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We must have been convincing, though, because eventually Michael’s dad leaned in and said, “Perhaps its best to wait for that until later.”
We broke apart, laughing, and Michael swept me up into his arms. “Father, may I have ten minutes with my new bride before the reception?”
The high warlock raised an eyebrow, amusement clear in his gaze. “Tenminutes?”
“Fifteen, tops.”
The high warlock chuckled.
“You keep the town occupied, and we’ll be right back,” Michael said.
The high warlock clapped his son on the back. “Of course, but don’t be too long.”
“Oh, we won’t,” Michael said, and I tucked my head into his neck to hide the heated blush staining my cheeks. Even though I knew we weren’t going off to have sex, having his father—and basically everyone at the ceremony—believe we were felt mortifying.
Soft chuckles from the crowd made me blush as Michael carried me down the stairs off the stage and into the woods in the opposite direction to where the feasting area had been set up.
Once we were out of sight of everyone, Michael set me down on my feet and grinned at me. “Okay, wife of mine. Let’s get to the next stage of our plan.”
“Sure, husband.” I opened my bag and handed him the cloning spell. “Time to party the night away at our wedding reception, you mean?”
He chuckled. “Yes—and to go save those two wolf shifters and get the hell out of here.”
