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“You look beautiful, aunty,” Clarissa cooed from her chair as she watched Mary add the finishing touches to her hair. Crystal flowers decorated an elaborate up-do similar to her own.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening.” Rachel dabbed at her eyes.

The spell impacting her memory had been fully lifted six weeks ago. They’d explained it to the non-supernatural people in their lives by saying it was an undetected infection found while she was in the hospital recovering from the fire. They were able to get rid of it with a set of IV antibiotics administered by a doctor at their home. No one questioned it.

Rachel had confessed to Clarissa she remembered all of her bad days. She’d cried and apologized profusely for what she put her through. Meanwhile, Clarissa had cried tears of joy and relief at having her aunt back.

Clasping a delicate necklace onto Rachel, Clarissa rested her chin on her shoulder. “You ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Rachel said.

“Chin up, you’ll go far, girl.” Clarissa held her hand as they got up and made their way downstairs.

Picking up her bouquet of white roses, she handed the other to Rachel. The wedding march sounded from the back lawns. The porch doors opened to reveal the whole pack, her fellow diner workers, and the entire Fairville precinct sitting in rows of white chairs.

Beaming at her new family, she walked down the aisle. The balmy summer air kissed her skin. The navy blue satin dress she wore matched the sapphire ring settled on her left hand. It was oval and set in a halo of diamonds, and absolutely perfect, because of the man who’d given it to her.

Her dress was strappy, long ribbons crisscrossing down an open back. For the first time, she didn’t mind showing off.

Standing next to the flower-covered arch, she watched Rachel come out of the house next. She was stunning in a vintage-cut white satin gown. Her eyes swam as Tom walked her down the aisle to where Sheriff Greg stood waiting. He and Tom looked dashing in their black tuxes, the vests and bow ties navy blue.

Stopping at the arch, Tom kissed Rachel on the forehead and sat in the front row.

Tears spilled down Clarissa’s face as she watched her newly revived aunt get her happily ever after. She couldn’t think of anyone more deserving.

Two hours later, Rachel and Greg were married, and everyone had a lovely feast provided by the army of chefs in the pack. Music now echoed under a giant white canopy. Tom had taken his jacket off, rolling up his sleeves to enjoy the party. He held her close as they swayed on the dance floor under the awning.

Clarissa switched between people watching and staring helplessly up at Tom. Guests were making their way to Rachel and Greg, offering congratulations. Some of the younger pack members were making fools of themselves dancing wildly. She loved every minute of it.

Being in Tom’s house, the pack’s house, she was constantly surrounded by people. People who asked nothing of her other than for her to be herself. Spending weekends baking with them, staying up late to watch movies with a group of rowdy teens. She didn’t feel alone, and she’d made more friends than she’d ever had before.

Maria and Sam sat together, their newborn cradled in Maria’s arms as Sam held her. A healthy baby boy, who she’d conceded to name Levi.

Even Thressa was there, in a black velvet corset dress, her raven hair pinned up, her lips painted blood red today. Over their time working out the spell, she and Rachel had become unlikely friends. She went up to Rachel and kissed her full on the mouth, offering her congratulations. After shaking Greg’s hand, she went back to dancing with various men and women in the pack.

Clarissa was happy to see the witch was well again. Her face was full and her eyes bright. Maria had explained spell casting took more than energy from the caster. The last time Clarissa saw Thressa, her face was gaunt and worn, and her hair looked brittle and dull. She idly wondered how witches replenished themselves.

Jeff and Eugene swayed in small circles next to them. Every now and then, Sara and Nathon twirled by in dramatic, graceful spins. Sylvia and her husband danced with their children, holding hands in a circle.

Tom pulled her in closer. Cupping her face, he pulled her in for a kiss. Warmth spread through her. When she first left the hospital, Tom was cautious and guarded around her. Treating her as if the slightest thing would break her or send her running. It took a lot of late-night conversations and consistency before he relaxed.

He was her rock, her protector, and the love of her life. She had no intention of going anywhere.

“How did I get so lucky?” She held his face, brushing her thumb across his cheek.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.” He leaned in close. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she said.

“Not possible.”

Laughing, she lifted up on her toes and kissed him again.

The End