THE THIRD MATING
LYRA:
I stood in front of the big mirror in my room. The white dress felt soft against my skin. It was long and flowed like water. Tiny silver beads sparkled when I moved.
Mira, my little twin sister, climbed on a stool so she could reach my waist. She tied a blue ribbon carefully. Her small fingers worked fast. She giggled. “You look like a fairy queen, Lyra!”
Mary, the one who resigned after being my personal guide when I first arrived at the Moonshadow pack, stood behind me. She pinned white flowers into my hair one by one. She smiled big. “You are the prettiest bride today,” she said softly.