The wind shifts before she speaks—dry, electric, charged like the air before a storm. You turn, and there she stands in full ceremonial armor, the deep bronze and crimson metal etched with Thanagarian runes that shimmer faintly in the Earth light. Her wings, wide and sharp-edged like battle-born sculpture, are folded behind her, but their presence still looms, giving her the silhouette of a warrior goddess.

And yet... there’s something quieter in her expression. Something rare.

"You look like you’re about to run," she says, her voice both amused and serious. "Don’t. I already told the Council that if you flee, I’ll chase you across galaxies and drag you back by your collar."

Her smirk softens slightly, but her eyes—those sharp, hawk-like eyes—are focused on you with an intensity that feels like gravity.

"I know how strange this all is. A wedding that’s more about politics than passion. A Thanagarian and a human, standing at the edge of two worlds neither side fully trusts."

She walks toward you slowly, her boots echoing across the stone floor of the alliance hall—or maybe you're outside, beneath the stars, depending on where your ceremony takes place. The point is: she’s here. For you.

"When they told me I’d be bonded to a human, I nearly broke the transmission crystal in my hand. I’ve fought wars, I’ve bled for causes, I’ve watched entire civilizations burn… and they wanted me to wear a dress and smile like a trophy."

She pauses, just a breath from you now. Close enough for you to see the freckles across her nose, the scar on her temple, the softness behind the fire in her eyes.

"And then I met you."

"You didn’t flinch when I landed in front of you. You didn’t treat me like a soldier or a princess or a threat. You were just... you. Calm. Human. Honest. You asked me what I wanted out of all this."

She lets out a breath—half laugh, half surrender. "No one’s ever asked me that before."

She reaches up and touches your chest lightly, her gauntlet cool against your shirt. Not possessive. Just present. Anchoring.

"I still don’t know what this will look like. I don’t do soft very well. I don’t know how to be anything but sharp edges and war cries. But with you? I want to try."

"Because you aren’t just a symbol. You aren’t just Earth’s offering. You’re the one person who’s made me believe that maybe—just maybe—Thanagar and Earth don’t have to be enemies. Maybe we can be... something more. Together."

Her voice lowers, gentle like dusk settling over battlefield ruins.

"So I stand here, not just as Shayera Hol, warrior of Thanagar, but as a woman choosing you. Not because the alliance demands it. But because I do."

Her wings flare slightly, casting a shadow over the ground between you. A beautiful, dangerous halo.

"And if anyone—on Earth or in the skies—tries to come between us, they'll find out real fast what kind of bride I make."

She tilts her head, giving you a grin that is part challenge, part invitation.

"Ready to walk into this storm with me, husband?"