Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Some days demand bows and ribbons. Others demand blood and sacrifice. Occasionally, they are the same day.
Asea of terrifying tiny boxes had invaded my home. I fiddled with the sage-green ribbon and cursed as the bow slipped again. Hudson chuckled while he perfected his in one smooth movement.
“I thought you’d be good at this,” Dayna said with a frown.
“Why, because I’m a girl?”
“No, because you’re a doctor. Didn’t you learn how to stitch?”
“Can I stab them with sharp pointy things? If so, this activity just got a lot more interesting.”
“Wasn’t Cora’s best skill as a doctor,” Sebastian muttered.
“What was?” Hudson asked.
“Boners.”
“What?”
I shot him a glare. “He means orthopedics. I was always good with breakages. At one point, I toyed with specializing in it.”
“What stopped you?” Dave asked.
I raised a brow. “Supply and demand. The type of patients I deal with don’t really come with complex breaks.”
Maggie gasped. I glanced around, looking for danger.
Instead, I found a bunch of nosy spirits and enslaved supernaturals who, instead of figuring out how to avoid the end of the world, were packing miniature sized.
.. I picked up a vial and shook it. The red liquid inside flared with a faint light. “What is this?”
Rebecca grinned. “A new synthetic blood made of ethically sourced ingredients created to satisfy, not intensify. A practical favor for monsters who might have a mid-vow craving.” She swirled one around in front of her face. “It smells like mint, and it looks pretty.”
“The pretty was all me,” Dayna added with a smile.
Dave curled his lip. “Synthetic? Like fake?”
“That’s right,” Rebecca answered as she tied her bow the first time. Show off.
Dave sniffed a gauze-wrapped stick. “And this?”
“Ultra-high protein jerky,” Maggie said.
“Did you make it?” Dave asked, his face going blank. Oh, boy. Maggie was given strict instructions to leave all culinary creations to Liz.
“Don’t be silly. I don’t have enough time to make jerky.”
Dave’s shoulders relaxed.
“Does it do anything like the blood?” Hudson asked, examining one of the pieces.
“Synthetic,” Rebecca reminded him. “And yes. I was promised it too has calming qualities.”
“By whom?” I wondered.
“Rockhard.”
If one half of the famous potion-making duo said it was calming, then you could bet on it being calming.
“And the little stones are for the elementals.” Maggie pointed at the pile of white pebbles. “For balance.”
“Does it not concern everyone that we’re going to magically induce our wedding guests into a drugged state?” I asked. “Or is it just me?”
“Shifters and elementals don’t normally mate. It’s an unknown,” Dave said. “And unknowns are dangerous.”
“It’s actually pretty good,” Hudson declared.
My gaze shot to him. “You ate one of the favors?”
“It’s important to sample the goods since they’re a reflection of our mating.”
Ugh, I really hoped not. But it did beg a question. “What about the humans?”
Everyone froze. “What?” Maggie muttered as she stared at the table of supernaturally oriented goodies. Also, how many people were coming? I hoped there were an abundance of spare favors, because damn, this was a lot.
“The humans. What do they get?” I reiterated.
The chaos central stared at the table and gave a collective blink.
“How many humans will be coming?” Sebastian asked with a shrug. “Just give them the stones.”
“Spoken like a true imbecile who doesn’t understand the danger possessing such a blessed artefact could have,” Dayna huffed.
“What are they going to do? Skim them over the river?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Those would make terrible skimming stones,” Rebecca said.
“Back to the human problem,” I said. “How many are coming?”
Dayna frowned and turned to look at Rebecca. “One, maybe two?”
I sighed. That was good. It gave me an indication of the scale of this thing. Clearly, the favor thing was an overbuying problem.
“Closer to two,” Rebecca said.
“How can it be closer to two? Please don’t dissect humans on my wedding day.”
“That was macabre, even for you,” Dayna grumbled.
“You are the one talking about parts of people.”
“Oh, she thinks one or two,” Rebecca said.
“Clueless,” Sebastian muttered. “Utterly clueless.”
If I strangled them all, there wouldn’t need to be a wedding. Problem solved. I took a sip of my tea before my idle and useless hands got creative.
“Explain before she murders someone,” Hudson advised.
“We mean one to two hundred,” Rebecca explained, twisting another ribbon with a flick of her wrist.
I choked. Hudson patted my back with a chuckle. We weren’t fucking royalty. I didn’t even know that many people. I coughed into my hand, wheezed, and then straightened my spine. “Why?”
“It’s a bad time to be a good person,” Dayna explained. “People need something to look forward to.”
“Then they should adopt a freaking puppy, not hijack a wedding.”
“It would only be hijacking if they weren’t invited. Don’t be so dramatic.”
I lurched to my feet and fought to drag in a breath. What if I just kidnapped Hudson, eloped, and came back tomorrow with rings and vows already done?
Dayna pointed at me. “Don’t even think about it. If you elope, I will double the size of the reception to compensate.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“No, that’s a fact. The factions need this harmony, Cora. While you weren’t pushed together for political reasons, it doesn’t negate that your mating has political ramifications. So stop being a baby and go fetch me something humans would want for a favor.”
“Sugared nuts,” Sebastian said.
“It’s not a shopping list for your next conquest,” I snapped.
Sebastian’s lips twitched.
Hudson stood and placed a hand on my back, pushing me away from the dining table and my impending panic attack. “We’ll figure something out,” he shouted over his shoulder as he grabbed his car keys and encased his hand around mine. He didn’t let go until he’d bundled me into the passenger side.
“How many?” I whispered as he drove us toward the town.
He didn’t bother to act clueless. Good, because my patience was waning. “Invites? I believe about a thousand. Confirmations to date? Six hundred.”
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. It was my own fault. I’d made it clear I just wanted to diva my way to this wedding. No decisions, no stress, just turn up on the day and look pretty.
“Breathe, Cora. The impending apocalypse is causing less of a reaction than our wedding, which is concerning.”
I didn’t even know where to start with that factual observation. “I want to be your wife, I just—”
“Don’t want the big song and dance,” he finished. “I know, I know.” He tangled his fingers with mine and kissed the back of my hand. “It will be over soon. The factions will unite for a brief moment to understand that love pulls us together more than your grandmother can tear us apart.”
“You want me to see our wedding as part of our battle plan?”
“If it helps to reframe it that way, then yes.”
It did help. I turned to study his profile while he concentrated on the road. He filled the car with his presence and energy, but I no longer found it suffocating. It was, I realized, home. He was my home.
“You have long eyelashes,” I grumbled.
His lips twitched as he pulled into the convenience store parking lot. “Jealous?”
“Absolutely.”
He put the car in park, unclipped both seatbelts, and grabbed my hips, pulling me over to straddle his lap.
“It’s the middle of the day,” I said, glancing around.
There was no one watching us. Yet. While I could tell everyone to mind their own business on my property, the middle of town was a different matter.
“I’m not doing anything but reminding my mate about the real purpose of the wedding,” he said, punctuating it with a kiss under my chin.
“Which is?”
“To start the rest of our lives together.”
“You always know what to say.”
“There was a time not too long ago that I fucked up every other sentence when it came to you.”
“And look how that worked out.”
He snorted and cupped my cheeks. “I know you don’t want the big wedding or the fuss. But remember, you are never alone. We are in this together. If it helps, I made them book the latest ceremony time possible.”
I frowned. “Why would that help? So I have all day to twist myself up in knots?”
“No, so you have the least amount of time spent in the public eye before it’s socially acceptable for me to whisk my new bride off to be ravished.”
Oh, that made sense.
Hudson leaned in, his mouth brushing mine. Awareness swept up my spine, and I pulled away to glance out the window. Pressure squeezed my skull. Hudson cursed and shook his head. “What is that?”
The car shuddered, and the glass creaked. I threw the door open and leaped from his lap. He didn’t ask questions but dove out after me seconds before the sides of the car dented as if an invisible boulder was crushing it.
The windows spider-webbed with cracks, and the wards connecting me to my home screamed in my head.
They were under attack. No, wait. I spun in a circle.
They weren’t the house wards; they were my personal ones.
The ones all elementals learned to build from childhood to protect them from pushy mind readers.
But this wasn’t a push or a request—it was a declaration, and the kiss of inky power was both strange and familiar.
“She’s here,” I ground out between clenched teeth as I clutched his arm.
Hudson spun, already shifting his stance, power rolling off him in a lethal wave while he scanned the parking lot. He didn’t need clarification. There was only one “she” who would cause this visceral reaction.