He’d written his vows three times, discarding each version as inadequate. In the end, he’d decided to speak from the heart—aterrifying prospect for a man who’d spent twenty years avoiding that particular organ.
“I spent my life believing control was safety.” His voice carried across the garden, steady despite the emotion behind it. “I built barriers. I maintained distance. I convinced myself that discipline was the same as strength, and that wanting things was weakness.”
He looked at Junie—at her eyes bright with tears, at the smile trembling on her lips.
“You destroyed that belief.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “You walked into my life with your chaos and your jokes and your absolute refusal to be managed, and you showed me that everything I thought was protecting me was killing me. Slowly. Quietly. One empty day at a time.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd. His pride members looked startled—they’d never heard him speak like this. They’d never seen him feel like this.
“I’m grateful.” Leo continued. “Not because you completed me—I wasn’t broken. But because you showed me I could be more. That I could be strong and soft. Controlled and joyful. That I could choose happiness instead of surviving.”
He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
“I choose you, Juniper Reed. Today and every day. Not because fate decided, but because I decide. I choose your chaos. I choose your laughter. I choose the life we’re building and the home we’ve found.” His voice dropped, rough with emotion. “I choose you.”
Junie’s tears fell faster, but she was smiling—that brilliant, unguarded smile he’d only seen a handful of times. When she spoke, her voice was shaky but clear.
“I spent my life hiding behind jokes. If I kept people laughing, they weren’t looking too closely. If I never let anyonein, they couldn’t hurt me when they left.” She swallowed hard. “And people always left.”
Leo wanted to pull her into his arms, but he made himself wait. This was her moment.
“You looked anyway.” Her eyes held his. “You saw me. Not the jokes, not the deflection, not the performance. You saw the chaos and the flaws and the fear underneath it all. And you stayed.”
The crowd was silent. Even Elder Sue had stopped smirking.
“I spent so long being afraid.” Junie continued. “Afraid of wanting things I might lose. Afraid of letting people close enough to matter. But you taught me that the scary things are the ones worth having. You taught me that love isn’t loss waiting to happen. It’s a choice you make every day. A choice to stay, to try, to build.”
She squeezed his hand.
“I choose you, Leo Castellan. Your discipline and your unexpected gentleness, and the way you see past every defense I’ve built. I choose the life we’re making here, in this town that’s become our home. I choose the chaos and the calm and everything in between.”
She rose on her toes, bringing her lips close to his ear.
“And I choose what comes next.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
LEO
The ceremony concluded with traditional blessings—Theo’s acknowledgment as Alpha, Avine’s blessing as the coven’s representative, Elder Sue’s smug pronouncement that they were now formally recognized as mated.
But the claiming itself—that was private.
Leo managed to endure approximately forty-five minutes of congratulations, champagne toasts, and Bella Marini’s insistence that he wasn’t eating enough before Junie caught his eye across the garden. Her expression said everything:Now.
They slipped away while Beck was entertaining the crowd with a story about the time Theo had accidentally shifted during a council meeting. The path to Leo’s suite at the Siren’s Rest had never felt so long.
“We’re being rude,” Junie murmured as they climbed the stairs.
“We’re being efficient.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
He pulled her into the suite and kicked the door closed behind them.
And then his mouth was on hers, hungry and demanding. She kissed him back with equal intensity, her fingers working at his jacket, shoving it off his shoulders. His hands found the zipper at her back, and the dress pooled at her feet in a whisper of lace.
“Beautiful.” His voice came out rough. His eyes tracked over her body—the ivory lingerie she’d chosen, the curves and freckles and scars that made her uniquely herself. “You’re so damn beautiful.”
