It wasn’t just any dress. It was the dress.

It was hidden right at the back of the rack, stuffed in between a Grecian-style gown and an enormous floofy petticoat. I drew it out and held it up to the light, my breath catching in my throat as I admired the glittering beading catching the light.

The gown was a simple design in soft ivory satin – a sweetheart neckline with scalloped detail around the bust, off-the-shoulder cuffs edged with a line of pearls, and a plunging waist accentuated with lines of gold floral beading and more pearls. The fishtail skirt swung across my knees, shots of gold thread catching the light.

It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Throughout my career as a wedding planner, a stab of envy always hit me whenever I caught the smile of love on a bride’s face, or saw her sob as she tried on her wedding dress the morning of the wedding, or watched her and her beloved kiss at the altar. Over and over I told myself that marriage was just an archaic societal construct and plenty of people lived full and happy lives without ever having a partner, and I was able to bury that little sliver of jealousy deep down, almost so deep I could pretend it wasn’t there at all.

But holding that dress in my arms, my whole body ached with a need I’d denied for so long. Tears sprung to my eyes as I breathed in the sweet smell of the beautiful fabric. I ran a finger over the exquisite gold threads, feeling the smoothness of the pearls.

To wear something like this, to pull it over your head and pull tight the neat corset lacing, to feel it shimmer and shift against your skin, to take your first steps in the matching embroidered pumps and to know that after your short walk down the aisle, your prince will be waiting there to kiss you and make you his forever—

“Do you like that one, dearie?”

I jerked so hard I nearly dropped the dress. “Oh, no.” I tried to shove the gown back into the rack, but Marsha grabbed it from me and held it up against my body. I backed away, shaking my head. “No, no. I’m not getting married. I don’t even have a guy. I’m just the wedding planner. I was just thinking of it for Alex.”

“Nonsense. If you’re any kind of wedding planner you’d know this cut is all wrong for her. And besides, a pretty thing like you, without a suitor? Poppytosh. You’re probably beating the men off with a stick.”

I tried to push the gown away. “I’m really not—”

Marsha shoved the gown back into my hands and pushed me into a changing room. “Go on, try it on.”

“But—”

“No buts, young lady. You spend more than enough time running around after brides. You might as well relish any chance to be one for a few minutes.”

And that’s how I found myself standing in a changing room, holding the world’s most perfect dress and staring at my terrified reflection. This is nuts, I’m the wedding planner. I’m not here to try on dresses.

Still, it was an awfully pretty dress. I held it up beside me, noticing how the ivory accentuated the lines of my cheekbones and made my usually pale skin glow. A tiny smile forced its way across my lips.

“Go on, Willow,” Alex cried from outside. “I’m the bride, and what I say goes, and I want to see you in that dress!”

Fine. I wasn’t going to win this. Sighing, I unbuttoned my shirt, and tugged off my bra. Next, I unbuttoned my trousers, and slid them over my thighs.

When I stepped out of them, the hem caught on the ankle of my prosthesis. I bent down to tug it off, and as my fingers slid over the carbon fibre, the stab of envy returned, twisting in my stomach like a knife.

It’s all fine playing dress-up, but don’t go thinking this could happen to you for real. Marriage, a family, kids … that’s for people who aren’t broken.

I grabbed the fabric, balling my trousers tight. I hurled them at the mirror with all my might. They hit the glass and slid down into a pile. Now I was staring at my body, naked except for a black pair of panties and my prosthesis. Tears sprung in my eyes. Curtis was right, what a disgusting creature I was, not a whole human like Alex. I had no idea what Irvine even saw when he called me beautiful.

“Willow, we are growing impatient!” Marsha bellowed.

Furiously, I wiped the tears away. I was going to have to go out there and pretend I was just a girl trying on a dress, and not let them see this was tearing me up inside. I unlaced the corset and leaned against the wall for support as I stepped into it, careful not to trip while I supported myself on my prosthesis. I straightened up, letting the dress fall around me. It clung to my body, skimming my hips and nipping in just above my knees before flaring out in a wide fishtail skirt. I spun in a slow circle, and the gown flared out, the glittering golden threads shimmering like jets of fire.

Careful to avoid looking in the mirror, I tightened the corset as best I could, smoothed down the front of the bustier and made sure my prosthesis was completely hidden by the long hem. Taking a deep breath, I slid the curtain aside and stepped out in front of the mirrors.

The reflection that greeted me stopped my breath. Is that me? It can’t be me. It’s a trick mirror.

But it was no trick. I looked like a real bride. I looked like a picture in a magazine, joyful and mysterious, a princess waiting for her magic carriage and glass slippers to arrive. I imagined walking up the aisle with soft violin music wafting around me, and my mother handing me off to Irvine …

Hang on a second, where had that come from?

Irvine was lovely and all, and the way I felt around him certainly made me giddy, but he wasn’t husband material. Not even close. For one thing, he was a werewolf. For another, we weren’t even together. We had that whole mates thing, but it was just a biological thing, it didn’t mean we were together together. We were just … friends-with-benefits together.

And yet here I was standing in front of a mirror in the world’s most perfect wedding dress, and all I could think about was him.

“Willow, you look amazing,” Alex breathed. She took my hands in hers, and stared approvingly down my whole body. “That dress is perfect for you.”

I shook my head. “You’re the one who looks amazing.”

She did at that. The Grecian-style dress hugged her body in all the right places, the flowing chiffon moving as she did. Marsha had swept her hair back and pinned in a floor-length veil of similar gauzy fabric. With the inevitable breezes that would blow through the trees at her outdoor ceremony, it would create dramatic shapes that would make for beautiful photographs.

She was a dazzling bride. I was a poor imposter in a dress I’d never have the right to wear.

“I think we’ve found the ones,” Alex beamed. “These are the perfect dresses.”

“You’ve found the one,” I said, dropping her hands and slinking back into the dressing room, where I was already tugging at the corset straps. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride.”

---

Alex brought the dress, and the shoes to match. Of course she did, it was perfect. After much fussing, Marsha put my dress – no, not my dress, obviously, I mean, the dress I’d tried on – back on the shelf and made sure I knew exactly where it was, just “in case you come back for it.”

I left the shop with that knife of jealousy twisting in my gut. As we passed through the door, the raven croaked defiantly at us, and lifted a wing in greeting, as if to inquire what had taken so long.

I checked my phone. No text from Mum.

There was a jewellery shop nearby that my sources said had great stuff, but Alex insisted we return to Crookshollow. “I know exactly where we need to go,” she said. Of course she knew some secret place where cool, rich artists shopped.

But no, she made Simon drop us right on the high street of Crookshollow. It was the middle of the day, so the street was packed with tourists ducking in and out of the crystal shops and tarot readers who lined the street. Crookshollow liked to bill itself as the most haunted village in England, because of the witches burned here hundreds of years ago and were buried at that tiny cemetery Irvine took me to. Supposedly their spirits still hung around the place. I’d thought the whole thing was silly when I’d first arrived, but judging by the sheer number of shapeshifters and now witches in the area, I was starting to believe the claims had some validity.

I got out of the car carefully, making sure my gait wouldn’t appear odd. Alex rushed ahead of me. In her excited state, she’d probably never notice my limp.

“Come on, Willow.” Alex waved at me from halfway down the street. “You’re going to love this.”

Alex walked right into one of the strange crystal shops that lined the streets of Crookshollow. I couldn’t believe Alex was going to ruin her perfect dress with some cheap gothic junk. When I finally made it inside, Alex stood at the counter, pawing through boxes of crystals, while the stout old woman behind the counter placed her choices in neat rows on a leather mat.

Alex’s face lit up when she saw me. “Willow, meet Clara, Ryan’s mother and our wedding officiant. Clara, this is Willow. She just moved to Crookshollow from London, and she helped me find the perfect dress at Marsha’s store today.”

The old woman looked me up and down, Ryan’s kind brown eyes giving me the once over. She must’ve decided I was worth her time, for she shuffled forward, clasping the black shawl around her shoulders with gnarled fingers. Black hair streaked down her back, startling against her wizened features. I gulped when I remembered that Marsha had said she was a witch. Clara Raynard definitely had an air of authority about her. I bet she was the head witch.

Finally, Clara took one of my hands and squeezed it. “Welcome to our village,” she said, and her eyes crinkled at the corners. If she was a real witch, then I had a feeling she was definitely on the side of good, which made me feel slightly better.

“Thank you, it’s nice to meet you.”

“And you. Alex was telling me you met my friend Marsha. I’m sorry it didn’t occur to me to introduce Alex to her sooner, but I’m glad you found her.”

“That’s my job.” I grinned. “Her dresses are beautiful.”

“Of course they are, and enchanted with magic to bless the union. In twenty-four years of running her store, not a single one of Marsha’s brides has ever had a divorce.”

“No?” I found that a little hard to believe.

“Not a one. Oh, she’s had a few brides who’ve cancelled their weddings after buying their dress, certain that they had made a terrible mistake. But not a single divorce. When you wear one of her dresses, the magic helps you to clear your mind and focus on the one you love, the one you’re destined to marry. And it helps to keep the oath you swear to each other foremost in the couple’s mind.” Clara must’ve seen something in my face, because she patted my arm. “I’m scaring you, dear. Please, don’t you mind an old woman like me. Come and see what Alex has found.”

“See these?” Alex held up two crystals. They’d been cut as long, thin points. They were quite beautiful – their dappled surface a brilliant deep blue. “They’re Lapis Lazuli. This stone was sacred to the ancient Egyptians. They believed wearing the stone allowed them to commune directly with the gods.”

That’s … kind of weird. “They’re very pretty, but I thought we were looking for jewellery.”

“We are.” Alex beamed. “I’m going to wind these points on threads of silver and make them into a tiara.”

Suddenly, I understood. “The black crown Bianca wore at her wedding, you made that.”

Alex nodded. “I thought I’d do a trial piece first, before I made my own jewellery. Mine won’t be quite as dramatic as Bianca’s, but I think I can get something really cool. What do you think?”

I think you’re amazing and beautiful and talented and you have both legs and a perfect husband. The stab of jealousy twisted in my gut. Angry at myself for feeling that way about a client and friend who was genuinely wonderful, I plastered a smile on my face.

“I think you’ll look absolutely radiant.”

---

After buying up several stones from Clara, and a stop at Bewitching Bites to taste a selection of amazing cakes to decide on the flavour for hers, Alex and I ended up back at Raynard Hall. We were hanging Alex’s dress at the back of her enormous closet, when Simon called up that the Ryan wanted to see her. Alex practically bounded down the stairs, and I trailed after her, not wanting to witness an intimate moment between them in my current state.

As I descended the stairs into the grand hall, Irvine and Ryan emerged from an adjacent hallway, followed by Caleb and another man. The wolf scent was thick between them, so I guessed the other guy was a werewolf as well. Alex leapt into Ryan’s arms, and he spun her around and kissed her long and deep.

I averted my eyes, catching Irvine’s gaze. He gave me a wink, and suddenly my body was filled with a different kind of ache. I may not ever have love like that, but at least I wouldn’t die a virgin.

Ryan set Alex down and wiped a strand of hair from her face, gazing at her adoringly. “I hope you had a successful shopping day, and spent every last cent we earned from that last show.”

“I don’t think I could do that if I tried, but it was so cool. Willow’s a genius. She found this amazing dress shop, run by this absolutely crazy lady named Marsha Babcock who is friends with your mum.”

“Ah, I know Marsha well.” Ryan grinned. “I can’t believe I’d forgotten she makes dresses.”

“That’s exactly what Marsha and your mum said. But it’s fine, because Willow found her and I found the perfect dress. Everything is falling into place.” Alex beamed. “So what have you guys been discussing?”

“It’s not nearly as happy as your news,” Ryan said, his mouth set in a thin line. “Irvine noticed someone watching his cabin last night.”

“Is that so?” I asked. Irvine was avoiding my eyes.

“Do you think it has to do with the ring—I mean, with your business deal?” Alex asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Caleb said. “But it makes we wonder if someone is not watching us. I’m reminded of that guy you saw outside your flat when Serenity trashed the shop?” His dark eyes penetrated mine. I nodded, looking away as a flush crept up my neck.

“Yeah, they could be related,” Alex said. “Did you get a good look at the guy?”

Irvine shook his head. “It was too dark and he was hidden in the trees. I managed to follow his trail, and he left this behind.” He fished the medallion out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I can’t make head nor tails of it.”

Alex held the medallion up to the light, and studied the stag. “Weird. It looks like it was made in one of those coin-stamp machines in tourist attractions.”

“Huh?”

“You know … you go to Warwick Castle on a school trip, and you stick a pound into the machine, and it stamps the coin with a picture of the castle and now you can’t use the coin anymore but you have a pretty castle on it.” She turned the coin over. “I must’ve collected a dozen of them from different tourist spots over the years. Look, you can see where the original coin has been squashed down, there.” She pointed to the rim of the medallion. I squinted at it, and could just make out the edge of a pound coin.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before.” Mum didn’t even let me stay over at other girl’s houses, let alone go on field trips. She didn’t think the school would take proper care of my leg.

“Hmmm.” Elinor pressed the coin back into Irvine’s hand. “Make sure you show that to Anna. She’s good at research and symbols and stuff. She might be able to trace where this machine is.”

“Good idea.” Caleb grabbed the medallion and stuffed it into my pocket. “I’m glad everyone’s able to be so helpful. It would be really annoying if a person knew something about this but didn’t speak up.” He said the last bit looking directly at me.

“Um … yeah. That would suck.” Alex looked confused.

I was saved by the buzz of my phone in my pocket. “I have to get this, sorry.” I grabbed my phone and raced outside, checking that no one followed me.

“Hi, Mum,” I breathed, hobbling sideways down the steps and racing to my car as fast as I could. I couldn’t risk any of them hearing this conversation. “I was worried when you didn’t answer my text.”

“I was at the pictures. There was a new teen werewolf film out today and I needed to write a review for the site. They’re so strict with the mobile phones these days, so I had to turn it off. I called as soon as the film finished. I’m worried. Carol, what’s going on? Did you see a werewolf?”

I slid into the driver’s side, and slammed the door behind me. I opened my mouth, but the words stuck in my throat. If I told her the real truth, she’d find a way to get to me and drag me back to London. She was only leaving me in peace because she thought I was safe. I hated lying to her, but if I wanted answers without giving up my freedom I’d need to be careful. “No, where I am seems to be werewolf free, so far. But I had this weird dream last night that something was wrong, that someone was after you, and they were trying to use me to get to you. That’s not true, is it? Is something going on there you’re not telling me?”

As lies went, it was a particularly clever one. Mum believed that dreams could predict the future or connect people to each other. She also believed that being bit by my father had given me other special abilities, although I’d never experienced anything that could be called paranormal apart from the ability to smell werewolves. If she thought I’d seen something, she’d tell me.

Mum paused for a fraction of a second before launching into a mighty tirade. “Oh, Carol, I didn’t want to worry you, but I’m so afraid. The werewolves have sent a bounty hunter after me because of the expose I wrote about the werewolf who revealed himself at that tattooist’s wedding. They’re threatening to find you and use you to make me do their bidding. And if you’re having premonitions in your sleep, it means your powers are finally coming in, and you’ll need to come back and learn to commune with the spirits from my friend Serena—”

Anger rose within me as I realised what she was doing. “Mum, you’re lying to me.”

“I am not!” The fierce indignation in her voice gave her away.

“You are. You just made all of that up so I’d come back to London. That’s low, Mum.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but when a daughter runs away and doesn’t even give me a way to find her, drastic measures must be taken. What happened if werewolves attacked me and I needed you for a blood transfusion but I couldn’t find you—”

“Then just commune with me in my dreams. Bye, Mum.” I hang up while she was still chastising me and tossed the phone on the seat. My blood boiled with anger, but at least I knew now that she wasn’t in trouble. At least, not that she knew of.

I turned back to the house, just as Irvine lowered his head in front of my window. I jumped, banging my head on the roof of the car.

“Ow, jeez.” I rubbed my head.

Irvine tapped on the window. “Willow, open the door.”

I did. He slid in beside me, his arms falling around my shoulders in that easy way that reminded me of Alex and Ryan hugging in the hall. And that made me think of the wedding dress I tried on, and that make my chest tighten.

“You ken I had to say something,” he said, stroking my hair.

“Caleb knows,” I said, burying my head into his shoulder.

“Probably he ken you were with me last night. He’s nae a fool. But he doesn’t ken that you ken we’re shifters. Although I think we should tell them.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I ken.” He continued to stroke my hair. “But it will help me keep you safe. You ken the full moon is coming soon.”

I nodded.

“I’m not gonnae leave you alone. I’ll watch you the whole time. But I need help, and that means I need everyone to have as much information as possible. Do you ken?”

I nodded, my chest tightening. “I ken.”

“So I can tell them?”

I nodded, squeezing his shoulders. I hope this is the right decision.

“Do you want to tell them?”

I shook my head vigorously, sinking into Irvine’s embrace. I peered behind him, across the expansive front lawn of Raynard Hall. I’d parked near the end of the west wing, where the edge of Crookshollow Forest crept right up near the edge of the house. I stared at the edge of the trees, thinking that in only a couple of days Irvine would be living in there, running around with a tail and sharp teeth …

What’s that?

I gasped, my whole body stiffening. A shape moved behind one of the raised beds and darted back toward the forest. A man, dressed in black pants and an army shirt. There was a pair of hunting binoculars around his neck. As he ran, he glanced back over his shoulder, and I got a good glimpse of his face.

It’s him.

Irvine shook my shoulders. “What is it, Willow? What do you see?”

“That was him,” I whispered. “It was the same guy I saw in front of my flat. He was hiding in the garden watching us.”