"You look perfect already. Stop fidgeting, Patrick," Cynthia scolded the doctor after he looked into the mirror for the nth time.
Patrick sighed. "It's just the scar. It still…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his face, the words refusing to come.
His family probably knew the story behind that scar, and would no doubt sneer at him for letting a werewolf get the best of him.
But Cynthia pressed a hand against his chest and said, "You should wear that scar as a badge of honor. You survived a werewolf attack. Not just any werewolf, but a cardinal alpha. How many people can say the same? Your family especially?"
Then, rising on her tiptoes, she kissed him briefly. "The world is yours tonight, my love. Own it."
A slow smile crossed Patrick's face. He reached out, offering his hand, and Cynthia placed hers over it with a faint blush.
"Well, thank you," she said softly.
Hand in hand, he led her to the living room where his family waited.
