whatever comes at us in the days after — I want you to know, clearly, that this choice was never about him.
It was always just about us. I need you to carry that certainty with you into the ceremony, whatever else is happening around it. "
"I will." She tilted her head up to look at him fully, certainty settling into every line of her expression.
"I choose you, Caleb Voss. Not because of Rourke, not because of strategy, not because of anything except exactly how sure I am that this is where I'm meant to be.
In two days, I intend to make that choice permanent, and I have never wanted anything more clearly in my entire life. "
They stood together at the boundary marker as full dark settled over the valley, two people preparing to face down whatever came next fully, permanently bound to each other by a choice neither of them intended to ever regret making.
Whatever Rourke Ashgrove still had planned, Everly understood with total, unwavering certainty, he was about to discover exactly how much stronger they'd become, together, than anything he could throw against them alone.