Miranda
The common square should have been full.
Rows of chairs stretched across the stone beneath the enormous projection screen, enough to seat every resident of Blackstone with room left for visitors from the surrounding settlements. Tables lined the community hall, covered with drinks, small plates, and boxes of cupcakes tied with pale blue ribbon.
More than half the chairs remained empty.
Some families had refused the invitation outright. Others had accepted the cupcakes delivered to their homes but would not come to the square and watch a Lycan king marry a wolf.
They had spent their lives being warned that such a union would bring disaster, and one wedding invitation was not enough to undo decades of fear.
Still, more people had come than I expected.
Matthew and Jake sat on
