My(Her) chosen mate

My cousin Katarina is getting married not to her fated mate but to the love of her life. I was ecstatic about the union but nervous about being her bridesmaid.
I took deep breaths feeling my nerves on end.
No one will be looking at me, but I hate any form of attention. I just have to walk through that aisle and get this over with.
I nod my head and wait for our cue.
I focus on the trees behind the alter.
The less eye contact I make the better.
I make it halfway down the alter before a snarl catches my attention.
I look up locking eyes with the most handsome man I had ever seen. Dark green eyes, dark slick combed back hair, tanned skin, tall and thick framed. He was built big. He had a broad upper body that was drool worthy!
The snarl had come from him, he was trembling with anger, barely holding it together.
He was standing at the alter underneath the twinkling lights of the gazebo in a suit and tie with green flowers pinned to his chest.
This was Cree.
The groom.
My mate.