(Lola’s POV)

I never thought I'd be nervous walking down an aisle. I'd faced down rogue wolves, battled insecurities, survived prophecy and training and expectations. But nothing had prepared me for this.

For the soft flutter in my belly.

For the tremble in my fingers as Eleanora, my mother, fastened the final clasp on my gown.

“You look like moonlight,” she whispered, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “My baby.”

I met her eyes in the mirror, eyes that had seen me through every phase of my life. And now, they shimmered with unshed tears and pride.

“You’re not losing me,” I said gently, turning to take her...