The fact that she was getting married, didn't scare her like it had the first time around, it also didn't sink in until she was in a cream colored dress and alone . . . that's when she started to panic. She wanted to marry Marc, she loved him . . . but she was scared. She couldn't help but choke on a laugh at that thought, she could kick a tom's ass that was three times her size but she couldn't say a few words.
She walked over to the mirror, and stared at herself. She looked beautiful, her hair was down, hanging in brown ringlets just past her shoulder, her dress was simple and sleeveless, not too poufy not to mention it had pockets, much to her mother's annoyance, she wore low slung blue heels on her feet and a veil was firmly in place on her head, she had the makings of a beautiful bride. Sure her scars were still visible, but those were what made her . . . her. They told a story . . . her story.
Yet something was still missing, something she wouldn't and couldn't get. A picture of her and her dad the day she had become an enforcer had found a permanent home on her dresser. The picture reminded her of the oath she had taken when she had become an Alpha, of everything she wanted to be, it also gave her a small comfort, him being the first thing she saw when she woke up and the last thing she saw before she went to sleep. She missed him, and this year without him had been hard . . . on everyone. That sadness and hurt amplified at times when she thought about everything he was going to miss, the one at hand walking her down the aisle. She would be making that walk alone with the exception of a handful of flowers.
A knock on her door brought her out of her musings as it creaked open to reveal Bert DiCarlo. She smiled at him. Along with her uncle Bert had become one her trainers and advisers on being an Alpha, as well as a good friend.
He smiled "I've been sent to fetch you and may I say you look beautiful."
Faythe looked him straight in the eye and without hesitation said "I'm terrified."
Bert laughed and sat down on her bed "That's normal, I was nervous before I married Carla." Faythe walked over to the bed and sat down next to him, her dress swishing as she went. Bert's eyes traveled around the room while they sat in silence until they stopped. Faythe followed his eyes to the picture of the tabbies taken the summer she was eighteen. She could guess the thoughts running through the man's head, about Sara, if Faythe had to guess they were along the same line as hers were about her dad.
Taking Bert's hand she asked him a question, one that would hopefully bring them both some peace "Bert, would you walk me down the aisle?"
His smile was the only answer she needed before standing and grabbing her bouquet. Bert stood as well and offered the crook of his arm. No words were said as they walked out of the house and to the backyard where a tent was set up for the wedding. The duo stopped quickly at tree where her father and brothers were buried, she knew her father would approve, and then hurried to the tent. Holly, Abby and Kaci had already made their way down the aisle. As the wedding march started she gripped Bert's arm a little tighter, and he placed his opposite hand over hers and they entered in through the tent flaps. Smiles lit up everyone's face; her mother and Carla DiCarlo both started crying, Vic, Marc's best man looked close to tears and mouthed the words thank you and Marc well he just looked gorgeous like always and with that all the nerves left her. She was ready to start the next chapter of her life.