Page 15 of Clashing With The Grumpy Wolf

I offer my most professional smile despite my stomach already twisting in painful knots.

"Mrs. Draak, it's an honor to meet you." I extend my hand, then quickly withdraw it when she makes no move to reciprocate. "I was just catching up with the delivery company for the custom linen. I’m so sorry to make you wait, but I’m here now and hopefully, we canfinalize the seating chart. From what I understand, Seraphina has a good idea of what she wants."

Silverine's gaze flicks over me once, thoroughly and dismissively, before returning to Seraphina.

"As I was saying, darling, there is simply not enough space at the honor table. Percy and Elvira Ashbane are the only ones truly needed there, anyway. The Ashbanes will understand."

Her voice is honey-sweet, but her eyes remain sharp and cold. I immediately sense I've walked into the middle of a tense negotiation. Or more precisely, a power struggle between the current matriarch and the next.

Seraphina's tail twitches against the marble floor.

"This marriage is a union between Percy and me. The seating should reflect our partnership, not some imagined hierarchy. I can’t offend my new in-laws at my own wedding reception."

I watch Seraphina's scales ripple with emotion, their pearlescent surface catching the light differently as they subtly rise and fall. She's maintaining a controlled voice, but her body betrays her agitation.

“Seraphina!” Silverine objects, her features painted with shock that her granddaughter dared to stand up to her like that.

"I've already explained my plan," Seraphina continues. "Great-Aunt Cordelia and Great-Aunt Venetia, along with Uncle Thorne, will be at the table directly adjacent to the honor table. This allows room for Percy's immediate family at the head table in the same number as our family."

“Your great-aunts have held Council positions for decades.” Silverine scoffs audibly, her claws scraping lightly against the velvet armrest. “Relegating them to a secondary table is simply unacceptable.”

Seraphina's shoulders stiffen, and her tail curls tightly around one leg, dragon body language I've quickly learned indicates significant stress. Steadying myself, I get ready to jump into the literal line of dragon fire.

I step forward, my mind racing through potential compromises.

"If I may offer a suggestion?"

Both dragons turn to me, Seraphina with barely concealed relief, Silverine with the kind of cold gaze that causes freezer burns.

"Perhaps we could design special honorific place cards for the relatives at a special secondary table," I say, my voice steady despite the weight of their attention. "We could use platinum leaf instead of gold, with the ancient Draak sigil rather than the modern intertwined clan crests. This would signal to everyone that these placements are special marks of honor for the esteemed Draak clan members."

Silverine's eyes narrow to slits, her clawlike fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the table.

I press on. "If we make clear those tables are special, then this would free enough space for both the bride and groom's immediate family, while acknowledging the Draak's status."

The diplomatic solution hangs in the air between us. Seraphina's eyes dart between her grandmother and me.

Before Silverine can respond, the ballroom doors swing open, and Courtney bustles in carrying ribbon swatches and her laptop. Her ponytail bounces with each step, and her cheeks flush pink from exertion.

"Sorry I'm late!" she calls, then freezes momentarily when she notices Silverine. "Oh! Matriarch Draak, I didn't realize you were… Imean, it's an honor to meet you."

"Not at all, you’re perfectly on time," I call to her smoothly, saving Courtney from her stumbling apology. “Show us the wedding favors.”

Grateful, she nods and unlocks her laptop, pulling up images of the finalized orb design with platinum accents. "The glassblower sent these over for final approval."

I smile. The orbs are perfect, refined and stately. As Seraphina bends over to examine the final images, the tension lowers slightly when Silverine makes a small nodding gesture of approval.

“Approve those,” Seraphina says with a final tone. “And order a few extras just in case.”

At last, we have a reprieve. But it doesn’t last long.

"Speaking of approval, where is your intended this afternoon, Seraphina?" Silverine’s tone is softer, but as she cast a wide glance around, there’s ice underneath the surface. "One would expect a devoted husband-to-be to participate in these crucial decisions. Does he not value the Draak future matriarch’s time?"

I watch a flash of genuine emotion cross Seraphina's face, not anger but something closer to protectiveness. She straightens and faces her grandmother with a fierce expression.

"Percy is meeting with the harbormaster and handling clan security logistics," Seraphina replies, her voice even but carrying an undercurrent of steel. "The safety of our guests is equally important to table arrangements and a mate’s responsibility, wouldn't you agree, Grandmother?"

I blink in surprise. This is the first time I've seen Seraphina directly challenge her grandmother, standing her ground without yielding. The moment crystallizes something in my understanding: beneath allSeraphina's perfectionist demands and clan politics lies genuine love for Percy, not just political alliance.