Thoren
Nathan guided Nevara slowly between the rows of guests. I had imagined this moment through countless sleepless nights.
By the time they reached the altar, my hands had curled into fists at my sides, not from fear or anger, but from the effort required to remain where I stood rather than crossing the final distance myself.
Nathan stopped before me.
He looked at Nevara, then at me, his expression carrying pride, grief, and a quiet warning that required no words.
Finally, he placed her hand into mine.
“Take care of her,” he said.
I closed my fingers gently around hers. “For the rest of my life.”
Nathan held my gaze for another second before nodding. He kissed Nevara’s cheek and moved toward his seat beside Natalie.
Nevara stepped closer.
The officiant smiled and motioned for
