Chapter 11 - Fern
The white dress feels like a shroud.
I stand in front of the mirror in the guest room as two women I barely know fuss over me, adjusting the fabric and pinning my hair. Luna works on the left side while Skylar handles the right, both of them chattering about how beautiful the ceremony will be and how lucky I am.
Lucky. Definitely not the word I’d use.
“You’re going to love the Hollow at night,” Luna gushes as she weaves a small white flower into my hair. “It’s magical with all the torches and the moonlight filtering through the trees.”
“I’m sure,” I reply flatly.
Skylar catches my eye in the mirror and offers a sympathetic smile. “I know this isn’t what you planned, but Connor’s a good man, Fern. One of the best. He’ll take care of you.”
“He dragged me out of the medical center and threw me over his shoulder like a caveman.”
“Because he was scared for you,” Luna insists as she adjusts another pin in my hair. “I’ve never seen him like that before. Whatever’s happening between you two, it’s real.”
I want to argue, to tell them that fear doesn’t justify control, and protection shouldn’t feel like imprisonment. But the words stick in my throat because part of me—a small, traitorous part—wonders if they’re right.
The dress is simple, at least. White cotton that falls to mid-calf with short sleeves and a fitted bodice.
Nothing fancy, nothing that screams bride.
Just a dress that happens to be white. I tug at the neckline and watch Luna’s reflection as she works, her fingers nimble and sure as she tucks flowers between strands of my hair.
“How did you do it?” I ask after a moment. “When your name was drawn, when you found out you were matched with Nic… how did you accept it?”
Luna’s hands pause for a moment before resuming their work. “I didn’t. Not at first. I fought it every step of the way. I was convinced the lottery was barbaric and that being forced to mate with someone was no better than slavery. I hated Nic for most of the trials.”
“What changed?”
“I got to know him. Not the Alpha, not the pack leader, but him. The man beneath all that responsibility. I learned that he was just as trapped as I was, just as scared. And somewhere along the way, fighting against the bond became fighting for something together.”
Skylar nods from my other side. “The mate bond isn’t about losing yourself. It’s about finding someone who makes you stronger. Who sees all your broken pieces and helps you put them back together.”
My phone vibrates on the dresser, and all three of us freeze.
I don’t need to look at it to know who it is. The familiar dread pools in my stomach as I cross the room and pick it up with trembling hands.
Another unknown number.
You can’t hide from me forever.
I’m coming for you.
You think you’re safe? Think again.
The room tilts, and I grab the edge of the dresser to steady myself.
This is why I’m doing this. This is why I’m putting on this white dress and walking into a ceremony I never wanted.
Because Robbie will never stop. Running hasn’t worked, hiding hasn’t worked, and I’m so tired of being afraid all the time.
Maybe connecting myself to Connor, to the pack, is the only way to finally be safe. Maybe this forced bond is the protection I need, even if it’s not the freedom I want. But what if I’m just walking from one screwed-up situation into another?
“Fern?” Skylar’s voice cuts through the fog. “Are you okay?”
I set the phone face-down on the dresser and turn back to them with my hands still shaking. “I’m fine. Just… is there any way out of this? Any way to call it off?”
Luna and Skylar exchange glances, and something passes between them.
“You could say no,” Luna admits as she sets down the hairpin she was holding.
“Right up until the moment you speak your vows, you can walk away. But Fern…” She moves to stand in front of me and takes both my hands.
“I know what it’s like to be chosen by the lottery when you’re not ready.
I know what it’s like to feel trapped by tradition and fate and circumstances beyond your control. ”
“Then you understand why I can’t do this.”
“I understand why you’re scared, but I also understand that sometimes the thing we’re most afraid of is exactly what we need.
” Luna squeezes my hands tighter. “The mate bond isn’t a cage.
It’s protection, yes, but it’s also a connection.
Partnership. Someone who will stand beside you no matter what comes. ”
“Connor doesn’t even know me.”
“Not yet. But he will.” Skylar joins us and places a hand on my shoulder. “And you’ll know him, too. The bond works both ways, Fern, and together, you’ll be stronger together than you ever could be apart.”
I want to believe them. God, I want to believe that this could be something other than another man trying to own me. But every instinct I’ve honed over the past six months is telling me to run, to get out while I still can, to choose freedom over safety.
Except I’m not free. I haven’t been free since the day I met Robbie. Every day since then has been borrowed time and survival mode.
Maybe this is the only way to stop running. Maybe the pack’s protection is worth the price of my autonomy.
Maybe I’m just tired of being alone.
“Are you ready?” Skylar asks, trying for a smile.
I look at myself in the mirror one last time.
The woman staring back at me is a stranger—hair pinned up with white flowers, wearing a dress meant for celebration, about to bind herself to a werewolf she barely knows.
My face is pale despite Skylar’s attempts with makeup, and my eyes look too wide, too frightened.
But beneath the fear, there’s something else. A tiny spark of hope I’m terrified to acknowledge.
“No,” I whisper. Then, louder, “But let’s do it anyway.”
Luna and Skylar flank me as we leave the guest room and make our way downstairs.
The pack house is bustling with activity as people rush around making final preparations.
I catch glimpses of decorations being hung and food being arranged on long tables, and the reality of what’s about to happen crashes over me like a wave.
This isn’t just a quiet ceremony between two people. This is a pack event. A celebration.
They actually want this. Want me to be part of them.
We step outside, and the cool evening wraps around me like a blanket as we follow a torchlit path through the trees. The same path I stumbled down days ago when I accidentally wandered into Connor’s lottery. The path that changed everything.
My feet crunch through fallen leaves as we walk, and I can hear music drifting from somewhere ahead. Drums, maybe, or something more primal. The rhythm pulses through the ground and up through my bones.
The Hollow appears before us, transformed from the last time I saw it.
Dozens of torches ring the clearing and send dancing shadows across the massive trunk of the Mother Tree.
The entire pack has gathered, filling the space with bodies and voices and energy that thrums through everything.
They’re dressed in everything from casual clothes to what must be ceremonial attire, and every face turns toward us as we approach.
Everyone is here. Everyone came to watch me bind myself to Connor for the rest of my life.
My legs lock up, refusing to carry me forward. Luna notices and loops her arm through mine.
“Breathe,” she instructs. “Just breathe and put one foot in front of the other. That’s all you have to do right now.”
We move through the crowd together as people step aside to let us pass. I catch snippets of whispers as we pass—"human,” “unprecedented,” “what was Elder Amelia thinking”—but Luna keeps me moving forward until we reach the center of the clearing.
Connor stands beside Elder Amelia, dressed in dark pants and a white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His black hair is damp like he showered recently, and his blue eyes track every step of my approach.
When I’m close enough, he extends a hand toward me. I stare at it for a long moment before placing my palm in his. His skin is warm—warmer than mine, warmer than any human’s should be—and his fingers close gently around my hand.
The contact sends a jolt through my system. Not painful, just… present and all-consuming.
Luna and Skylar step back, leaving me alone with Connor in the center of the circle.
“You came,” he says, keeping his voice pitched low enough that only I can hear.
“Did I have a choice?”
He brushes his thumb across my knuckles. “You always have a choice, Fern. Even now.”
The words should comfort me, but they don’t. Because we both know I don’t really have options anymore. Not with Robbie hunting me. Not with the pack’s protection hanging in the balance. Not with nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to.
This is survival. This is what I have to do to stay alive.
Elder Amelia raises her weathered hands, and the crowd falls silent. The old woman’s eyes find mine, and for a moment, I see something almost like compassion in their depths. Like she knows exactly what this is costing me.
“We gather tonight to witness the bonding of Connor Langley and Fern Ramos,” she begins. “A union blessed by the spirits and sanctioned by the pack.”
I barely hear the rest of her words. My heart is pounding too loud in my ears, drowning out everything except the feel of Connor’s hand in mine and the weight of dozens of eyes watching us. The torches flicker around the clearing, and somewhere in the forest, an owl calls out.
This is happening. This is really happening.
“…do you, Connor Langley, accept Fern Ramos as your mate? To protect her, to honor her, to walk beside her for all your days?”
“I do.” His voice is steady, certain, like he has no doubts about what we’re doing here. Like this is exactly where he wants to be.
Amelia turns to me, and my throat closes up as panic claws at my chest.