The Howlcrest Werewolves Legacy
Chapter 25: Kissing Your Mate Legally

Chapter 25: Kissing Your Mate Legally

"So, this is the human girl."

What?!

I swallow hard again.

"She’s my mate," Tristan says simply.

Silence.

A long pause.

Then Lord Howlcrest nods once. "Then she is one of us."

And just like that... the tension cracks, replaced by the clinking of glasses and the shifting of chairs as everyone moves to the table.

Dinner is served.

The food is rich, roasted lamb, spiced vegetables, warm bread, but I barely taste any of it. I’m too focused on the conversations around me, the way Tristan’s hand brushes mine under the table, the subtle looks from his brothers.

It’s overwhelming, the weight of their expectations, the fact that I don’t fully understand what this mate bond means yet, and the knowledge that my life is shifting right under my feet.

But then... Tristan leans closer to me, his lips brushing my ear.

"You’re doing well," he murmurs.

And just like that, the world feels a little less heavy.

By the end of the meal, Lady Cressida announces that the mate ritual will happen soon, the final step before marriage.

Marriage.

The word rattles in my chest like a warning bell.

I’m still processing it all as we leave the Howlcrest estate. Tristan insists on escorting me home, his hand steady at my back the whole time, and when we finally reach my house, he pauses.

For a moment, I think he might kiss me again, but he doesn’t.

He just gives me a small, satisfied smile and a soft, "Goodnight, Olivia."

And then he turns, walking back into the night.

But later...

As I sit in my room, staring at the ceiling, I feel him.

A tug in my chest, a silent, invisible thread between us.

I creep to my window and pull the curtain back.

And there he is.

Tristan.

Standing beneath my window in the shadows, silent but present, like a guardian. Like he couldn’t bear to leave me completely.

My heart thuds against my ribs.

I don’t know if it’s the mate bond or something else entirely...

But I think I’m falling for him.

The first truce between humans and werewolves has been struck.

And I’m at the center of it.

I stand in the middle of the ancient Howlcrest clearing, a vast circle surrounded by towering pines, their branches swaying under the soft glow of the moon. The air hums with magic, a quiet pulse that seems to beat in time with my heart. Torches line the edges of the gathering, their flames flickering like silent witnesses.

Tonight is the werewolf mating ceremony, a tradition older than any of us, raw and untamed.

The crowd is a blend of both races, humans watching from the sides, wide-eyed and whispering, while the werewolves stand tall and proud, their glowing eyes catching every movement. It’s the first time both worlds have gathered like this, no tension... only curiosity.

And in the center of it all is Tristan.

My mate.

My future husband.

He looks devastatingly beautiful, a dark shirt unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair swept back from his chiseled face. His red eyes burn like embers as they rest on me, never straying, never wavering.

"You’re perfect," he murmurs, his voice a low rasp meant only for me.

I want to scoff, because I’m anything but perfect. My dress is simple, cream-colored with delicate lace trailing down my arms, and my hair is in soft waves over my shoulders. But when he looks at me like that...

I believe him.

The ceremony begins with the elders chanting words I don’t understand, ancient and guttural, their voices rising and falling like the wind. Tristan steps closer, his fingers brushing mine, and the second our skin touches, a spark ignites between us.

The mate bond.

It’s alive, thrumming between us like an invisible thread pulling us tighter, closer, deeper.

Then comes the blood vow, a single slice along his palm and mine. The small cut stings, but the moment our hands press together, our mingled blood dripping onto the earth below, the pain vanishes, replaced by a fierce, undeniable connection.

I feel him.

His emotions. His desire. His protectiveness.

It’s overwhelming, like being swallowed by a storm.

"Olivia," Tristan growls softly, his thumb stroking my jaw as the chants reach their peak. "You’re mine."

The final step, the kiss.

His lips claim mine in front of everyone, bold, possessive, and breathtaking. It’s not a soft kiss. It’s wild, like him, fangs grazing my bottom lip, his hand tangling in my hair, and a low growl rumbling from his chest.

The crowd howls, literally.

A chorus of wolves tipping their heads back and howling at the moon, the sound vibrating through my bones. The humans cheer too, clapping and laughing, their fear forgotten for now.

The first bond between a human and a werewolf... sealed.

But it doesn’t end there.

Because next comes the wedding.

The ceremony is a blur, a more formal event held in the grand Howlcrest hall, decorated with dark roses and white silk. I exchange vows with Tristan, my voice trembling as I promise myself to him, and his steady and unwavering as he claims me once again, not just as his mate, but as his wife.

The rings slide onto our fingers, a band of silver etched with the Howlcrest crest for me, and a matching one for him.

And when the officiant declares us married, I feel my heart crack wide open.

Tears sting my eyes, a mix of joy, disbelief, and something else I can’t name.

Tristan notices. Of course, he notices.

"Olivia," he whispers, brushing a tear from my cheek with the rough pad of his thumb. "Why are you crying?"

"Because," I choke out, "I never thought this would be my life."

His smile is soft, a rare thing, something I’ve learned is reserved only for me.

"Believe it," he says.

Then, he kisses me again, softer this time, slow and deep, and the room erupts into applause.

I’m lifted off my feet before I know it, Tristan sweeping me into his arms as cheers and howls fill the hall.

The night blurs into a celebration, laughter, drinks, and music blending together as humans and werewolves toast to a new future.

His brothers smirk and offer half-serious warnings about being good to their Alpha while Lady Cressida watches with a pleased, yet enigmatic, smile.

And the Lord Alpha himself claps Tristan on the shoulder with a single nod of approval.

Boyd, my dog, sits happily at my feet through it all, his tail thumping every time Tristan’s hand brushes mine.

By the time the night ends, I’m exhausted, drunk on both wine and the weight of everything that’s happened.

Tristan walks me home, his hand never leaving mine, and when we reach my door, he doesn’t try to kiss me again.

Instead, he steps back, his crimson gaze burning into mine, and says softly, "You did well today, Olivia."

Then, with a final wave, he turns and disappears into the night.

But later... just like before...

I feel him.

That silent tug at my heart.

And when I glance out my window...

There he is, standing in the shadows once more.

Silent. Watching. Mine.

I press a hand to my chest, the wedding ring cool against my skin, and smile.

Because for the first time...

I’m not afraid of what comes next.