Chapter 38 Lina
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Lina
Wedding planning became an adventure in cultural fusion that made me question my sanity daily. Turns out werewolves and humans had very different ideas about what constituted a proper ceremony.
“Why can’t we just bite each other under the full moon and call it done?” Knox asked for the tenth time, sprawled across our bed while I reviewed flower arrangements.
“Because my human friends would find that disturbing,” I explained patiently. “Also, I want cake.”
“We could have cake after the biting ceremony.”
“No.”
“But-”
“No, Knox. We’re having a real wedding. With flowers and music and clothes that stay on for the entire ceremony.”
He grumbled but pulled me against him, nuzzling into my neck where his mark still tingled sometimes. “Fine. But I’m not wearing a tie.”
“You’re wearing a tie.”
“Luna-”
“Tie.”
The pack wasn’t much better. Hunt cornered me in the coffee shop where I was trying to work out seating arrangements with Mika and Vivi.
“No, we cannot have a pack run as entertainment,” I told him.
“But it’s tradition!” He looked genuinely wounded. “The pack runs together to celebrate the Alpha’s mating. We’d shift back before the humans noticed.”
“Hunt, my seventy-year-old neighbor from Pine Valley is not going to appreciate a hundred wolves running past while she’s trying to eat wedding cake.”
“We could run quietly?”
“Tell you what,” I compromised, seeing his genuine disappointment. “Once the party’s really going and everyone’s had several drinks, you can organize a run. The humans will either think they’re hallucinating or be too drunk to care.”
His face lit up. “Really?”
“Really. But not during dinner.”
He practically bounced off, already planning routes that would minimize human heart attacks.
“Your pack is insane,” Mika said, not for the first time. “That one guy, Cole? He asked if I needed him to hunt my meal for the reception. Hunt! Like, with his bare hands!”
“He’s going through a rough time,” I defended weakly. Cole had been walking around like a kicked puppy since the trial, trying to make amends through increasingly weird gestures.
“He offered to build me a den,” Vivi added. “I don’t even know what that means, but it sounded very earnest.”
Sarah arrived a week before the wedding, taking one look at the organized chaos and immediately taking charge. My adoptive mother had raised me after my parents died, and she still had the ability to make me feel fifteen again with one raised eyebrow.
“Large dogs everywhere,” she muttered loudly as Noah walked past, making him trip over his own feet. “Very large. Well-behaved dogs.”
She looked directly at him and winked. Noah fled.
“Sarah,” I hissed. “You can’t-”
“Can’t what, dear? Notice that your fiancé’s family all have very similar features? Those seductive eyes must run in the family.” She patted my hand innocently. “Now, let’s discuss centerpieces.”
Sarah knew. Had probably always known. The woman had raised me, watched me lie about where bruises came from when the twins partially shifted during tantrums. She’d never said anything, just accepted it all with the same calm that got us through my parents’ death.
“You were always meant for something special,” she said quietly while we folded programs. “Even if I didn’t expect... this.” She gestured vaguely at Hunt, who was practicing flower arrangements with deadly seriousness.
“Does it bother you?” I asked, genuinely worried about her answer.
“That you’re marrying into a family of large, strange dogs?” She smiled. “Sweetheart, you’ve been half-feral yourself since you were fifteen. At least now I understand why.”
Mika and Vivi threw themselves into bridesmaid duties with enthusiasm that bordered on terrifying. They coordinated with the pack women, bridging the gap between human and wolf traditions through sheer determination and lots of wine.
“Girl, your bite mark is so sexy,” Mika said during dress fittings, helping me adjust the neckline to show it off properly. “Very territorial. I approve.”
“Is it weird that I find it hot?” Vivi asked, tilting her head to study the mark. “Like, that’s basically a permanent hickey that says ‘Property of Knox Raven’ and somehow that’s working for me.”
“Everything works for you,” I reminded her. “You tried to flirt with three different wolves yesterday.”
“They all smell so good!” she defended. “And the way they growl when they’re interested? Chef’s kiss.”
The pack embraced human traditions with competitive fervor once they understood we were really doing this.
Cole threw himself into constructing a massive dance floor in the town square, working until his hands bled to make up for his betrayal.
Hunt mastered flower arranging with disturbing intensity.
Even Marcus and Serena got involved, though their version of helping was terrifying vendors into giving us discounts.
“Your mother-in-law just made the cake decorator cry,” Vivi reported one afternoon.
“What did she do?”
“Existed, mostly. But we’re getting a forty percent discount, so...”
The twins practiced their ring bearer and flower girl duties with dedication. Rowan carried a pillow around the house for days, refusing to put it down even during meals. Thea practiced tossing petals with mathematical precision, determining the optimal throwing angle for maximum coverage.
“Mama, what if I run out of flowers?” she asked seriously the night before the wedding.
“Then you just walk normally,” I assured her.
“But what if people are sad without flowers?”
“No one will be sad, baby.”
She looked skeptical but agreed to have backup petals in her basket, just in case of flower emergencies.
The morning of the wedding arrived with typical Pine Valley drama. It was raining, because of course it was. Sarah bustled around my room at Noah’s house, managing my breakdown with efficiency.
“The flowers are wilting,” I said, staring at the drooping bouquet.
“They’re rustic,” she corrected.
“My hair won’t cooperate.”
“It’s romantically tousled.”
“What if he changes his mind?”
Sarah paused in her bustling to give me a look that could have stripped paint. “That boy has been vibrating with excitement for three weeks. Yesterday I caught him practicing his vows on a coffee cup. He’s not changing his mind.”
Mika and Vivi arrived in a whirlwind of purple fabric and excited chatter. They’d chosen deep purple bridesmaids dresses that complemented my mother’s wedding dress, which had been altered to perfectly frame Knox’s mark on my neck.
“Boss, you look incredible,” Vivi breathed, tears already threatening her mascara.
“Don’t you dare cry yet,” Mika ordered, wielding setting spray like a weapon. “We have photos first.”
“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” Vivi continued, ignoring the threat. “In your coffee shop. To a werewolf. This is like a paranormal romance novel but better because I get to be in it.”
“Please don’t put this in a novel,” I begged.
“Too late, already taking notes,” Mika said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, she’ll change the names.”
Knox had been banished to the pack house to get ready with his groomsmen. The separation was killing us both - I could feel his agitation through our bond, matching my own. Five years of waiting, and these last few hours felt eternal.
“Ready?” Sarah asked as we prepared to leave for the shop.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My mother’s dress fit perfectly, the alterations making it uniquely mine. The bite mark on my neck was visible and proud. My ring caught the light, promising forever.
“I’ve been ready for five years.”
The ceremony venue took my breath away. My coffee shop had been transformed with fairy lights and moonflowers, the scent mixing with coffee and books to create something magical. Pack members in human form mixed with Pine Valley residents who were determinedly ignoring any oddities.
“If anyone asks,” I heard Mrs. Henderson whisper to her husband, “they’re from Alaska. That explains the... everything.”
The aisle had been created between the bookshelves, leading to where Knox waited by the coffee bar we’d converted to an altar.
Seeing him in his suit, tie and all, made my heart skip.
Cole stood as his best man, Hunt and Noah beside them, all looking devastatingly handsome and only slightly uncomfortable in formal wear.
“Breathe, boss,” Vivi whispered as we prepared for the processional. “You look incredible. He’s going to die when he sees you.”
The music started - a blend of traditional wedding march and pack harmonies that somehow worked.
First came the twins. Thea attacked flower petal distribution with enthusiasm that bordered on aggressive, practically pelting guests while Rowan carried the rings with the seriousness of someone diffusing a bomb.
Then it was my turn. Sarah took my arm, and I was grateful for her steady presence. My father couldn’t walk me down the aisle, but the woman who’d raised me was perfect.
The walk felt both eternal and instant. I was vaguely aware of guests standing, of cameras clicking, of pack members humming their approval. But all I could see was Knox.
His face when he saw me - pure awe mixed with possessive satisfaction and overwhelming love. His eyes tracked from my face to the visible mark on my neck, and I heard his quiet growl of approval even from the back of the shop.
Sarah delivered me to Knox with a whispered, “Take care of her, or I’ll neuter you myself.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Knox replied seriously, though his eyes never left mine.
The ceremony blended both worlds perfectly. We’d written vows that honored human tradition while acknowledging our mate bond. The officiant, a nervous human who’d been thoroughly briefed on not questioning anything unusual, guided us through the basics before we reached the personal vows.