THE whole morning, the mansion was busy. Downstairs, the entire house had been transformed. Witches had woven white blooms and silver ribbons into the banisters. Wolves had carved wooden arches and laid a path of petals leading to the clearing where the ceremony would be held.
Isla and the witches who had taken refuge with them were already waiting in the room, laying out her wedding dress — a flowing gown of white silk with silver threads that caught the light like the moonbeams.
It was already afternoon, and it was time to prepare for the wedding tonight.
“You’re already glowing, Luna,” one of them teased as they braided her hair.
“It’s not the dress,” another witch said knowingly, winking. “It’s the Alpha waiting downstairs.”
Seris blushed, but she couldn’t deny it. She smiled a
