And at my waist, impossible to hide, my bump.
I was showing now. Really showing. Four months along, and there was no pretending otherwise. The seamstress had accommodated it beautifully, designing the dress to flow around my growing belly rather than conceal it. Pregnant bride realness. Very on-trend for werewolf royalty, apparently.
“Stop fidgeting,” Sloane commanded, adjusting a strand of hair. “You look incredible.”
“I look like I’m about to pass out.”
“Same thing.”
The room was chaos. My bridesmaids, Sloane, Jade, Thessa, and Margo, were in various states of readiness, their matching silver gowns catching the light. Someone was crying already. Someone else was laughing. There was champagne, even though I couldn’t have any, which felt cosmically unfair.
“I still can’t believe you’re marrying a werewolf prince,” Margo said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “I knew your books were good, but I didn’t think you were manifesting your own love life.”
“I wasn’t manifesting anything!”
“Sure, Jan.” Margo grinned through her tears. “Next you’ll tell me you didn’t write a hero with golden eyes on purpose.”
I had absolutely written a hero with golden eyes on purpose. Multiple times. But that was beside the point.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I said, ignoring that entirely too accurate observation.
“Believe it, bitch.” Sloane appeared beside me, resplendent in her maid-of-honor dress. “You’re marrying a werewolf prince and becoming a queen. This is literally the plot of one of your books.”
“My books usually have more angst.”
“You’ve had plenty of angst. Now you get the happily ever after.”
“What if I trip walking down the aisle?”
“Then you’ll go viral on werewolf TikTok. If they have one. Win-win.”
Thessa appeared on my other side, rolling her eyes at our banter but smiling despite herself. She looked beautiful in silver, softer than usual, her edges smoothed by happiness. Things with Jade were going well. Really well. They’d been splitting time between realms, figuring out how to make it work, and from the looks they kept sneaking at each other across the room, they were figuring it out spectacularly.
“Are you ready?” Thessa asked.
I took a breath.
Was I ready?
Ready to marry Caelan. Ready to become queen of an entire werewolf realm. Ready to raise a child in a world I barely understood, surrounded by magic and politics and dangers I was only beginning to comprehend.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go get you married.”
And so they did.
***
The ceremony was everything I’d ever dreamed of. Well, everything I’d dreamed of, plus werewolves, plus royalty, plus an entire realm watching me marry their future king. So maybe more than I’d ever dreamed of. My imagination apparently needed to aim higher.
The great hall had been transformed. Flowers everywhere, from the greenhouse, I suspected, Elspeth’s touch evident in every arrangement. Candles floated in the air, suspended by magic I didn’t understand but had learned to accept. Ribbons of silver and gold draped from the ceiling, catching the light.
And at the end of the aisle, waiting for me, was Caelan.
He was in formal attire: a dark coat with gold embroidery, fitted trousers, a ceremonial sword at his hip. He looked every inch the prince he was. But when his gaze found mine, all that regal composure shattered. His expression broke into pure, unguarded joy, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Well. That was doing things to my heart.
