Love Bites (Crescent City Werewolves: The Short Stories)

A Chain of Pearls (Part 1 of 3)

"It's a shame about your eyes, girl. They're such an ugly color, with no sparkle at all. Be sure to look down during the ceremony. We don't want him realizing any of your limits until that ring is around your finger."

Lili nodded, knowing better than to speak, yet even that slight movement drew hisses of displeasure from the three figures fitting her into yards of silk and lace.

Aunt Minerva, sharp and thin like a fireplace poker, stood behind her to lace up the bodice with tight, precise jerks. Aunt Hester crawled on the floor, arranging the embroidered train. Her face, already wrinkled as an apple doll's, puckered further in concentration while she checked for missing pearls.

Only Lili's mother showed a glimmer of satisfaction, carefully adjusting the necklace around Lili's throat. It was an early wedding present from her husband-to-be, tight as a collar and heavy as iron from the strands of diamonds set in white gold. Lili hated how it squeezed against her skin with each breath.

"Stop shivering," said her mother. "We've done it. You're minutes away from the altar. Minutes away from a husband with a bloodline older than the city and a fortune larger than any king's. The amount of thanks you should be giving me, girl... And here you are, acting as if you're facing the gallows instead."

"I'm sorry," whispered Lili, hardly moving her lips.

"Imogen is right." Aunt Hester's voice drifted up from the floor. "You're being very inconsiderate. Because of this, your poor mother and aunties will never need to worry about living in discomfort. I know you're very young, my dear, but we aren't, and you should be overjoyed over giving us the chance to spend our twilight years in such ease."

"Perhaps she'd rather see us wither away in some hovel," said Aunt Minerva, taking the veil from its stand and carrying it over with the same exquisite care used for holy relics. "Perhaps she hates us for trying to give her a good life, a better one than what we had in our youth."

"Is that it?" said her mother, hands steady against Lili's neck. "Did you want us encouraging you to marry for love? To look aside while you made the same terrible decision that ruined our family for generations? What a selfish, wicked way to think."

"No." The word burst out of Lili, thin and strained from her bone corset limiting each breath to a shallow gasp. "It's not that at all. I'm just frightened."

"Frightened? Over what?"

She couldn't say. She didn't know. Marriage had structured her future since she'd been a chubby-cheeked tot clinging to her doll, but not in the way of other girls. Not with daydreams of vows in a gilded cathedral or a towering cake tasting of champagne. Not with the greed of gaining power, wealth, and status with one slip of a ring upon her finger. Not even with a secret longing for meeting a man whose love would be so sweet and fierce that their very hearts would beat together.

No, for her, a wedding was a contract—heavy as coin, stiff as sealing wax. Unbreakable. The name of her husband-to-be inspired the same hollow sense of duty she felt toward her family, and perhaps that was what terrified her so. She had always expected this, but now the moment was nearly here. Her life was about to be placed in the hands of a stranger, and she didn't know how much he would change it.

Realizing she had never answered, she weakly said, "I don't know what he'll expect of me. What if I disappoint him?"

All three stared at her, disbelief filling their faces. Aunt Minerva finally said, "It doesn't matter. A husband can't be rid of his wife."

"Enough of this nonsense," added her mother, briskly taking the veil from her sister and settling it onto Lili's head.

Lili knew better than to argue as they coaxed the tulle into perfect folds around her face, but couldn't help asking, "Will... Will you visit very often?"