I find a dress that’s not too fancy, not too casual, and has a neckline wide enough to show off my mark. I spend too much time on my hair and make-up, checking myself obsessively in the mirror for any perceived flaws.
“Rye, you look great!” Tyson yells down the hall for the tenth time. “They’re going to love you, relax!”
I hadn’t anticipated how nervous I would be about meeting Jarek’s parents, but here I am trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. Maybe the dress is too tight? Too low cut? Am I wearing too much make-up? Not enough? Were they going to be disappointed that I’m not a wolf? Did we mark each other too soon? Not soon enough?
“Rye! Get your ass in gear,” Tyson appears behind my reflection in the bathroom mirror and steers me towards the door. “We’re going to be late, a
