"Is there a way we could sneak out the back?" she whispered.
"Not unless you want Mac to track us down. Again." Sam nodded toward his friend, who stood at attention near the stage, his expression serious despite his neon hair.
On stage, the Mayor had moved from introduction to dramatic reenactment, using hand puppets he'd apparently commissioned for the occasion.
"And then, the brave wolf—" he waved a fuzzy puppet with pointy ears "—and the magical seer—" he raised his other hand wearing a puppet with yarn hair and a crystal ball "—confronted the evil witch and her shadow army!"
Councilor Greymane, seated with the other shifter council representatives, pinched the bridge of his nose.
"By the power vested in me by Municipal Code Section 12, Paragraph 7, 'Recognition of Heroic Acts That Prevent Apocalyptic Events Within Town Limits,'" Mayor Grimble continued, producing an oversized scroll from inside his hat, "I present you with these Keys to the City, which actually unlock the secret municipal cookie jar."
He held up golden keys that sparkled with minor enchantments.
"Is he serious about the cookie jar?" Delilah whispered.
"Deadly serious," Sam replied. "Mac says it's filled with cookies that never go stale. Magical preservation from the 1950s."
Councilor Greymane approached the microphone, gently nudging the Mayor aside.
"The Shifter Council also wishes to recognize these brave individuals," he announced, his dignified voice a stark contrast to the Mayor's enthusiasm. "Particularly Ms. Delilah Hart, who we formally acknowledge as an honorary pack ally, with all the protections and responsibilities such a position entails."
He placed a silver medallion around her neck, and Delilah felt a warm sensation spread through her body as the magic took hold.
"It will alert any shifter in the vicinity if you're in danger," Sam explained softly. "It's not given lightly."
Delilah touched the medallion, suddenly overwhelmed. She'd spent her life seeing everyone else's path, always on the outside looking in. Now, somehow, she belonged.
The medallion's weight felt both unfamiliar and right against Delilah's collarbone as she entered Bread of Heaven. Fabio had transformed his bakery into what could only be described as a shrine to their victory—if shrines typically featured shark-shaped pastries and edible shadow creatures that dissolved into chocolate when you bit into them.
"Darling!" Fabio swept toward her in a swirl of flour and designer cologne. "The woman of the hour! Well, one of them. I'm obviously the other."
He wore a custom apron emblazoned with "Aerial Pastry Commander" in rhinestones, his auburn hair styled into what appeared to be a tornado shape.
"I didn't realize you were part of the final battle," Delilah said, accepting a floating champagne flute that bubbled with color-changing liquid.
"Part of it?" Fabio clutched his chest dramatically. "I was the turning point! The pastry air force was the tactical masterstroke that won the day!"
Sam appeared at her elbow, already holding a plate stacked with treats. "The croissants were surprisingly effective against shadow creatures," he admitted. "Though I'm still finding sprinkles in places I'd rather not discuss."
The bakery buzzed with the entire town squeezed between display cases and tables. Mayor Grimble's hat now featured tiny replicas of them all, including a miniature Fabio conducting pastry warfare. Elder Thornberry materialized beside the punch bowl, ladling liquid into cups that somehow ended up in people's hands without him moving from his spot.
Zelda waved from across the room where she was deep in conversation with Ivy and Rafe. All three of them had their heads bent over one of Ivy's plants, which seemed to be pulsing with a soft light.
"You must try my victory eclairs!" Fabio steered them toward a display of pastries shaped like lightning bolts. "I infused them with the essence of triumph and just a hint of 'I told you so.'"
"I told you so?" Delilah raised an eyebrow.
Fabio's eyes widened with indignation. "The shark's left fin always pointed to danger! The tornado sound effects were Morse code! Was no one paying attention to my artistic brilliance?"
"Wait," Sam frowned. "Are you saying you planted clues in Sharknado 2: The Musical revival?"
"Of course!" Fabio flipped his hand dramatically. "Why else would I insist on that ridiculous shark mating dance? It wasn't just for theatrical integrity—though that was a consideration."
Delilah exchanged a bewildered look with Sam. "So when you made Sam do those absurd fin movements?—"
"I was teaching him the ancient shifter warning signals!" Fabio looked between them, exasperation growing. "Did you think I was just being difficult for the fun of it?"
Sam's expression suggested that was exactly what he'd thought.
