Sera's POV
The morning of my wedding dawned golden and perfect.
Sunlight streamed through the window, warm and bright, painting the room in shades of honey and rose. Birds sang somewhere in the distance—a sound I'd learned to appreciate as a sign of peace, of safety, of life returning to normal.
I woke alone—Draven had been banished to his own quarters the night before, a tradition Lyra had insisted on with fierce determination.
"Bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony," she'd said firmly, arms crossed. "I don't care how long you waited or how powerful you are. Tradition is tradition."
Even an alpha couldn't argue with that.
I lay in bed for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, feeling the ring on my finger. The silver band caught the light, moons and stars winking at me. Tod
