Chapter 79: The Promise Under the Cedar

Rowan proposed under the cedar.

Which was ridiculous.

We were already fated mates.

Bonded.

Living together half the time.

Politically entangled across multiple governments.

Still, he proposed.

I found him beneath the ancient tree at sunset.

No crowd.

No photographers.

No Rhea hiding badly in bushes.

At least I hoped.

He wore ordinary clothes.

Jeans.

Black shirt.

Nervous expression.

That was the strangest part.

"Why do you look like you're about to fight someone?"

"Maybe I am."

"Who?"

"My dignity."

He took out a small box.

I stopped.

"Rowan."

"Before you say anything—"

"Are you proposing?"

"You ruined the speech."

"You have a speech?"

"Had."

I started laughing.

He glared.

"This is serious."

"Sorry."

I wasn't.

He opened the box.

The ring was simple.

Silver band.

Small moonstone.

No enormous Alpha-family diamond.

I loved it immediately.

But Rowan didn't kneel yet.

Instead, he said:

"I know fate chose something before we did."

My laughter disappeared.

"I know our wolves recognized each other before we understood anything."

He looked directly at me.

"But I don't want the biggest promise of my human life to be something I assume because of that."

My chest tightened.

"So I'm asking."

Then he knelt.

"Nessa Arden, Alpha of Lunaris, terrifying critic of my dancing, thief of blankets, defender of terrible raspberry tea—"

"It's good tea."

"Please don't interrupt your proposal."

"Continue."

He smiled.

"Will you marry me because you want to?"

No prophecy.

No Moon Goddess.

No bloodline requirement.

A question.

Choice.

I started crying before answering.

"Yes."

His shoulders dropped so dramatically I laughed through tears.

"You were actually worried?"

"Obviously."

"We're bonded."

"You could still say no."

Exactly.

That was why it mattered.

"Yes," I repeated.

He slid the ring onto my finger.

Perfect fit.

Suspicious.

"How did you know my size?"

"Tessa."

"Traitor."

A branch snapped.

I looked toward the bushes.

"Rhea."

Silence.

"Come out."

Rhea, Tessa, Cassian, Mom, Dad, Adrian, Rowan's grandmother, and approximately twelve Lunaris wolves emerged.

I stared at Rowan.

"You said private?"

"I said no such thing."

"You implied private."

Tessa was crying.

Rhea was filming.

"Delete that."

"Historical record."

"Rhea!"

Everyone surrounded us.

Mom hugged me.

Dad hugged Rowan so hard he nearly fell over.

Adrian shook his son's hand and then abandoned dignity to hug him too.

Lady Celeste inspected my ring.

"Good. Not obnoxious."

"Thank you?"

"The Vale vault has monstrosities."

Rowan sighed.

Celebration lasted until midnight.

Then everyone finally left.

I returned beneath the cedar alone.

Rowan followed.

"Regretting it?"

"The engagement?"

"Yes."

"It's been four hours."

"Long four hours."

I hit his shoulder.

He sat beside me.

We looked up through the branches.

This tree had watched Lunaris fall.

Watched survivors return.

Watched me become Alpha.

Watched laws rediscovered.

Mate bonds questioned.

Families rebuilt.

Now this.

"When do you want to get married?" Rowan asked.

"I don't know."

"Tomorrow?"

"No."

"Next week?"

"No."

"Next month?"

"Stop."

He laughed.

I looked at the ring.

Marriage once meant something very different in Pack politics.

Mates merged territories.

Women became Lunas.

Children became succession tools.

Our wedding would trigger endless speculation.

Would Lunaris merge with Nightvale?

Would I become Supreme Luna?

Would our future children inherit both?

We already knew the answers.

No automatic merger.

No automatic title.

No automatic succession.

But the public would ask anyway.

"Small wedding," I said.

Rowan hesitated.

"Define small."

"Under fifty."

His face became tragic.

"My family alone is forty."

"Uninvite cousins."

"Orion will start a constitutional crisis."

"Fine. Under one hundred."

"Your Pack will riot."

I groaned.

"Why are we important?"

"Terrible mistake."

We eventually agreed on a Lunaris ceremony beneath the cedar.

Pack members could attend the public vow.

Dinner afterward would be limited.

No political delegations unless personally invited.

No ceremonial merger.

No Supreme Luna crown.

Rhea wanted ancient Lunaris vows.

I agreed to read them first.

She looked offended.

"Don't trust me?"

"Absolutely not."

Good instinct.

The original vow included language about a mate's blood becoming the Alpha's property.

We deleted it.

Rhea claimed historical vandalism.

I called it editing.

We wrote our own final line.

I choose you freely, and I will keep choosing while love remains freely given.

Rowan read it.

"That's not very eternal."

"Exactly."

He frowned.

"Explain."

"A promise means more if staying isn't compulsory."

He thought for a moment.

Then nodded.

"I like it."

I leaned against him.

The bond between us hummed warmly.

Fate existed.

I no longer needed to deny that.

But fate was the beginning.

Choice was everything after.

Under the cedar, with his ring on my finger and our future still unwritten, that felt like the only promise worth making.

Before bed, I removed the ring and stared at the faint mark it left on my finger. For a second, old instincts wanted to turn even this into proof: proof I had won, proof someone beautiful and powerful chose me, proof Knox had been wrong. I rejected that story. Rowan was not a trophy awarded after weight loss. Marriage was not revenge. I put the ring back on because I loved the man who had asked me a question and waited for my answer. That was enough.