Page 70 of Hex and the Kitty

The next few hours passed in a pleasant haze. Following Ellie’s instructions, Molly bathed with the mysterious beauty potion, which left her skin subtly luminescent. She submitted to her friends’ ministrations as they styled her copper curls into an elegant arrangement with wisps framing her face and tiny enchanted flowers woven throughout.

“They respond to your emotions,” Ellie explained, securing the last bloom. “Blue for calm, gold for joy, rose for romance.”

Celeste applied subtle makeup that enhanced Molly’s features without overwhelming them. “The man already thinks you’re perfect,” she reasoned. “This is just highlighting your natural beauty.”

Throughout the preparations, conversation flowed easily between the friends. They shared stories of their own relationships—Celeste describing how she’d initially resisted Kade’s intensity, Ellie recounting her journey from grief to reopening her heart to Reed.

“Did you know immediately?” Molly asked Celeste. “That Kade was right for you?”

Celeste laughed, shaking her head. “Kade and I have been bonded since children, but you know, when I first moved back, I lost my memories of him. He drove me crazy at first. Too bossy, too overprotective. But beneath all that alpha wolf posturing beat a heart completely devoted to making me happy.”

“How did you learn to trust it?” Molly pressed. “To believe this was real?”

Celeste paused, understanding the deeper question. “When I realized I could be completely myself with him—flaws, magical mishaps, and all—and he not only accepted me but cherished those parts. And when I realized I’d do anything to protect him too. That’s when I knew.”

Molly nodded, thinking of Warrick’s steady presence through dough monsters and smoke creatures alike. How he’d never once suggested her magic needed controlling or her enthusiasm tempering. Instead, he’d matched her step for step, offering his strength to complement her creativity.

“It’s terrifying,” she admitted. “Opening yourself to that kind of vulnerability.”

“That’s how you know it’s real,” Ellie said softly. “The scary parts are worth facing when the right person stands beside you.”

FIFTY-FIVE

When they finally guided Molly to the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. The midnight gown fit perfectly, highlighting her curves while the starry beadwork caught light with every movement. Her hair, arranged in soft copper waves with those tiny, magical flowers, framed a face that glowed with both cosmetic enhancement and genuine happiness.

“The flowers are turning gold,” Celeste observed, smiling at Molly’s reflection.

A distant clock chimed, marking the hour. Dusk had begun to settle over Whispering Pines, streetlamps flickering to life along cobblestone paths. Through the window, Molly watched neighbors in formal attire making their way toward the community center.

A flicker of anxiety tightened her chest. “What if Gus follows through on his threats?”

“Then he’ll face the combined protective power of Whispering Pines’ best witches,” Ellie reminded her. “Plus one very determined tiger shifter who would tear through walls to keep you safe.”

Before Molly could respond, the bakery’s bell chimed downstairs.

“And speaking of your tiger,” Celeste grinned. “Perfect timing.”

“We’ll get the door,” Ellie volunteered, pulling Celeste along. “Take a moment. Breathe.”

Alone, Molly smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her gown. The flowers in her hair shifted color slightly, reflecting her nervous anticipation. She touched the delicate beadwork across the bodice, still marveling at Warrick’s thoughtfulness.

Beyond physical attraction, beyond the excitement of new romance, Molly recognized the deeper foundation they’d built—mutual respect, shared purpose, and unwavering support through danger. Somewhere along their journey, Warrick Shaw had become not just someone she desired, but someone she trusted implicitly.

Taking a steadying breath, Molly made her way downstairs, one hand careful on the railing to manage both her gown and the unfamiliar heels Ellie had insisted upon. At the bottom of the staircase, she paused.

Warrick stood in the center of her bakery, magnificent in a perfectly tailored black suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and powerful build. His deep brown hair, with those distinguished silver streaks at the temples, had been styled back from his face, highlighting the strong lines of his jaw. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, and the expression that crossed his face stopped her heart.

Wonder. Pride. Desire. Reverence. All these emotions played across features usually schooled to careful control. His golden eyes, the mark of his royal tiger lineage, brightened as they traced her appearance, seeming to memorize every detail.

The moment stretched between them, silent save for the quiet gasp Celeste failed to suppress.

“You’re stunningly beautiful,” Warrick finally said, his deep voice rough with emotion.

The words warmed Molly from within, but it was the naked admiration in his eyes that truly touched her. No practiced flattery, just honest reaction from a man who rarely revealed his feelings so openly.

“Thank you for the dress,” she replied, descending the final stairs. “It’s perfect.”

“It suits you.” He approached, each step deliberate, powerful. “Though you’d outshine any garment.”

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