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.
Every kind of life was connected. Everything in the universe had its own Power. If there was one truth Bonnie had learned, it was that. Cupping her hands into the shape of a magnolia blossom, she curled her toes against the soil, thought of the distant stars, and lifted.
On the tree branch above, a magnolia blossom slowly began to fill with light. Another one lit, and then another, until the whole tree was gently glowing. Alaric let out a low sound of appreciation.
Bonnie flicked a finger, and a blossom detached itself from the tree. Borne up as if on a breeze, it floated gently into the sky. Another followed, then more, until a trail of glowing blossoms, like little lanterns, floated up above the trees. They hovered and dispersed, sailing off in all directions.
“Wow,” Matt said. Bonnie looked at him, looked at them all, their faces upturned and gently lit by the glowing blossoms and the stars.
“I’m going to miss you guys,” she said softly. But she smiled. Zander’s arms went around her waist, and he gently kissed her cheek.
It was all going to work out. No matter where Bonnie went, no matter what new danger threatened, she and her friends would never lose each other. Somehow, in that moment, Bonnie was sure of it.
Chapter 33
Still in her bridesmaid’s gown, Elena turned onto Maple Street and stopped the car in front of her childhood home. Her house, she reminded herself. Stefan had bought it for her.
Stefan. She curled into herself for a moment, pressing her forehead against the cool window as she looked at the house.
She had always intended to marry Stefan. She had felt like she was already married to him really, bonded together in all the ways that mattered. But she’d wanted the celebration, too. She’d thought about it idly: herself in an elegantly simple, flowing gown, her baby sister Margaret in the periwinkle-blue that brought out her eyes. Stefan, handsome and strong, his often melancholy eyes glowing with joy.
She’d counted on that wedding. But when you knew you had forever, there wasn’t a lot of impetus to do everything right away.
Then Stefan had died, and forever was over.
Elena straightened up and wiped at her eyes with both hands. They’d gotten their vengeance, she and Damon. They killed Stefan’s murderer. Jack had died in terrible pain, and at their hands.
It didn’t make any difference, though, not to the way Elena felt. They’d come home from Zurich, and the wound left by Stefan’s death was still raw inside her, a constant gnawing ache. After they’d killed Jack, she’d expected to feel better, to feel like she’d given Stefan something. But it hadn’t helped.
She’d never gotten to say good-bye to Stefan. Bonnie had tried so hard, but they hadn’t been able to find him.
And today, standing with the bridesmaids at Bonnie’s wedding, listening to the minister, she’d suddenly been flooded with thoughts of Damon. Damon, who’d looked up at her from the ground in that Swiss courtyard, blood streaming from his wounds, and told her he loved her. Damon, with whom she’d always had a special bond, even before the Guardians had made it literal. Gorgeous, sardonic, clever Damon.
Stefan’s brother.
She couldn’t love him back. Not the way he wanted her to, the way that maybe she wanted to, as well. Not while Stefan was still waiting for her, somewhere out of reach.