Page 50 of Clashing With The Grumpy Wolf
Under the table, I find Julia's hand and cover it with mine, a gesture both protective and supportive. When our eyes meet again, I see both determination and fear in her gaze, a combination that makes my wolf want to both howl with pride and bare its teeth against whatever threatens her.
The room falls silent as we watch the screen, waiting for a response. I look at Julia, memorizing the determined set of her jaw, the fierce intelligence in her eyes. For her, I'll face whatever comes.
For her, I'll hunt this thief to the ends of the earth.
On the screen, the clock continues its merciless countdown.
Chapter 15
Julia
Andherewegoagain.
I stand slightly behind as Seraphina and Silverine argue over the color of the candles that are supposed to grace the honor table. In my peripheral vision, I notice Courtney making notes on her laptop, occasionally glancing up at the bickering dragons with wide, attentive eyes before returning to whatever task has her brow furrowed in concentration.
Despite what Adrian told me about her past, I can’t bring myself to think of her as a suspect. She’s beenworking with me since the start. Why would she do any of that just to steal from me now? It doesn’t make sense.
The tone increases between Seraphina and her grandmother, bringing my attention back to the two dragons. The argument seems trivial, but I'm not surprised. Weddings are stressful and tensions often come to a high a few days before, leading to pointless flare-ups like this one.
The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow, after all, and the thief still has to accept our offer.
"White candles are much more elegant." Silverine Draak's voice remains calm as she gestures toward the two crystal candelabras arranged on the antique mahogany table between us. “And Draaks’ weddings always have white candles.”
I remain silent in the elegant Rose Salon of Windfall Manor, caught between two dragon women locked in a power struggle disguised as an argument over candle colors. The morning sunlight streams through tall windows, illuminating dust motes that dance in the air and catching on Silverine's pale-purple scales.
And my thoughts keep circling back to Adrian. To what we shared. To the way he made me feel, like I was the one woman in the world.
I want to feel like that again. If I'm honest, I want to feel like that every day for the rest of my life.
Ugh. Focus.
"I like the blue candles because they complement the linens and the porcelain." Seraphina's tail taps against the marble floor in a steady, fast rhythm. Her normally perfect posture is rigid with tension beneath her designer blazer and her wings are held high and tight against her back.
I've seen enough nervous brides in my career. I know when one is about to snap and Seraphina Draak is as brittle as kindling. She’s about to burst into flames—literally.
I take a deep breath, inhaling the mingled scents of fresh roses in crystal vases and the distinct ashen smell that permeates all spaces inhabited by dragons. Two days until the wedding, and we're arguing about candle colors. This is fine. Everything is completely under control.
"Perhaps we could consider a compromise," I suggest, keeping my voice professional and my smile neutral. "We could alternate white and blue candles among the tables or use white candles with blue ribbons tied around them. That would incorporate nicely with the wedding color scheme."
Silverine dismisses my suggestions with a cool glance and a slight wave of her clawed hand. "That would look tacky at best, but thank you for your… creative suggestion."
The way she says "creative" makes it sound like I suggested replacing the wedding cake with a pile of dirt. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from sighing out loud.
“I don’t even know why we’re going through the motions here, to be honest.” Silverine inhales a long, deep breath, her nostrils flaring. “The tiara is still missing and there will be no wedding without it.”
“Grandmother!” Seraphina turn to Silverine, her eyes flashing bright and two thin columns of faint smoke rising from her nostrils. “I am marrying Percy Ashbane, with or without the tiara.”
“Not if you want to be matriarch of this clan, you’re not,” Silverine retorts, her back stiff. “No Draak matriarch has been married without for over nine generations. It’s tradition.”
Before the situation can escalate further, Silverine's phone chimes with an incoming call. She checks the screen, her violet eyes narrowing slightly.
"I must take this. The clan accountant requires my input." With regal movements, she glides from the room, her heels clicking against the marble floor, the scent of expensive perfume lingering in her wake.
As soon as the door closes, Seraphina lets out a sharp, smoky sigh. A thin wisp of actual smoke escapes her nostrils, dissipating quickly in the air. Her shoulders drop slightly, and for a moment, the perfect bride facade slips. She gives me an unexpected conspiratorial look that transforms her face from intimidating to almost… friendly.
"My grandmother believes if we change one tradition, the entire Draak lineage will crumble to dust," Seraphina says, moving toward the window where the light catches her pearlescent scales. She pours herself a glass of water from a crystal pitcher, her movements more relaxed now that we're alone. "You'd think after four centuries of existence, we'd be made of sterner stuff."
The casual comment nearly makes me drop the candle sample I'm holding. In all our interactions, I've never heard Seraphina speak this way. With humor and do I detect a hint of rebellion?