Page 36 of Wedding the Werepanther

I turn to the parchment tacked up beside the door. “What do you want me to do?”

“Start with the clothes.”

Victoria directs me to several of the trunks. It doesn’t take long to find a tuxedo that fits me, but when I hold up the wedding dress the house has in mind, I eye it dubiously. “The clothes you picked for the date made Kayla very uncomfortable. This dress seems to be cut the same.”

“It’s a classic hourglass style,”Victoria writes.“It’s formal and beautiful.”

“Kayla’s beautiful, and she’s not an hourglass. You shouldn’t try to force her to be one.”

“It’s the dress I want, and this ismydream wedding.”The words clear to be replaced by:“Plus, I think it’s the only one that will fit. She’s taller than a lot of women.”

“I love how tall she is.” At six-and-a-half feet in my fae form, I find my wife’s height perfect, just like the rest of her.

Opening trunk after trunk, I search for alternatives. Even though I know little about the history of human fashion, I can tell the clothes are of varying styles. The staleness of the scents indicates some of them are almost a good century old.

Yet no matter how hard I look, Victoria, unfortunately, turns out to be right. I get when I find a dress the correct size, but it falls apart the moment I pull it free, the ancient fabric sighing as it shreds under its own weight.

“Told you.”Gloating fills the air.

I wrangle the original wedding dress into my arms, the multiple layers of stiff mesh poking out of the skirt as if trying to escape.

Kayla’snotgoing to like this.

The next morning dawns muted and overcast, with the sounds of soft rain pattering all around. Victoria wanted today’s wedding ceremony to take place in the backyard in front of the wisteria-covered arbor, but that’s now a no-go.

I shoo Kayla into her office, knowing she longs to keep working, and spend my morning turning the living room into a wedding chapel.

“It’s too bad there’s so much other furniture in here now,”Victoria writes as I shove the couch up against the wall.

“This wasn’t always the living room?”

“No, that was in what’s now Kayla’s office.”

“Interesting.” This room is about twice the size of the office. I suppose that made sense when the family made their living from doing weddings, but I agree with Kayla’s decision to use this larger space as a living room.

Once I bring down everything Victoria wants from the attic, I do what the house tells me. I stop trying to persuade her it’s pointless to set up rows and rows of chairs when we aren’t going to have any guests. I can usually charm my way into winning most arguments, but the house proves incredibly stubborn. As alpha of my pack, my mother always used to say, “Pick your battles.” I now know what she means. A few chairs aren’t worth fighting over.

I spend the next few hours trying to meet the house’s exacting standards. When Victoria finally approves of all the decorations, kitchen-cupboard applause echoes down the hallway, and every piece of parchment I pass says:“It’s time! Get ready for the wedding!”

Kayla walks slowly from her office, Dewdrop flying right behind. The witch’s lips twist. “I guess we’re really doing this, huh?”

“You agreed to it,”Victoria writes.

“Because you hid it in the fine print,” Kayla snaps.

I agree with Kayla—weweretricked into this—but I can’t match her indignation, no matter how much I understand it, because Victoria’s goal aligns with mine.

“I hung your dress on your closet door,” I say.

“Thanks.” As Kayla climbs the stairs, Dewdrop chirps in what sounds like an attempt to cheer her up. Her soft laugh drifts back to me, and I smile.

No matter what, this will all work out. I’ll do whatever’s needed to make it so.

“I do look exceedingly handsome in a tuxedo.” I spin in front of the mirror in my bedroom, admiring the way the cut of the jacket emphasizes my shoulders. “But then, I make everything look good.”

“Yes, yes, you’re very pretty,”Victoria writes.

“What’s got you in such a tizzy?”