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When an overly rambunctious neighbor began stomping loudly upstairs, both Fiona and her feline companion nearly leapt out of their skin before recognizing the source of the perceived assault. As Fiona forced her hammering heart to still once more, the cat curled tighter, rumbling in solidarity.
Finally, Fiona broke down, dialing Callum despite her stubborn self-reliance. His relieved voice provided some solace as he efficiently arranged transportation within minutes.
Callum was waiting when Fiona reached his formidable estate. Whatever tensions still lingered between them, his strong arms promised safe harbor.
There, in the pre-dawn haven of Callum's chamber, she finally surrendered to overwhelming exhaustion, lulled by her beloved cat's purring and her mate's strong arm draped securely around her.
Morning light came too soon, and even a luxurious breakfast tray laden with all her favorites couldn't soothe her anxiety. Sensing her distress, Callum tucked her tighter into his side, nuzzling tenderly until the tension reluctantly eased.
"All proceeds precisely as planned, my heart," he murmured.
Bolstered by his sincere vows, she inhaled deeply as Callum served her tea just the way she liked it. "I don't doubt that you believe this formal mating is needed. But … what if the pack doesn't accept me? I'm no wolf shifter, just a human outsider carrying a future heir."
She dropped her gaze, hating the plaintive notes that crept into her tone but unable to restrain her festering doubts. After a lifetime of fighting for self-reliance, the possibility of public rejection threatened foundational parts of her identity and purpose.
With a kiss, Callum started his day, sending for a stylist to help her prepare for the event. She languished in bed, anxious, until the eccentric fox shifter arrived and took charge.
As the stylist worked, her nerves diminished further. Finally, she gathered the courage to share her private fears with the stylist. Henri responded with ardent reassurance and brought relieved tears to her eyes.
When he spun her to face the mirror at last, Fiona caught her breath, seeing a regal stranger gazing back at her. "Do I … really look all right?" she asked hesitantly, fingers hovering unsure over the elegant coif.
"More than all right!" Henri exclaimed. "You are the vision of ethereal glory, darling. A goddess born from moonbeams and gossamer." He theatrically pretended to faint at the sight of her splendor.
Fiona chuckled self-consciously at his effusive praise. Sensing her lingering self-doubt, Henri grasped her shoulders, staring deep into her eyes.
"I speak only the truth. You belong by Callum's side."
The stylist tilted her chin up firmly. "They would be fools not to see what a fierce blessing you are. Any pack would be honored to gain your fire." He squeezed her shoulders. "Trust in destiny … and in the heart of your fierce wolf mate."
As the eccentric fox shifter bustled theatrically through Callum's massive walk-in closet, Fiona perched on a tufted velvet bench, following his dramatic gestures with amusement.
"Oh, darling, look at all these divine options he's had custom-made for your blossoming figure … silks and taffetas galore!" He spun with a flourish, presenting a glittering assembly of gem-encrusted gowns.
Fiona grimaced, placing a protective hand over her abdomen. "Aren't those a bit … much? This bun in the oven kind of limits the glam factor …"
The stylist tsked loudly, batting away her concerns with a gloved hand. "Nonsense!"
He pivoted on a heel, tapping one claw thoughtfully against pursed lips until inspiration struck. With an excited shriek, he disappeared into the hanging apparel. "Trust Henri's vision, darling," his muffled voice declared to Fiona's stifled giggles.
Just as Fiona feared a real disaster, the eccentric fox shifter reappeared, clutching something midnight-dark and slinky. "Here we are! Our show-stopping centerpiece!"
Fiona recoiled instinctively. "Uh … don't you think that's a bit …"
"Glorious? Magnifique?" Henri trilled, whipping the gown through the air.
"Revealing," Fiona finished flatly, eying the plunging neckline. "I'm looking to prove my capability in raising the heir, not for a scandalous, wine-fueled, baby-making romp."
Henri pouted theatrically. "You human women are no fun."
Fiona gently took the dress from his grasp, returning it to the racks. She pursed her lips thoughtfully as she perused her options, finally selecting a conservatively draped navy sheath. "I think this sends the right message."
Sipping a glass of sparkling cider spritzer, Fiona watched lavishly adorned guests filter gracefully into the splendidly transformed ballroom below her balcony. She marveled inwardly at how cultured the assemblage appeared tonight compared to the chaotic revelries of past monthly Full Moon gatherings she'd witnessed.
Clearly, when circumstances demanded a more reverent tone to formally establish a future Luna matriarch, the shifter sphere was capable of dignified refinement. Gone were the displays of bare flesh and primal rutting under chaotic lighting. Instead, there were classical string arrangements, extravagant ice sculptures, and glittering chandeliers illuminating polite conversations.
Draining her glass, Fiona felt her misplaced nerves ebb, replaced by a growing anticipation that thrummed in her veins. If this refinement marked the realm she must navigate as Callum's partner in leadership, perhaps some part of her even looked forward to the challenge.
After sufficient elite guests filled the dazzling ballroom below, Callum extended a steady hand toward Fiona. "It is time, my love. Shall we make this happy proclamation official?"
