Marlowe
The homestead had never looked more beautiful than it did on the morning of Nova's wedding, wildflowers woven through the wooden arch King and Grant had built together over the past several weekends, the whole property transformed into exactly the warm, personal celebration Nova had described wanting from the very first planning session.
I found her in the small room off the new garage bay we'd converted into a getting-ready space, and the sight of her in her dress — simple, elegant, considerably more polished than her usual practical wardrobe — stole my breath entirely.
"You look incredible."
"I feel ridiculous," Nova admitted, tugging nervously at the fabric. "I've fought actual Blackfang riders with less anxiety than I'm feeling right now."
"That's normal. I think." I settl
