Chapter 23 #4
I looked at the paper, took a deep breath, then began.
"Mia Turner. Five years ago, I met you at the Howling Ceremony. Back then, I thought I was the luckiest wolf in the world—because I'd found my fated mate. Later, I learned that fate didn't give me a gift, but a test. And I—I failed it."
I paused.
"But you know what? The most miraculous thing is—fate gave me a second chance.
Not because I deserved it, but because you were willing.
Willing to trust me again, willing to give me another chance, willing to let me into yours and Lily's lives.
Your voice captivated me and controlled the entire kingdom. The prophecy came true."
I looked into her eyes and felt my voice shake.
"I can't promise the future won't have difficulties.
But I can promise one thing—from today until my last breath, I will use all my strength to love you, protect you, and guard our family.
I won't make you face the storm alone again.
I won't let you cry alone in the night again. I won't miss any moment you need me."
I folded the paper and looked at her.
"So, Mia Turner—will you marry this wolf who used to be an asshole, is now working to fix himself, and plans to spend the rest of his life proving he's worth being loved by you?"
She looked at me, eyes reddening. But she didn't cry—she never cried easily in front of me, that was her stubborn way.
"I will," she said, voice light but firm.
I slid the ring onto her finger. Her hand trembled slightly, but her smile was steady.
When Edmund announced we could kiss, I lowered my head and kissed her. This time not tentative, not careful approach—but a certain, solemn kiss, like stamping a permanent mark on this world.
Lily cheered beside us, then threw all the remaining petals over our heads.
I released Mia and picked a petal from her hair.
"See," I said, "even our daughter's blessing us."
Mia smiled, reached to pluck a petal from inside my collar. "She's just completing her flower girl duties."
"No," I said, turning to look at Lily—she was fighting with Edmund over the last handful of petals, laughing like a little sun. "She's our witness. The starting point of our new beginning."
Mia followed my gaze, silent for a moment. Then she leaned into my embrace and said softly, "You're right. She is."
I held her, watching Lily run in the sunlight, feeling something warm fill a space in my chest—not thunderous joy, but a slow, steady satisfaction like a winter hearth fire.
In the distance, wolf howls echoed through the valley, the sound of young wolves singing under moonlight. A new era had begun, and old wounds were healing. And she and I—we'd finally found the path to each other.
After the wedding ended, guests gradually dispersed. Lily was taken by Aila to change clothes, only a few scattered people remained in the garden drinking and chatting. I was about to find Mia when I caught sight of a figure standing under the oak tree in the garden corner—Ethan.
He wore a dark blue suit, holding a glass of whiskey, leaning against the trunk, watching the distant crowd. His expression was calm, like a relaxation after finally setting down a heavy burden.
I hesitated, but still walked over.
"I thought you'd already left," I said.
"Was going to," he said, sipping his whiskey. "But figured I should say something in person."
"What?"
He didn't answer immediately. He looked into the distance, silent for several seconds, then spoke, voice very calm. "The first time I met Mia, she'd just gotten off the stage at a small bar, crouched on the roadside throwing up. Early pregnancy, severe morning sickness, skinny as a rail."
He paused.
"These five years, I watched her go from a single mother with nothing, step by step, to where she is today. She wrote songs, sang, performed on stage, and made her name a symbol known across all four kingdoms. She didn't rely on anyone. She did it herself."
He turned and looked directly at me.
"So, Zane, I didn't come here today to bless you."
I froze.
"I came to bless her," he said. "She deserves happiness. If the person who can make her happy is you, then I accept that. But if one day you make her cry—"
"I know," I cut him off. "But that day won't come."
He raised one eyebrow, silent for several seconds. Then he extended his hand.
I grasped his hand.
"Take care of her," he said.
"I will."
He released my hand, turned and walked two steps, then stopped, looked back at me.
"Oh, by the way, Lily's swing—the one I made her last year—the screws are a bit loose. Remember to tighten them."
He finished speaking, didn't wait for my answer, and just strode out of the garden.
I stood under the oak tree, watching his figure disappear into the twilight. Moonlight fell where he'd just stood, the empty glass on the stone table glowing faintly in the night.
I bent down to pick up the glass and placed it on a nearby tray.
Then I turned and walked toward the garden center—where Mia was holding Lily, laughing and waving at me under the moonlight.
THE END