Page 323 of Salt Between the Wolves

Then the old woman spoke.

"Before witnesses, before the mountains, before the North itself, do you choose this bond?"

"I do," said Soren without hesitation.

Eira smiled faintly, knowing that some things never changed.

The elder turned toward her.

"And you, Eira Frostvein?"

Once, hearing that name spoken before a ritual would have filled her with dread, because it had meant duty, expectation, and obedience; now it was simply her name, and it belonged to her.

"I do."

The elder nodded, then lifted her staff and rested its end against the stone.

"The old words say that a mate stands behind her Alpha."

Silence settled over the cliff as Eira felt Soren glance toward her, not with warning or concern, but with quiet curiosity.

The elder continued.

"Do you stand behind the Alpha of Ironfang?"

A year ago Eira would have answered automatically, without thought or question, never imagining there could be another answer; now she smiled, small and certain, and shook her head.

"No."

A ripple moved through the gathered witnesses, not of surprise but of recognition, as though they already knew what was coming.

The elder's mouth twitched very slightly.

"What then?"

The wind caught at Eira's silver hair as the mountains stood behind her and the North stretched before her, and beside her stood the man who had finally learned how to let her choose.

Eira looked at Soren, then back at the elder.

"I do not stand behind him," she said, her voice carrying clearly across the cliff. "I stand with him."

Silence followed, not shocked silence but the kind that arrives when something settles exactly where it belongs.

The elder nodded once, satisfied, and stepped back.

"There is nothing more to ask."

No grand proclamation followed, no cheers or elaborate blessing—only the mountains, the wind, and the certainty of choices freely made.

The elder gestured toward the candles, and together Eira and Soren lowered their flames until the wicks touched; for a brief moment two separate lights burned side by side before becoming one.

The wind swept across the cliff, but the flame held, and a murmur passed through the gathered witnesses as the ritual came to its simple completion.

There were no chains, no vows of obedience, no promises demanded by law—only two people choosing each other.

Soren stepped closer, near enough that only she could hear him.

"I was beginning to worry."