Page 63 of Frost and Felines

"Looking good, boss." Charlotte appeared in the doorway, clipboard in hand as always. "Everything's set up in the outdoor gardens. The flowers look incredible."

"They better. Mallory and I have been planning, designing, and laboring over them since January." Kieran turned to face his manager, his chest swelling with pride. The outdoor gardens had been their first major project together—a vision they had crafted during those long winter nights after their engagement.

A low rumble of thunder interrupted his thoughts. Kieran's head snapped toward the window. Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, rolling in from the east. His tiger instincts heightened instantly, sensing the change in air pressure.

"That's... unexpected," Charlotte said carefully. "The forecast promised perfect weather."

Kieran moved to the window, his jaw slightly tightening. "The forecast doesn't account for storm witches."

This wasn't nature's doing. Those clouds carried Mallory's signature—the particular electric blue tinge at their edges, the way they moved against the wind rather than with it. After a year of watching her practice and master her abilities, he recognized her magical signature immediately.

"Is she having second thoughts?" Charlotte asked quietly.

"No." Kieran's response came instantly, a territorial growl underlying his certainty. "Something's bothering her."

For the past year, Mallory had maintained remarkable control over her powers. They had worked through her fears together—her old beliefs that she was somehow cursed and didn't deserve happiness. The storm clouds hadn't appeared unexpectedly in months. Whatever was causing this had to be significant.

"I need to go to her." Kieran moved toward the door, his protective instincts surging.

"But tradition says?—"

"I don't give a damn about tradition." He grinned, the charming smile that had once won him a reputation as Saltwater Grove's most eligible bachelor. "I've never been a traditional man."

Charlotte sighed but didn't try to stop him. "She's getting ready in her old suite."

Kieran nodded and strode through the inn's corridors with purpose, his presence commanding attention from guests and staff alike. The Hearthstone hummed with wedding preparations—floral arrangements in every corner, champagne being chilled, and the kitchen bustling with activity. Their special day, meticulously planned down to the last detail.

Outside, another rumble of thunder confirmed his suspicions. The storm was growing stronger. Mallory was upsetabout something, and nothing—not tradition, not superstition, not anything—would keep him from going to her.

As he rounded the corner toward her old suite, Kieran slowed his pace. He wouldn't barge in demanding answers. Whatever fears troubled her, he would soothe them away with the same patient determination that had won her heart in the first place.

Kieran soon reached the door of Mallory's old suite. Amy stood guard outside.

"Boss, you can't—" Amy's eyes widened as she took in his determined expression. "The groom isn't supposed to see?—"

"Amy," Kieran cut her off with a smile that combined charm and authority in equal measure. "I appreciate your dedication to tradition, but I need five minutes with my bride."

The young receptionist hesitated, glancing nervously down the hallway.

"Charlotte will forgive you," he assured her, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And if she doesn't, I'll handle it."

Amy's resistance crumbled. "Five minutes," she conceded, stepping aside.

Kieran slipped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Mallory's familiar fresh rain scent mixed with the unmistakable crackling energy that always surrounded her when her magic was active. Through the window, he could see the storm clouds gathering faster now, lightning flickering between them.

He about lost his breath when he caught sight of her. She stood by the window in her wedding dress, a vision in classic white satin that hugged her slender form before flaring out at the hips. Her hair was swept up in an elegant arrangement, tiny crystal pins catching the light like stars. She hadn't noticed him yet, her light blue eyes fixed on the storm brewing outside—the physical manifestation of her emotions.

"If you're trying to water the gardens before the ceremony, there are easier ways," he said softly.

Mallory whirled around, her hands instinctively flying up. "Kieran! You're not supposed to see me yet!"

He walked over to her and clasped her hands in his. "When have we ever done things the way we're supposed to?"

Despite her obvious anxiety, a small smile formed on her lips. "You know, you're impossible, right?"

"And you're creating a thunderstorm on our wedding day." He brushed his thumbs across her knuckles. "Tell me what's wrong."

Mallory's eyes darted away. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just..."

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