"Everyone, could I have your attention please?"
Stiles waits until he has their focus. "I need the Left Hand's left hand."
Peter steps forward and Stiles kneels down, pulling out a ring, his eyes never leaving Peter's. Peter stares wide eyed at the love of his life as he swallows around the lump in his throat.
"Left Hand Hale. Peter. My Mate. Marry me?" Stiles asks, he holds up an obsidian ring engraved with a silver triskele.
Peter sinks to his knees, kisses him and rests their foreheads together as the Hale Pack's Left Hand offers his left hand. "Yes."
