The ceremony was at dusk. Greywood put on its best light—amber and rose and deep violet streaked across the sky like spilled wine. The courtyard behind the workshop had been transformed. String lights wound through the oak branches. Moon-flowers in mason jars on every surface. Sera's moon-pies cooling on the back table.
I dressed alone in the workshop. No ivory reception robe. No rune-stitching that took nineteen fittings. Just a simple cream shift with leather lacing. I'd stitched it myself. It fit perfectly.
Rory knocked and handed me a small bundle. Inside was a leather bracelet with a single charm—a tiny carved wolf's paw. Rory's stitching. Crooked but careful.
"He made that," Kael said behind him. "By himself. Took him three weeks."
I put it on. "Thank you, Rory."
Rory looked at
