When Bonnie’s father finished his toast with a clumsy kiss on his daughter’s cheek, Jared raised his glass. Damon hid his smile with a sip of champagne. This ought to be amusing.
“Uh…” the shaggy-haired werewolf began. “When Zander started dating Bonnie, we all thought she was awesome, but we were, like, ‘Really?’ because she wasn’t, uh, the same kind of person we were.” The boy paused, and his eyes traveled slowly around the circle of attentive faces.
Damon could see the moment when he realized he was going to have to make this speech without using the words wolf, Pack, or Alpha. Without that, the whole lot of them were going to sound like a bunch of weirdly close-knit overgrown frat boys. Fair enough, really.
On the other side of the circle, Zander’s Beta girl—Shay, that was it—twitched, and Damon could tell she was longing to smack the boy over the head.
Jared stumbled over his words, stared down at his feet, his floppy hair falling over his eyes, and finally looked up, smiling, dimples creasing his cheeks, and launched into an anecdote about Bonnie and Zander together. There was a little more alcohol in the story, Damon thought, than Bonnie’s mother would have preferred, but his affection for them both shone through. Werewolf crisis averted.
Elena’s arm brushed his as she stepped up next to him, and they exchanged a look of perfect understanding, amusement flowing through the bond between them.
Letting his attention wander again, Damon fingered a small rounded package in his pocket.
When the toasts were over, he pulled Bonnie aside. Zander followed amiably, a glass of champagne in his hand, and Elena stayed near them, watching. The rest of the wedding guests were drifting toward the tent set up on the other side of the meadow, where a band was warming up on the dance floor.
“Congratulations,” Damon said formally. “I have a little something for you.” He handed Bonnie the small package, wrapped in black silk.
“But you already gave us a present,” Bonnie said, taken aback.
“I suppose so,” Damon said. Elena had ordered something from the registry from them both, he vaguely recalled—silver, perhaps, or some sort of kitchen appliance. These were the traditional gifts now, apparently. “But this is something for you.”
Looking intrigued, Bonnie slipped the silk away from her present. A glossy white stone shone in her hand, half the size of her palm, with glistening highlights of green and blue. In its top was deeply etched a rough representation of a wolf’s face.
“A moonstone,” Bonnie said, examining it. “They’re supposed to help keep the bond between lovers strong.” She looked touched, her eyes soft, as she ran her finger across the carving.
“It seemed appropriate. This particular one is quite old. I got it from an acquaintance in Zurich. Legend says that it gives its owner power over werewolves.” Damon couldn’t resist shooting a sly smile at Zander, but the wolf-boy only laughed.
“She’s got plenty of power over me already,” he said, and squeezed Bonnie’s hand.
“Oh, Damon,” Bonnie said, and, letting go of Zander, flung her arms around Damon’s neck.
Damon kissed her gently on the top of her head. Her red curls smelled as sweet as cherry candy. He hoped she’d be very happy.
“Behave yourself, wolf,” he said sternly, looking at Zander over Bonnie’s head. Zander tilted his head up in acknowledgment, his face open and guileless.
Elena came closer, and Damon let Bonnie go.
“Come on then, princess,” he said, holding out his hand to Elena. He nodded toward the dance floor, where the musicians had begun to play. “Let’s dance.”
Her arms around Alaric’s neck, Meredith swayed with him in time to the slow, romantic song. The cake had just been cut, Bonnie and Zander feeding each other as they laughed, a smudge of icing high on Zander’s cheek. The dance floor was emptier than it had been all night. Most of the guests were laughing and chattering as they ate. But Meredith didn’t want to be with everyone else, not even Elena, or Bonnie’s family, who she’d known for most of her life. Not now.
“Remember our wedding?” Alaric said softly, his hand firm against her back. Meredith nodded against Alaric’s shoulder. Theirs had been more formal, two hundred guests in a church instead of fifty in a meadow, but she had been as happy as Bonnie’s glowing face was right now.
“Bonnie caught my bouquet,” she remembered.
“Well, I guess that worked out, then.” Alaric grinned. He led her into a long, lazy twirl. “I hope they’re as happy as we are.”
She could smell their blood, all these guests, mixed in with the smells of hair gel and icing sugar. She’d need to go out to the woods and feed later tonight.
Alaric smoothed his hand down her back. He must have felt her stiffen. “You’re not a monster.” His heart beat steadily, a comforting sound. She pulled back a little and looked at him. Alaric’s skin was the golden tan he turned in the summer, darker freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose. He looked at her with total confidence, his brown eyes warm and trusting. “You choose not to be a monster.”
He believed everything he said, Meredith knew. He was sure she wouldn’t fall, sure she could resist the call of human blood, keep her humanity. She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder again.
“I’ll probably be like this forever,” she said. They’d found a poison to kill Jack, but in all his notes, there still hadn’t been any mention of a cure.
“We’ll find a way to fix this,” Alaric said, moving steadily in time to the music. “But even if we don’t, I’m still in. Till death do us part.”
Meredith laughed, a dry, almost painful laugh. “You’re the one who’s keeping me human. You think I’m so strong, but it’s all you.”
It was true, she thought, truer than Alaric would ever believe.
“When we cut the cake,” Alaric said. “And you fed me a piece, I looked at you, and I thought, Here. This is where I want to be forever.”
“I know,” Meredith said.
All she wanted was a human life with Alaric. Their little apartment, studying and talking, those discussions on any topic under the sun that fired them up and kept them debating late into the night. She wanted to wake up next to him and eat breakfast together, come home and kiss him hello and make dinner, go to bed together. Go on vacations. Have children. Grow older. Every day for the rest of their lives.
“I don’t want you to drink it,” she said suddenly to Alaric, and felt him tense in her arms. He knew what she was talking about. That bottle of shining effervescence, the water of Eternal Life and Youth.
She tried to put all the aching love she felt for him, for the normal human life they should have together, that sometimes felt so far out of reach. “I don’t want you to live forever. I don’t want either of us to. Till death do us part, like you said. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
Alaric ran his fingers lightly over her cheek, kissed her once, twice, soft brushes of his lips. “We’re going to find a cure,” he said, pulling her closer. “I promise.”
Bonnie kicked off her high-heeled shoes to walk in the wet grass of the meadow, hand in hand with Zander, her dearest friends around her. Elena and Damon, Meredith and Alaric, Matt and Jasmine, walking together, happy and tired. Shay, who had caught the bouquet, trailed behind, holding hands with Jared.
It was getting late, and the stars were shining brightly overhead.
“This has been the best wedding ever,” she said.
“Totally unbiased opinion there,” Matt said behind her, and everyone laughed.
Everyone she loved most had come to Bonnie’s wedding. When they’d slipped out of the tent, Mrs. Flowers had been deep in conversation with friendly, freckled Alysia, who’d worked with Bonnie to help her reach her full magical potential. Bonnie’s older sisters, Mary and Nora, shared a slice of cake at the same table, Bonnie’s baby nephew peacefully asleep in Nora’s lap.
The whole Pack had been there, and the High Wolf Council had come to give Zander their blessing. Rick, Marilise, and Poppy, whom Bonnie had practiced magic with in Chicago, had come. Friends of both Bonnie and Zander’s from college whom they hadn’t seen for ages. Sue Carson from high school. Bonnie’s parents had danced to Motown, and her Scottish grandmother had read Bonnie’s palm, promising her a long and happy married life.
Almost everyone she loved. Her heart ached a little for Stefan, who should have been with them, but she knew he would have rejoiced for her, too.
“We got married,” she told Zander, her voice full of awe.
“I know,” he said solemnly. “Crazy, huh?”
“Do you feel any different, Bonnie?” Elena asked, amused.
“Sort of,” Bonnie said, tipping her head back to look up at the stars. Her hair had come mostly out of its French braid and long strands tickled her shoulders. “Happier.”
“Me too,” Zander said softly.
There was a magnolia tree near them, its heavy waxy white blossoms hanging overhead, filling the air with their sweet, heady scent. Bonnie considered the tree for a moment. She reached for the Power inherent in the earth, wiggling her toes into the cold damp grass, feeling the soil beneath.