by Mia Wolf
A mating ceremony is an important event for the clan, and Rose decided that the best option was to get a Shoma tailored especially for me, which we did. Rose got it made from a designer in New York, who wasn’t Karen, I know because I ensured it. I wanted to keep things discreet.
My Shoma for the ceremony is a white fabric with a sheen of the moon. Unlike the dress I had worn during the winter solstice, this one is long. Over the last six months, Rose has taught me how to tie a Shoma, but the one for the ceremony is way beyond my capabilities to handle. This one, unlike regular Shomas, drapes on every wrap. There are pins stuck in my dress which disappear as Rose puts one wrap after the other. When it’s done, I look like a blooming white flower. I twirl around, and the layers of my dress twirl around with me.
“You look precious, Jessica,” Rose pouts her lips in glee. I thank her for all of her efforts. She has become my personal fashion designer ever since I moved into the village, I realize. Fashion designer, best friend, neighbor, confidante, and the list goes on. It’s an honor to have her by my side.
As per the bear tradition, Joshua is not allowed to come to our apartment before tonight. The ritual mandates that the male and the female cannot see each other before the commencement of the ceremony. Joshua had complained about it all night, and he begrudgingly left the house in the morning before I woke up. I know because I had a dozen texts on my phone in the morning that read, I don’t want to leave you. I miss you already. Do I really need to go? And several sad face and crying face emojis. I got a good laugh out of it. He’s such a crybaby, I tell him in a text message. He can live without seeing me for an afternoon. Though, I don’t want to admit that I miss him, too.
Rose leaves after doing my hair and tells me she’ll come to escort me to the ceremony in about an hour. I have an hour to kill during which I decide I want to text the man who I’m binding myself to. Seriously, I scowl at the both of us. We really can’t go an afternoon without each other.
“Hello,” I text. “What’s up?”
“Missing you. Terribly. What about you?” Joshua replies, and I blush.
“Same. Want to know something?” I wonder if it would be a good idea to tease Joshua right now.
“Yeah, tell me?” If I know him, I know he’s probably getting all worked up about what I’m about to say.
“I’m looking super-hot,” I type and hit send. I add a wink emoji for emphasis.
His response is a series of heart eye emojis and no words at all.
“So, we’re doing it tonight,” Joshua texts after a while. “After all it’s the mating ceremony.”
I leave the chat after sending a cute smile emoji and give him no definitive reply, leaving it to his imagination. My phone keeps buzzing afterward, and I know it is Joshua asking for an answer. I let him suffer a little.
Rose shows up soon after I’m done fastening the strap of my white stiletto heels which have ribbons that wrap around my feet and go up to slightly below my knees.
I look like some kind of a fantasy creature in the outfit when I’m all dolled up and ready to go. I can’t wait to see Joshua’s expression when he gets to take a look. He hasn't seen the dress at all.
The ceremony is to be held in the evening. When Rose and I go up to the rotunda, the final rays of the sun are taking their leave. As we walk down the neighborhood, I steady my feet as much as I steady my nerves. The village is decorated once again. After the winter solstice festival, the past six months had been calm and uneventful. No extravagant celebrations. But now, since the mating ceremony is technically a celebration for the entire clan, the village is bright and luminescent once again. I like it like this.
Bubbles of glowing lights fall on the winding path down the rotunda. With measured footsteps, I make my way to the beginning of something new.
Every step I take, I miss my mother more. Would she be happy if she were here? Would she be proud of me? I don’t know the answer to those questions anymore. I have not known the answer to those questions in a long time. When people you used to know a long, long time ago disappear, there comes a time when you can no longer fathom your life with them in it. For better or for worse. So, I don’t know if my mother would’ve liked my life the way it is right now. But I know what I’d say to her if she were here.
“I’ve found love, and I’m so goddamn happy. I can barely contain the joy. On the good days, and the bad. On tough days and those that pass by effortlessly. I’m proud of who I am, I’m proud of what I have, and I’m proud of what I’ve become. I hope that’s enough, mom.” That’s what I’d tell her.
Rose keeps her hand on the small of my back the entire way. I’m thankful because I don’t know how well I can hold my own right now.
The crowd is seated in the rotunda when I arrive. Rows of chairs are neatly stacked. I walk up the red carpet that cuts through them in the middle. It is lined with decorative flowers on either side. I don’t meet anyone’s eyes in the crowd, though I feel like I can hear the hum of every piercing gaze onto me. It brings heat to my cheeks. I don’t lift my face up at all the entire time. I keep my eyes glued to my white ribbon stilettos. Right, left. One step at a time.
I hear the whispers and the gasps and some faraway cry of a child emanating from the crowd around me. I pay no attention to any of it. I block out everything and everyone as my heart rate picks up.
The rush, the shortness of breath, the quickened pulse. All signs of a dizzying high. This moment right now feels monumental. Like all of my life has been leading up to this. And the moment I realize the importance of right now, my mind fills with thoughts of the man of my dreams, the one I’m taking these steps with, the love of my life. There is no way any moment is ever going to be complete without him in it. I lift my mascara-covered lashes and find Joshua.
He is standing at the end of the carpet, in front of the crowd, on top of a dais. His eyes are fixed on me, and I fix mine on him.
I suddenly forget I’m under the scrutiny of a crowd. All I see is Joshua, dressed in a tuxedo and a white shirt. I laugh when I see he isn’t wearing a tie. I’m sure someone must’ve insisted he wear one, but he surely would’ve rebelled and gotten his way. His top two buttons are undone, and he looks absolutely mesmerizing. His hair is neatly made to look an aesthetically pleasing version of disheveled. His arms are tucked behind him.
Our eyes lock, and I swear I don’t see anything else. We stare intently at each other as I make my way up to him.
“You do realize the entire clan can see you both stripping each other naked with a gaze like that,” Rose whispers into my ears. I immediately avert my eyes. I feel flushed at the remark, and I can’t help but smile. When I look up to Joshua again, his expression is still grave.
I flick my chin in a manner of asking what he’s staring at which makes him chuckle. His dark, hooded look finally softens. He’s the playful, childlike Joshua now. Rose’s hand leaves my back as she makes her way to the front row of the seats. It’s just Joshua and me now, standing in front of a hundred people or so.
Joshua leans closer to me after Rose has left. A collective gasp permeates the gathering, but I find it easy to ignore when Joshua is glaring at me so reverently.
“You look stunning, Jessica,” Joshua says in that voice that he knows I find attractive. He uses it to turn me on quite often. “Ravishing,” he finishes.
I meet his stare, and I know what’s on his mind. I lightly grab hold of his arm. I have something else entirely on my mind. I’m thinking, I’m about to fall. I need him to hold me. “Don’t let go of me,” I mumble. “I can barely stand up.”
Joshua slides a strong hand around my waist and pulls me to him. It elicits another gasp from the crowd. But I feel better in his arms, they make me feel like I’ll be just fine.
Eli walks up to where we stand, and I assume it’s time to proceed with the ceremony. I don’t quite know how it goes. I ask Joshua what we’re about to do, and he explains that the ceremony involves taking the blessing from the family of the
alpha and the family of the official mate. Joshua reassures me that Eli can be the guardian for the both of us.
Eli stands facing the two of us with his back to the crowd and pulls a piece of paper out from his pocket. He isn’t wearing a Shoma today. He starts reciting something in a language I don’t understand. But the words that fall out of Eli’s mouth sound like a cleansing. Like a purge of some sort. I try not to ask any more questions while Eli is speaking so as not to be rude.
When Eli is done, he reaches and places a hand on Joshua’s shoulder.
“As the alpha of the clan, your union is a sacred one. And with my blessing and the blessing of everyone present here, I pronounce you to be each other’s mate.”
With that, it is official. Even though I had been practicing saying it to myself over and over again, I still can’t bring myself to call Joshua my mate. But he is. And I am his. The first time I had heard about any of this, I was uncomfortable. It felt too much like we’re animals. Now, I ask what’s wrong with that? It is pure and primal. It’s sacred.
Joshua pulls me by the waist and places a chaste kiss on my lips. Taken aback since I hadn’t seen it coming, I instantly blush. The boy has the power to get me worked up in all kinds of ways, I think to myself. I’ve signed up for a lifetime of this. The thought makes me chuckle.
After the ceremony is done, the celebration begins. Which is not unlike any other celebration. There are booze and music and food. Joshua and I are supposed to go around and greet the seniors first then we mingle with other members of the clan. Raymond does not show up to the ceremony which is hardly surprising. But Julia does. I’d love to put all that happened between Raymond and Joshua behind me, but I don’t think I can stand the man who hurt Joshua. If anything, I feel bad for Julia that she has to deal with him.
Rigsby, Tatiana, and Rose urge Joshua and me to go up to the dance floor, but Joshua refuses. For some reason, he is awfully conscious about dancing. He manages to avoid it on all occasions. But today is special. So I undo my shoes and take him by the hand onto the dancefloor. I cross my arms around his neck. Without my heels, I have to tip-top to reach up to him. Joshua wraps his arm around me and heaves me up. We slowly start swaying to the soft music.
“See you’re not so bad,” I tell Joshua.
“I can literally topple at any moment,” he jests.
We dance for a while then Joshua speaks again.
“We made it, baby.” His lip curls in a way it often does when Joshua smiles like he’s trying to contain himself. The more time passes, the more I’m amazed that we don’t tire of each other. I can’t believe my heart still skips a beat when that half-smile plays on his face. This has to be love. It’s messy, crazy, smoldering, exhausting, unrelenting, and absolutely magical. All at the same time.
“We made it,” I reply and nestle my head into the crook of Joshua’s neck.
Happiness is me. It’s that feeling that if death takes me now, I will not regret anything. Joshua kisses my forehead, and we spend the rest of the evening in each other’s arms, dancing under the starlight.
Find love and live happily.
Pretty good advice, mom.
*****
THE END
Continue reading the love story of Rose and Andrew below…
Book 2:
Craved by the Bear
A Paranormal Romance
Bear Caves Book 2
Chapter 1 – Rose
“Is the veil steady?” I ask the bride who I’m dressing up for her wedding ceremony. “It needs to comfortably sit on your head.”
The bride moves her neck around to check then nods at me in agreement. I do a once over of her hair, makeup, and the dress and feel satisfied when everything seems to be in place.
“Awesome. We’re almost done.” I beam at her.
It’s the biggest day of her life, she should look the best version of herself. That’s where I come in. The bridesmaids are to wear lemon yellow dresses with similar plates as the bride’s dress but with a little less aggressive definitions around the collar and the waist.
Everything was already fixed into place in my head the moment I had laid eyes on the bride and the groom. I always knew that clothes, fabrics, and colors made sense to me. Where most people saw a simple attire, I could see endless possibilities. I could see the stories waiting to be told, waiting to be let loose like an arrow. Looking at Jenna standing in front of the mirror wrapped in ivory right now, I can see another story.
I had been working on this project for two weeks, and now that it’s finally coming to life, culminating into that picture that only I could see, the rush is unmatched. It’s catharsis at its finest. I could get used to feeling like this. The feeling of creating something out of nothing. This, I remind myself, staring at the brightest smile on the bride’s face, is worth all the effort in the world.
I smile and think about how all this has come into being. The bride, Jenna, had absolutely loved some of the designs from my website. One in particular which was an orange gown I had designed not long after I had left college. It was for some special occasion, perhaps, the first anniversary of my relationship with Michael. The dress had a small collar at the back of the neck and plates that flowed down to my knees. I was quite impressed with myself at the time, and I loved the way I looked in it. I had that spark in me back then that I now desperately seek to retain in life. I sigh and grab a pin from the dresser, trying not to think about the orange dress or Michael. I let my gaze trail down the same plates in Jenna’s white wedding gown and press my lips. Oh well, in the end, I made something good out of it.
This is my first time doing something this big. Jenna had put me in charge of all the wedding attire. The bride, the groom, and the bridesmaids. Everyone who is someone tonight looks exactly how I want them to. Of course, all of the designs had been approved by Jenna, but she barely made any changes to what I suggested. Two weeks later, here we are.
“Shall I go and check in on the bridesmaids?” I ask the bride, wondering if she needs me for anything else.
She nods so I walk down the hall to the farthest room in the lobby where the bridesmaids are getting ready. I check my wristwatch for the time. 3 p.m. We’re running just a little bit later than I’d anticipated. It doesn’t help my anxiety.
I enter the room, and I’m instantly surrounded by the bridesmaids, who start speaking all at once.
“Alright, let’s take this one by one,” I tell them. I pick up a needle and a thread to fix a tear in one of the girls’ dresses. I fix loose laces, stick about half a dozen pins into buns, and arrange a bouquet of black-eyed Susans for the wedding ceremony.
Just as I finish up the work, the hotel staff informs me that Jenna needs me. I rush back to her room.
Ever since Jessica helped me set up my fashion website, which I have to say looks both sleek and suits my style to the T, it’s been gathering an audience. I have two orders for Shomas and another wedding dress project due in a month. If it continues like this, I might have to turn this into a full-time business.
Perhaps, I should model in the dresses and then put them up on the website. I make a mental note of the thought for later. It doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.
When I arrive back at Jenna’s dressing room, I see that a tuft of her hair has come loose from her veil. I stick a pin into Jenna’s hair to hold her curls in place. I smile reassuringly at her.
“You look stunning,” I tell Jenna.
When it’s about time, I escort the bride to the entrance where her family awaits her to accompany her inside the wedding hall. I take a long final look at the bride draped in white from her veil down to her heels. I smile at her in a manner of giving my best wishes and suddenly swell with pride that I could contribute to the biggest day of her life. Jenna stops me as I’m about to go and insists that I stay for the wedding, but I politely decline.
“I have a meeting that I need to attend,” I tell her. I don’t have any meetings, of course. It’s just that I’m not
very good around weddings. They make this gnawing feeling rise in my gut which I’m unable to overcome. So I keep away from weddings.
I walk to my car and get in. My hands are on the steering wheel, but I am unable to move. My thoughts trail back to the orange dress. I didn’t tell Jenna (or anyone else, for that matter) the story of that dress. How at the end of that date Michael spilled his drink over me in anger. How he came so close to almost hitting me. The memories flash in my head like a camera reel set in motion, releasing the floodgate of emotions that I am not prepared to acknowledge at the moment.
How can I still be so stuck in the same memories after five years? I wipe the tears that are falling on my cheeks and hold back the rest of them. I hate falling apart like this.
“Get a grip, Rose Maibach,” I say out loud and slap the steering wheel with both of my hands. My head slumps down to its own accord.
“Ma’am, do you need any help?” someone asks.
I raise my head to find a boy in a security guard’s uniform looking at me with concern on his face.
“No, thank you for asking. I’m quite alright.” I feign a smile to reassure him, but I can see it doesn’t convince him. He leaves me to my own devices, anyway. Good call.
I pull out of the parking lot, pushing away the thoughts of my broken relationship. My phone buzzes while I wait for the traffic light to turn green, and I check the notification to see who it is. I cannot believe my eyes once I read the name on the email.
Ashley Wang, designer at Regal.
“The Ashley Wang?” I scream out loud to myself, and it comes out more like a screech.
I calm my nerves enough to continue reading the email.
I cannot help but speak to myself out loud again. “Did Ashley Wang just invite me to present at the Regal fashion week in New York?”
