Page 38 of Wedding the Werepanther

“That isn’t the way it’sdone,”Victoria writes.“The groom isn’t supposed to see you before the ceremony. He’s especially not supposed to walk you down the aisle.”

“No, that’s not the way itusedto be done,” Kayla says. “Lots of couples walk together down the aisle these days.”

“It’s not tradition, and I want tradition.”

“I have a solution.” Shoving through the heavy mass of the skirt, I wrap an arm around Kayla and step sideways onto the shadow roads. In a blink, we step back out into the entryway, directly outside the living room.

“You never told me you could do that!” She turns wide eyes on me.

I grin. “I have many talents you have yet to discover.”

Dewdrop flies down the stairs, chirping the whole way.

“Sorry! We took a shortcut.” Kayla listens to him for a moment, then says, “Of course you get to be there. You’re part of the family.”

I reach into the living room to snag the bouquet I left by the door. It’s silk flowers, like all of the other decorations I put up, and I vow that if I ever get to marry my witch for real, I want her to have fresh flowers instead, ones that smell like her.

“See, Victoria. We can still do it the way you want.” I glance at the foyer’s parchment. “I’ll go in and wait at the front, and you can play the music as Kayla walks down the aisle.”

“Yes!”The air prickles with a feeling of excitement.

“Dewdrop, do you want to come with me?” I hold out my arm. “I’ll make sure you get the best seat in the house.”

With a happy trill, the dragonet flies over to land on my forearm, and I walk into the living room.

Rows of folding wooden chairs line a wide aisle that runs down the center of the room to a small podium. Swathes of gauzy fabric loop along each wall, decorated with clusters of flowers. A small arch covered in flowers frames the podium. It looks good, if I do say so myself.

I set Dewdrop down on the first seat of the front row and take my spot.

Kayla stands in the open doorway, her face soft with shock as she whispers, “It’s just like when I was little.”

Music begins to play over the speakers hidden in the corners of the room in a swell of strings that Victoria called the “Wedding March.”

My witch walks toward me, each step slow and careful. The dress moves and sways, the poofed-out skirt like a giant bell swinging around her legs, which act as the clapper.

It doesn’t matter how ridiculous the dress is.

It doesn’t matter that the flowers aren’t real.

It doesn’t even matter—much—that this ceremony is fake.

Kayla’s the most beautiful woman in all the realms, and she’s walking toward me.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kayla

I try to take a deep breath, but get only a tiny sip of air as the Girdle of Doom rearranges my internal organs to give me a waist that fits into the Diabolical Dress. Victoria decided to live out all her Disney-princess dreams in one fell swoop with this get-up. The skirt’s big enough to need its own zip code, and the giant balloon sleeves could carry me into the sky if you filled them with helium.

But today’s not all bad. Shadow and Victoria have turned the living room into a wedding chapel once again, decorated with draped swaths of white organza and multiple arrangements of white silk flowers. I feel like I’ve been hit by a Remembrance Spell, sending me straight back to happy memories of childhood summers spent with my grandparents, the two people I loved most in the world.

That’s what Victoria misses, too, though I don’t think she realizes it. The house thinks it’s the weddings that madeeverything special, but it’s the people, the feeling of welcome and love and home they always created. I want that again, too.

Shadow stands at the end of the aisle, looking flipping amazing in a tux, because of course he does. His easy grin as he watches me makes my traitorous heart give a happy skip. None of this is real, I remind it. This is a game to him. My heart—as stubborn as the rest of me—ignores me and continues to race.

Dewdrop sits on one of the chairs, blue eyes bright with awe. When he catches me looking, his wings spread, and he does a little hop of joy. “Hello! Look at me! I’m your audience.”

“You’re the perfect audience.”