Page 39 of Wedding the Werepanther

Right then and there, I decide to stop thinking of today as something I don’t want to do and instead look at is as a tribute to my amazing grandparents… and to the life I’m creating here in Ferndale Falls. It was a mistake to not invite the Witch Bitches to this—they should be here, laughing over the ridiculous wedding dress and cheering me on. I’ll invite them to the next ones.

Feeling like something’s finally going right, I smile at Shadow and take a step forward.

Which is when everything starts to go horribly, not-good, all-the-bad wrong.

I don’t know who originally wore the Diabolical Dress, but she must have been one of those women willing to bleed for fashion. The protective layer between the crinoline and my legs stops at my knees instead of my ankles. I’m sure soft crinoline exists somewhere in the world, but it sure as hell didn’t find its way into this dress. The Fabric of Destruction threatens to shred my skin the second I move and entwines my calves with every step.

Like now.

My leg tangles, making my foot come down at an angle. That would be fine in my usual sneakers, but the tiny stiletto point of the Heel from Hell slips. I teeter, letting out a horrible squawkthat already has me cringing in mortification, knowing I’ll replay it over and over for the rest of my life, like a game scene stuck in a loop.

My bouquet goes flying. I take a couple of quick baby hops, trying to get my feet back under me. It works for a split second. Then I try to bend my torso to regain my balance, and the Girdle of Doom lances into my side, squashing my last flipping hope of recovering any teeny tiny sliver of dignity.

Forget the Datepocalypse. I’m in my Weddingpocalypse era now.

The floor rushes toward me. I have one last moment to wonder if the balloon sleeves will function as airbags, and—

There’s a blur of movement I can’t process, like when a game overloads a computer’s processor and the screen glitches. I land on a hard surface with an oof of expelled air right as the familiar strains of the “Wedding March” disappear.

“Are you all right?” Shadow rumbles from underneath me. Because that’s what this firm, warm surface is: his stomach.

“What?” I lift my head, seeing only him and gray mist. “How?”

“I dove to catch you and pulled us onto the shadow roads to have a softer landing.”

“Huh.” I landed diagonally across him so his head is near my hip and mine rests on his lower abs, kinda close to an impressive bulge.

Oh, god! I press a palm to the ground to try to push up to sitting, and it’s a little spongy, not like something meant to be soft, more like it’s not fully there. The Girdle of Doom stops me from making it upright, and I flop back onto his stomach. Wait. Hisstomach? I turn away from the distracting bulge to meet his eyes, eyebrow lifted. “You dove and landed on your back?”

“Iama cat.” He grins. “I twisted in midair.”

Damn, that’s impressive.

“Besides, it’s a lot more fun to catch you chest to chest, my wife.” The low purr of his voice washes over me as his eyes noticeably track how close my mouth is to his dick.

“We should get back,” I blurt. “Make Victoria happy before she disconnects the electricity or something.”

“Agreed.” Then he lifts an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are you going to get up?”

I give an experimental shimmy, trying to see if the Girdle of Doom will let me lift, but it’s a no-go. “Umm.” I bite my lip, cheeks burning with heat. I’m clearly under a Mortification Curse, doomed to eternal flustered embarrassment. “I can’t.”

“Allow me.” He smirks, and then his hands are on me, lifting me up as if I weighnothing. It’s damned intoxicating, is what it is.

Shadow keeps hold of me even once we’re both on our feet, when his eyes drop to my cleavage. I have to give the Diabolical Dress one thing: it makes my boobs look flipping amazing.

It’s my turn to say, “Well?”

“Right.” He takes a quick step sideways, pulling us into the living room directly in front of the podium.

“Kayla! You’re okay!” Dewdrop gives a delighted chirrup and waves my bouquet. “Look what I rescued!”

I give him a big smile of thanks. “Hold on to it for me, sweetie.”

The echoing sounds of banging doors fade, and the flickering lights brighten to regular intensity.