Silence claimed the tent.

“Okay!” George said. “Now that Mom’s done being scary, here is your wine.”

“Red wine?” Fiona squinted at the glass. “Kate, if you spill the wine on yourself, they’ll bury you in this dress.”

“Maybe wine isn’t a good idea,” George said.

It was a great idea. I took the wine and drained the glass.

People giggled. Rowena slipped into the tent and smiled at me.

Julie dabbed my mouth with a napkin. “Now we have to re-lipstick.”

“Will all of you stop?” I growled.

“Shut up,” Andrea said. “We’re not done prettying you up.”

“I’m pretty enough as is.”

“Yes, yes, you are. You are the prettiest. Now hold still so I can fix your lipstick.”

“Try not to pass out,” Desandra said. “I almost passed out at my wedding. Of course, it was a really nasty wedding, but still.”

“What happens if he shows up?” Julie asked.

The tent went silent.

“He won’t,” I said. “But if he does, I’ll deal with it.”

“There.” Andrea stepped away. “Perfect.”

“Does she have all the things?” George asked. “Something old, something new . . .”

“The dress is new,” Fiona said.

“Something blue.” Sienna pointed to a single blue flower in my crown.

“Something old.” I touched the pendant around my neck. Martha smiled at me.

“Something borrowed?” Andrea looked around.

Rowena unclipped a small amber brooch from her dress and clipped it to me. “Here, you can borrow this.”

“Knock, knock,” Ascanio said outside the tent. “Is everybody clothed?”

“Yes,” Martina told him.

“That’s a shame.” He stuck his head in. “Oh, hi, Mom.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Everybody is ready. Also Curran says if you want to elope, there’s still time.”

“She doesn’t want to elope!” Fiona said. “She wants to showcase this dress.”

“Roman says for you to come out and take your seats.”

“Okay, okay, we’re coming.” Desandra got up. “Tell him to keep his black panties on.”

Ascanio squinted at me. “You are gorgeous, Alpha.”

“Go away,” Martina told him.

Everyone filed out of the tent one by one. Only the witches were left.

“The boy is right,” my aunt said next to me. “You make a passable bride. Miracle of miracles.”

“Thanks.”

The three witches stared at Erra by my side. I had taken her to them after the battle. We talked for a while. Plans were made. Curran wouldn’t like them, but sometimes the hardest choice was the right one.

“We’ve talked with our people,” Evdokia said.

“What you suggested is possible,” Sienna said.

“We’ll need a conduit,” Maria added.

“Then find one,” Erra said. “She is already doing enough.”

“It’s easier said than done,” Evdokia said. “That’s an awful lot of power to channel. A mere human won’t do.”

“Is that a yes or a no?” I asked.

“It’s a yes.” Evdokia looked like she was about to cry. “Unless we find another way.”

“There is no other way,” Erra said.

“We could ask the White Warlock,” Sienna said.

The two other women turned to her.

“You’ve lost your mind,” Evdokia said.

“Her? You want to ask that abomination?” Maria looked like she’d spit to the side, then thought better of it.

“She has enough power,” Sienna said.

“Come on.” Evdokia shepherded them out of the tent. “We’ll talk about it later.”

The tent was empty except for me and my aunt. I looked in the mirror. My hair fell loose. The dress clasped my shoulders with white embroidery that shimmered as if made of silver. The breathtakingly patterned gown curved over my breasts, dipping between them lower than I would’ve ever dared, and hugged my waist before sliding over my hips and butt. The shimmering white skirt was all diaphanous layers, so thin that they moved even now at the slightest draft. The dress should’ve been heavy because of the embroidery, but instead it felt and looked so light, as if made of clouds. I looked like a fairy-tale princess.

I turned and walked to the tent flap. Outside a bonfire roared. Between the tent and the flames, tables stood groaning with food and flowers. The rows of chairs were filled with people: the Pack, the Masters of the Dead, Luther and the ifrit hound, the Order, Teddy Jo, Beau and his deputies . . .

Everybody was here. My heart hammered.

At the fire, Roman stood in a black robe etched with silver. Next to him Curran waited. He wore a tuxedo. Jim stood on his right. On the other side, Dali waited. She was my maid of honor.

Curran bent forward and said something to Roman. Roman nodded.

I was getting married. Dear God.

“Is he worth it?” Erra asked.

“Always.”

Music started, sweet and haunting. It was my cue to go on.

The magic was so thick tonight. It was all around me. The flower vines draped on the trees glowed weakly with a magical golden light, mirroring the strings of feylanterns strung above the tables. The woods didn’t look real.