Chapter 20 - Dina
There’s magic in the way Alora’s hair never stays tidy, no matter how long I try with the detangler and the soft bristle brush.
She sits in the bouncer on the bathroom counter, a blue gingham dress bunched around her thighs, and every time I try to smooth out a cowlick, she grins wider and swings her feet harder.
Her eyes track my every movement in the mirror, and even though she’s still so little, her gaze is old and cunning.
I know that look. It’s the one that means if I turn my back, she’ll grab everything within reach and cause chaos.
Today, she’s especially excitable, catching the air with both palms and shrieking at her own reflection.
I stop for a second, struck by the color of the dress against her skin.
It’s almost exactly the shade I’m wearing; Luna’s idea, not mine, but secretly, I love it.
The fabric is soft and thin, making Alora look like a tiny, defiant doll, which is almost too much.
“Are you ready to cause trouble?” I ask her, setting the brush aside.
She gives a solemn nod, then immediately blows a spit bubble so huge it pops and spatters the glass.
“That’s what I thought.” I wipe up the mess and lift her down, clutching her close to my chest. She’s heavier than last week, and I know I’ll be saying the same thing next week, and the week after that.
She’s growing so fast I can’t keep up, and when I hug her, I feel something like terror and joy all at once.
The whole town’s been talking about the pack fayre for weeks; Luna, Skylar, and Fern have put so much into it, planning every detail to perfection.
It’s more than a celebration; it’s a white flag to the universe that we survived the winter, survived the rogues, survived everything that the world has thrown at us recently.
It’s a promise to the pack that there’s something worth looking forward to.
I adjust Alora’s dress, tucking a rogue curl behind her ear, and she tries to eat my finger, all gums and determination. “No,” I tell her. “You wear the dress, you don’t eat the dress.” She giggles, and it almost sounds like she understands.
I’m meeting Caleb at the fayre, and I'll take the truck but park a few blocks away from the square because it’s so busy.
The weather is so perfect it almost feels staged, the air holding that fleeting moment between spring and summer where everything smells fresh, like the whole world is new.
I tuck Alora into her stroller, and we set off for the square where I can already hear the music starting.
The path to the park is lined with wildflowers, and the houses are all dressed up, windows open, bunting flapping from porch rails. The decorations only increase the closer we get to the square, and as I turn the corner, I actually have to pause because I’m so taken aback by the scene.
The square is an explosion of color. Bunting drapes from every lamppost, blue and white and gold strung in sweeping arcs that make the whole street look like it’s underwater in sunlight.
Every table is set for a feast, with wildflowers bursting out of old mason jars, and the bakery has set up a stand with towers of pastries so tall I’m amazed they haven’t collapsed.
Kids dart between the legs of grownups, faces already painted, hands sticky with frosting and cotton candy, and everywhere, pack is arriving, and the square is getting louder with each greeting.
The sense of relief and pride in the air is so thick I can almost taste it.
But I’m not prepared for the way people turn to look as I wheel Alora onto the grass.
Heads swivel, conversations pause, and for a second, I freeze.
I have to remind myself that this is a celebration, that nobody here is looking for a reason to judge.
Still, it’s impossible not to feel the heat rise in my face as the crowd parts, just enough to make a path straight through the center of everything.
I catch a glimpse of Luna at the far edge, tall and regal in a gauzy dress, her hair loose for once and blowing wild around her shoulders.
She’s beaming, and next to her is Nick, arms folded, looking like he owns the world but can’t quite believe how good it turned out.
I see Skylar, Fern, and Ruby, who’s wearing a flower crown so large it’s more crown than hair. They all look…happy.
The music dips, then swells, and I realize everyone’s watching because something is happening. I look down at my dress, brush invisible dust from the skirt, and try to shrink myself, but it’s pointless. The crowd seems to move so Alora and I are at the center, and I feel every set of eyes on us.
Ahead, I see Caleb. He’s standing at the very center of the square, looking exactly the way I remember him the first time I met him that day, handsome and wary, like he can’t decide if he’s in too deep but doing it anyway.
He’s wearing a crisp blue shirt and dark jeans, his hair just barely tamed, but the thing that hits me is the look in his eyes.
There’s nothing guarded about it. He’s wide open.
He knows what’s going on today, even if I don’t.
Someone, I think Ruby, gives Alora a sprig of bluebells, and she waves it like a wand as we cross the grass.
I’m so caught up in the spectacle that I don’t register the sudden hush until it’s absolute.
The music drops out, and for a second, there is only the wind, the bunting, and the thump of my own heart.
Caleb moves toward us. Every step is deliberate. I feel rooted, unable to move except to tighten my hands on the stroller. He stops just short of me, so close I have to tip my head back to look up at him.
He’s shaking, just a little, and I know, with terrifying certainty, that he’s about to do something big and unexpected.
He says my name, just once, and it’s like a spell.
Suddenly, there’s an unbroken circle of pack behind us, and Caleb kneels in the grass, right in front of everyone, and the world goes pin-drop silent.
Alora squeals and kicks in her stroller, and for a second, I think she might be the only one of us not stunned by what’s happening.
His hands are steady as he takes mine, but his voice is rough as gravel.
“Dina,” he says, “I know there’s no fixing the past, but I can promise you everything I have now.
I want you. I want us to be a family, official, out loud, in front of everyone who matters.
” He glances up, the blue of his eyes brighter than the sky, and in that moment, I want to crawl into him and never leave.
“Will you accept the bond? Will you be my mate?”
The words land like an earthquake, shaking loose something I didn’t know I was still holding back.
There’s no clever retort, no armor, just a tidal wave of yes that nearly knocks me over.
I nod, then choke out, “Yes. Yes, yes, I will.” The pack erupts in cheers, and I can hear Ruby shriek from somewhere behind me, and the sound makes me laugh through my happy tears.
I pull Caleb up from the ground and hug him.
He wraps his arms around me, lifts me off my feet, and spins me in a circle, laughter rolling out of him in a way I’ve never heard before.
It’s a sound so pure and happy that it makes everyone else’s joy seem small by comparison.
When he sets me down, he’s still holding my hand, and neither of us lets go.
Luna appears at our side, her eyes shining. She’s holding a blue silk cord and a sprig of wild rosemary, which I recognize from the old rites. She gestures for us to join her at the stone ring in the center of the green, and the crowd presses in, the entire square vibrating with excitement.
I glance at Caleb, searching for any sign that this is all a joke, but he’s deadly serious, and so am I. Alora is suddenly in my arms, and she grabs the cord with both hands, waving it like a trophy. I want to hold her and Caleb and never let go of this moment.
Luna clears her throat, and even the smallest kids hush. Her voice is steady and bright. “We gather here to recognize the bond between Dina and Caleb, not just as pack, but as mates, as partners, as family. Let the moon and the mountains witness this promise.”
She ties the cord around our wrists, then holds the sprig of rosemary between our palms. “May this bond be strong as stone, and soft as the spring rain. May you find comfort in each other’s strength and courage in each other’s doubts. Mates of Silvercreek.”
The crowd closes in as the ceremony concludes, and the fayre explodes into motion.
Music starts up from the bandstand, signaling the start of the celebrations.
A wave of people carries us toward the food tables, where three barbeques are being fired up, and bread and pastries are already being handed out.
Alora ends up in Skylar’s arms, eyes wide and transfixed by a flower crown Ruby is carefully arranging on her head.
I can’t stop smiling. My cheeks hurt. My whole body feels warm and loose, like I’ve just finished a run that went on forever.
Caleb doesn’t let go of my hand except to pass me a plate, or to catch Alora when she’s transferred back, or to pull me into a sudden, spinning hug when someone proposes a toast. Everywhere I look, people are smiling at us, not just politely, but with real, unabashed joy.
For the first time, I don’t feel like an outsider on display. I feel like I belong.