The sun bathed the pack grounds in golden light as Nyla strolled with Damon by the moonlit lake—his favorite spot, and now hers too. Everything had changed, yet somehow, this moment felt calm. Whole.
Damon paused, turning to face her. "You've brought peace to a world built on chaos, Nyla. You've faced exile, war, and Aunt Maris…"
Nyla smirked. "She *is* a force of nature."
Damon chuckled, then dropped to one knee. "But you—you're my anchor. My Luna. My love. Nyla, will you marry me?"
She gasped. "You mean like… mate-for-life, full-moon-crazy love, wedding bells and all?"
"Yes. All of it. With you."
"Yes!" she squealed, jumping into his arms, nearly knocking them both into the lake.
***
By the next day, the pack was in full wedding-planning chaos. Talia took charge as unofficial maid of honor, barking orders like a true alpha's best friend.
"Miracle, you're in charge of flowers. Keep the thorns away from Aunt Maris."
Miracle, now reformed and remorseful, nodded. "Got it. No thorns. No drama."
Beta Jace was wrangled into officiating. "I didn't know I was certified," he muttered.
"You're the beta. You're certified *enough,*" Talia said with a wink.
Meanwhile, Aunt Maris transformed the Luna's quarters into a bridal command center. "No wolfish nonsense," she warned. "We're doing this classy. Lace, not leather. And if anyone shows up shirtless, I will throw hands."
On the day of the wedding, the clearing was draped in moonlit silks and soft petals. Nyla walked down an aisle lined with glowing lanterns, her gown hugging her frame like moonlight wrapped in satin. Her eyes locked with Damon's—his dark suit tailored to perfection, his smile that of a man who had found home.
Vows were exchanged under the ancient Moon Tree, sacred to all packs. Damon's voice never wavered. "I vow to protect you, honor you, and love you in every form—human, wolf, or moody morning version."
Nyla smiled. "And I vow to never let you face your burdens alone. Even if it means wrestling another elder or surviving Aunt Maris' opinions."
The crowd chuckled. Aunt Maris dabbed her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief. "She better not cry too much. Her lashes are expensive."
***
At the reception, laughter echoed through the woods. Talia led a dance-off, Miracle caught the bouquet (awkwardly), and Aunt Maris hit the buffet like a woman on a mission.
Later that night, as the stars sparkled overhead, Aunt Maris pulled Nyla aside. "You've grown, Nyla. Into a Luna any pack would be lucky to have."
"I'm glad you came."
Maris squeezed her hand. "I always will. But now, I'll leave you with your wolves. Just don't forget—you're still my little girl. And if he ever messes up, I'm one enchanted phone call away."
With a dramatic wave, Aunt Maris left—suitcase wheeling behind her, sunglasses firmly back on, and a trail of sparkly perfume in her wake.
And as the night deepened, Damon and Nyla danced alone beneath the moon—Alpha and Luna, love-struck and finally home.