Page 89 of Wedding the Werepanther

Disappointed head shakes fill the room, and I remember what it was like to hope I was a witch but to have no proof I had powers.

“So have you magically undressed Shadow again?” Jasmine asks, amusement glittering in her eyes as she takes a bite of cupcake.

“No, I’ve been sending magic into Victoria each day, trying to keep my ‘batteries’ from building up, so I don’t have another mishap.” I sip my drink. “The green shirt scuttles around the edges of the living room or wraps around the trunk of Dewdrop’s cat tree. I guess it’s happy or, at least, not unhappy. It’s kinda hard to tell. But I sure don’t want to animate something else by accident.”

“What about on purpose?” Hannah asks. “I think you should practice your magic.”

“You wouldn’t have to be so worried about it then,” Autumn adds.

Skye nods. “I know it was abigrelief for me to figure out how to control my book magic.”

“What would I practice on?” I give a quick spasm of a shrug. “Whatever it is, I feel responsible for it.” It’s even uncomfortable for me to animate bits of fruit for Dewdrop. I know he’s going to eat the fruit no matter what, but once I bring something to life, I kinda like for it to stay that way.

“I’ve got an idea.” Hannah pulls out her phone and sends a text, nodding when it chimes with an immediate response. “Okay, the hubs will be here in ten. Eat up, Bitches!”

While we finish our cupcakes, Skye asks if anyone’s started her latest book choice, a spicy fantasy adventure with a slow-burn romance between a human dragon rider and her dragon-shifter mount.

“I meant to start that one. It’s exactly my kind of book.” I take a bite of buttercream perfection. “But with all the weddings and the werekittens, I’ve been a little busy.” Not to mention all the sex. I usually read before bed, but not lately. The memory of riding Shadow’s face last night flashes through my mind.

I shove more cupcake into my mouth to cover up my blush, and not long after, time’s up.

Hannah shoos us out to the town green, where the familiars race over to us along with the tulips, pumpkins, and hearts. Soon we’re surrounded by an excited maelstrom of activity, as the familiars try out their new translation crystals.

“Tell themI’mthe leader,” Finn barks.

“Delusional canine, clearly it’s me.” Princess Buttercup sits and licks her paw regally, as if the discussion is beneath her.

“I don’t care about being the leader,” Babybelle bleats and gives three little hops right. “I want to play.”

Dewdrop lands on my shoulder. “I don’t want to be leader either. I just want friends.”

“There’s only one leader around here,” a deep voice says from overhead. Severin’s shadow wings cup the air, lowering him slowly to the ground, then disappear back into his tattoos. “I am king.”

He clearly expects his authority to squash all of their arguments.

He’s also very, very wrong.

“King of the shadow fae,” Finn yips. “Not king of the foxes!”

“I knowIdidn’t vote for him,” Princess Buttercup says. “But if he gives me chicken, I can be persuaded.”

“Do you vote for kings?” Babybelle asks.

Dewdrop flies down to join the others. “I think you’re supposed to be born one.”

As the familiars discuss monarchies and the inherited right to rule, the rest of us move several feet away. It’s a little unreal sometimes, how they tap into the knowledge and intelligence of the witch they’re bound to, knowing things no normal animal would know. It’s yet another example of how amazing magic is, and I love it!

“At least you brought them together.” Hannah gives her husband’s shoulder a consoling squeeze.

He scowls at the animals. “United in their inability to recognize my authority, you mean.”

“If it works. It’s not like they pay any attention to me as mayor either.” She shrugs. “Now, about what we talked about the other day…”

The two of them sit, and Hannah gestures for the rest of us to do so.

As soon as I’m settled on the grass, the pumpkins and hearts surround me, while the tulips are clearly torn between me and Severin. I scoot over until I’m by his side, and they join us, little flower heads bobbing as they stretch their long leaves toward first me, then him.

Severin scoops one of them up, cradling the mass of roots it uses as little feet. He points to the brown bulb at the base of the plant, which has a smaller white bulb growing from the side. “I noticed the other day that a few of the flowers have grown a daughter bulb. For normal tulips, you separate the bulbs, and the new flower will take a year or so to mature before blooming. But I can grow it immediately.”