Page 57 of Wedding the Werepanther

“You watched?” I groan as I remember the sounds I made when Shadow twisted his fingers inside me in that magical way. I’ve never made that sound before. I throw up my hands. “How could you?”

“Of course I watched. I can’tnotwatch. I’m the house.”

I knew on some level she sees everything inside the house, but it’s not the same asknowing-knowing it. “Oh, my god. I’m never going to have sex again. Or it’ll all be in sleazy hotel rooms, rented by the hour.” Only Ferndale Falls doesn’t have a hotel any longer, sleazy or otherwise, so basically, I’m screwed. Ornotscrewed, as it were.

The photos swirl across the wall, several slipping out of the way so that others can gather in several rings around the parchment.“Do you see these couples?”

“Yeah. Your point?”

“They all consummated in one of my bedrooms. It’s completely normal. I’m not human. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

“Okay, that makes it better.” I hold up my hand with my thumb and index finger only an inch apart. “But only a little bit. You might see everything that happens inside the house, but you gotta promise not to pay attention when I’m getting busy.”

“I’ll agree to that,”she writes.“If you’ll do it already! I was patient. Iwaited. But you didn’t consummate last night either!”

She’s right. Shadow pressed a sweet kiss to my mouth and told me goodnight, only smirking a little when I kissed back. He hadn’t pushed for more, which only made me want him more. Clever cat.

It also makes it feel as if all of this might still be a game to him, which brings all my worries roaring back to life.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Look, I have to meet my friends so we can get everything together for this weekend’s wedding.”

The front door clicks open, and I hurry through it before she can change her mind.

Dewdrop swoops down from where he likes to perch high on one of Victoria’s fanciful spires. “Kayla!”

“Want to go into town with me? The pixies will be there.”

“Yes!” He makes an excited loop around my head.

Five minutes later, my old Beetle chugs into downtown Ferndale Falls, Dewdrop asking a million questions, saucer-sized eyes trying to take in everything.

As soon as we enter Slice of Life, the pixies squeal his name and surround us in a tiny tornado of glowing blue.

“Hello!” the dragonet chirrups, standing on his hind legs to set his front paws on top of my head. “Hello, my new friends!”

“Go on.” I pat his tail. “You can play for a bit if you want.”

He rubs his cheek across the top of my head, then launches from my shoulder to fly around the room, the pixies surrounding him in a little cloud of stars.

My friends wave from across the room, and I hurry over to their table. All of my Witch Bitch friends are going to help on the day of the wedding, and Violeta and Jasmine volunteered to make decorations with me. It seemed the least I could do to buy them breakfast first.

“I don’t get greeted like that.” Jasmine grins, the brilliant turquoise of her shirt and hair wrap making her brown skin glow.

“Me either,” Violeta says.

“Yeah, that’s all Dewdrop.” I hook a thumb toward my familiar, then pour a cup of coffee from the waiting carafe. “Thanks for doing this.”

“It’s what friends do.” Violeta gives a casual shrug that makes her wide-necked tee slide further off one tanned shoulder.

A pixie breaks away from the flock to take our orders for “sweet pizza.” Pixies, it turns out, are flipping obsessed. So much so that they rename all flat, round foods as different pizzas. I made the mistake once of trying to order a waffle and got a ten-minute lecture on why pizza is the only worthwhile food from a highly indignant pixie, complete with lots of tiny finger wagging. It’s no skin off my nose. Shakespeare had it wrong: a delicious waffle is still delicious even if called by another name.

I order a chocolate-chip “sweet pizza” covered in banana slices and chocolate sauce and get a bunch of bananas for Dewdrop. When the food arrives, he eats happily, his little hands agile as he peels the yellow fruit.

My breakfast tastes as delicious as ever, but after a few bites, I find myself poking at it.

“Out with it,” Jasmine says.

“Out with what?”