They had a shotgun wedding. At least, that was what the pack took to calling it even though both participants were ready and willing and hadn’t been forced into it. Still, the fact that Dylan was very pregnant by the time the wedding came about—at five months along—was inescapable.

Of course, the pack had known for a very long time now that their bachelor leader was finally getting hitched. Though there was no official announcement that the two were dating, wolves were not stupid. Dylan smelled of Ryan and Ryan smelled of Dylan. There was no end in sight where the joking and teasing was involved.

Ryan didn’t much care. In a way, he even enjoyed it because Dylan would blush and stammer every time someone made an offhand comment about their situation; there was nothing in the world that was more adorable to him than an embarrassed Dylan, red-faced and uncertain.

And despite the jibes and pretend scorn, everyone seemed truly happy for them. Ryan never doubted his effectiveness as a leader, though he did sometimes doubt his overall popularity. The two were not always one and the same. He was a man of hard truths who got right to the point and even when his ways resulted in clarity and better decision-making, people didn’t always appreciate that method. But now, with all the congratulations being tossed their way, with honest happiness, he was certain that he was doing the right thing.

The wedding took place at a pack meeting, as both he and Dylan had decided that they neither wanted nor could afford a big, fancy celebration held in a church somewhere. Oh, sure, Ryan could pay for it, but they both decided that there were things in the future which that money would be best saved for.

A nursery, for example. And hospital bills.

They didn’t hire any decorators or professional chefs, and there was no ten-tier cake to be delivered. Instead, they decorated with the help of a handful of volunteers earlier in the day, and while the effect wasn’t fancy, Ryan thought it still looked quite nice. Someone had brought a white arch that they had just sitting around in their garage after changing the style of their garden. There were streamers draped all over the pavilion, and someone had brought a tank of helium and too many packs of balloons.

Hunter insisted on all the balloons being blown up and as a result, the pavilion looked on the verge of flying away if a particularly strong gust of wind came by.

Really the only thing that had to be arranged in more detail was the priest who would marry them, but there just so happened to be a priest in the pack. Ryan didn’t much understand religion on the best of days, and he had a hard time associating any God with himself, as he was a creature who flew right in the face of everything he knew about the Creation myths, but it wasn’t his place to judge.

Ryan wasn’t nervous about any of this, as he thought he might be. Instead, he saw it as a new beginning, and he couldn’t wait to see where it led.

After all the decorations were put into place, everyone went about the rest of their day until early evening. At that point, Ryan drove himself, Dylan, and Hunter back to the park to await the arrival of their guests. Hunter wore a suit, looking a little awkward in the finery, but it didn’t stop him from playing around in the grass when he got bored of waiting.

It was only at this point that Ryan felt a bit nervous, waiting for the guests to trickle in. However, it was a good sort of nervousness, rather more like eager anticipation. He felt like a child, climbing up to the top of a roller coaster track.

Maybe Dylan’s analogy wasn’t so far off after all.

Eventually the guests arrived, and they didn’t trickle. They flowed. They flooded. They came in droves, in entire groups, in pairs, filling the parking lot immediately so that the others who came behind them had to fight over spots in the grass. Ryan kept waiting for this endless river of people to reach its finale, but just as soon as he finished greeting one pack member, five more had arrived and were clamoring to meet him.

The pavilion seats were quickly taken up. The cheap chairs they had rented and set out, just in case, were also claimed. More than half of the attendees had to stand or sit in the grass, though some perched on the picnic tables.

Dylan had sent out invitations to every member of the pack, which they had agreed was the polite thing to do. They had expected the usual amount of people to show up, the regulars who were present at every pack meeting. Looking around, Ryan realized that if the whole entire pack wasn’t here, it was pretty damn close.

A lump of gratitude and love for his people rose in his throat, threatening to choke him.

As they hadn’t hired any official catering for the wedding, the invitations had included a gentle request for guests to bring this or that if they wanted to. In essence, it was going to be a potluck, as it always was when they had meetings.

However, nothing was predictable about this event and nearly everyone brought something. Ryan saw entire roasted chickens and enormous quantities of meatloaf and roast, with an inordinate amount of various potato dishes to serve as sides. There were salads, both of the fruit and vegetable nature, and slaws, and beans, and so many more. Cookies, store-bought and homemade, made up the vast bulk of the desserts, though someone had brought far too many pies, and loaves of dessert breads, puddings, gelatins, and other assorted pastries were also present. There was enough food all crammed into this one space to feed the entire state of Virginia.

At long last, the flow of guests finally did slow down to a trickle, then an intermittent dribble. By the time the ceremony was about to begin, everyone who was going to be there was there.

There wasn’t any music, but as Ryan took his place in front of the arch, some wolf in the audience hummed a few bars of the Wedding March. A wave of laughter spread out, and then a full quarter of the guests were also humming and whistling the theme. Ryan grinned broadly.

I love all of you. I’m so glad that I get to be part of this.

Dylan joined him at the arch and Ryan couldn’t look away from him. Before all this, he would have simply declared his best friend to be dressed smartly, or handsomely. And while these descriptions were accurate, they just didn’t tell the whole story.

The suit was white with black accents, a fine contrast to Ryan’s own tuxedo, which was black with white trim. Dylan’s outfit fit like a glove, accenting all the best parts of him, including his distended stomach. His hair had been painstakingly styled, or at least styled as much as its short length would allow. His eyes shimmered like light on water, brilliant with happiness. The smile he wore was almost too big for his face.

Ryan saw himself reflected in those eyes as he took Dylan’s hands in his own, though he hardly recognized himself. Who was that handsome devil, ready to be a father, ready to be part of a family? Certainly not him, the bachelor.

But it was him and he was nearly bowled over by the sense of vertigo as he realized just how much he had changed in such a short period of time. He was hardly listening to the ceremony as it began, the priest droning on with the customary words meant to thoroughly explain what exactly marriage meant. All he could do was look into Dylan’s eyes and marvel at how they had come together. All their trials and tribulations had led to this.

The well had led them to this.

He managed to tear his gaze from Dylan for just an instant and looked out over the crowd, searching for one guest in particular. He was looking for Joshua Silver, the wolf who he had sent to the wishing well before following up with his own visit. Josh was easy to find and not in the least because he was standing by the table covered in desserts, most of which he had made himself in his new bakery. No, he was easy to find because the man standing at his side was huge and rough around the edges, wearing a leather jacket over his suit.

The man was Josh’s mate, the punk Josh had seen when he looked in the well. And he was clearly still a punk, and probably always would be a rebel at heart, but he was also smiling and holding their infant daughter.

There had been a time when Ryan contested that joining of theirs, not trusting the man. He knew now that he had been so incredibly wrong. Looking into the well left no choice. It spoke the truth, in one way or another. A mate was a mate. Love was love. That was all there was to it.

It seemed to him that, for just a moment, he and Josh locked eyes. An understanding passed between them.

And then he was being pulled back into reality as Hunter approached bearing the rings, which were simple golden bands, and I-do’s were being exchanged. They kissed, deeply, lovingly, while their audience congratulated them from afar.

Life had never been more perfect.