Page 68 of Wedding the Werepanther

When I step outside, I realize the house means the gaming decorations, because the toadstool mushrooms still cover the yard, and the yellow stars float overhead.

The sun went down about an hour ago, setting late this far north on the globe, and the pleasantly cool air carries the scents of pine, fern, and chipmunk.

And my wife, who smells a little sad.

Kayla sits on the back steps, and I sink down beside her. “Did you have a good witchy meeting?”

“Yeah.” Her lips curl in a small smile. “We mostly talked about the wedding.”

“It was a fantastic party. You should be proud.”

“I am. It’s just…” She shakes her head. “I still can’t get used to it.”

“To what?”

“I kinda expected everyone to just humor me, you know?” Old hurt laces her words, and she gives a shrug that’s too jerky to be casual. “But they actually had fun. It was all anyone could talk about at the Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club meeting.” She bumps me with her elbow. “Well, that and the translation crystal you got Dewdrop. That caused quite a stir.”

I cup her chin and turn her to face me, unwilling to be distracted from her earlier point. The star floating over us bathes her in a golden glow that might as well be full sunlight to my keen night sight. “Why would you doubt your wedding idea would be fun for others?”

“It’s nothing.” Pain flickers through her eyes. She tries to turn away, but I don’t let her.

“Tell me.”

“I… I didn’t have a great childhood. I was never able to be the daughter my parents wanted. I wasn’t pretty and dainty and well-mannered enough for my mother. And I sure as hell wasn’t the right kind of tomboy for my father, who would have settledfor someone sporty he could take to baseball or football games.” Her hands twist together, her muscles tight with tension. “Instead, I was just me, Kayla, the weird girl who liked video games.”

I want to soothe her sadness away but also don’t want her to stop.

“It got worse as I got older instead of better. I started reading even more fantasy. I’d escape into these other worlds with magic and fantastical creatures. I could picture myself as someone special, a mage with magic or a warrior fighting the good fight.” A haunted look flickers in her eyes, one I hate. “When I joined the gaming club in high school, my father told me to stop wasting time on something so frivolous.

“So when I told my parents I wanted to major in game design at college, they said I had to major in something ‘appropriate,’ or they wouldn’t help me, even though they’d set aside a college fund.”

“Oh, Kayla.” I can’t imagine what that’s like. Even though I chafed at the constraints of living in Alarria, I always had the love and support of friends and family. It explains her prickly exterior, her sarcastic shirts, her purple hair. Instead of crumpling in the face of other people’s opinions, she’s defiant, a fighter. “But you did game design, anyway.” My strong and determined Kayla, there could be no doubt.

“Yeah, I knew I couldn’t do anything else and be happy. It took three part-time jobs and student loans and eating a helluva lot of ramen, but I did it.”

“And look at you now, a successful game designer.” I lean over to press my shoulder to hers. “I’m very proud of you.”

She startles a little, looking at me with wide eyes, and I both love and hate that look. Love that I can tell her she’s worthy. Hate that no one else has done so.

“I’m sorry your family is so unsupportive.” I still can’t imagine it. For my people, pack is all. You never turn on one of your own.

“It wasn’t all bad. My grandparents were great and insisted I spend every summer here with them. It’s why I moved here once my grandmother passed.” Her hands untangle, and she pats the banister. “It was financially pretty much the worst flipping idea I’ve ever had. I was still making a name for myself at Morlano Games. I should have worked there at least another five years before trying to go freelance. My parents insisted I sell Victoria, but I couldn’t.” She huffs. “It got to the point that my father said that if I did this, I’d be on my own. No crawling back to them for help when I got in over my head.”

Anger washes through me. How could family turn on one of their own like this?

She sighs, the sound so sad I reach for her hand.

“But I couldn’t let Victoria go. Summers here with my grandparents were the only good parts of my childhood. If I sold this house, I wouldn’t have anything to remind me that anyone ever loved me.” Her voice breaks on the final word.

“Oh, my witchy beauty.” I wrap my arms around her and gather her to me, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Of course you’re loved.”

She shudders, her whole body shaking as she lets out the quietest of sobs.

The sound reaches into my chest and grips my heart. My lips pull back from my fangs. Right then and there, I vow that if I ever encounter her parents, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.

“So if you ever wondered why I don’t speak to my parents, that’s why. I cut off contact when I moved here.”

“I approve.”