The venue dispute, when it finally came to a head, had nothing to do with Thessaly or the Ember Court at all, and everything to do with Elena's great-aunt Ophelia, who arrived at the pack house four months before the wedding date with a list of grievances long enough that Marta took to calling it, privately, the Scroll of Doom."A vampire wedding," Ophelia said, for what had to be the fifth time that afternoon, settled at the kitchen table with the particular immovable dignity of a woman who'd outlived three husbands and considered herself an authority on every subject that mattered. "In my day, a Voss girl marrying outside the pack would have been unthinkable. Marrying a vampire, doubly so.""Times have changed, Aunt Ophelia.""Times have changed recklessly, is what I'd call it, though I notice nobody asked my opinion before the whole territory decided to celebrate it." Ophelia sniffed, though Elena caught, beneath the theatrical disapproval, something that looked suspiciously like g
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