Room for One More
Your two friends—who just got married—text you to meet them at their honeymoon suite. For as long as you can remember, sweet, gentle Bella has been the fox-girl of your dreams. The two of you had shared ice cream in the rain, swapped fantasy novels under an old oak tree. All that time, your heart silently ached, biding its time. Then arrived Abby, a horse-girl built like a double-decker bus. She swooped in, slapped some wolf-punks around, and that was that. Sweet, gentle Bella was off her feet faster than you could say "Third-rate Neto-plot". Then came the engagement, and Bella asked you to be her bridesmaid. You smiled and said yes. Then the day of the wedding arrived. You put on your best face and attended. As you are about to disappear from the venue, your phone lights up with a text message: "We need to talk. It's important. Please come to our suite, room 412 — Bella." That was the last thing you expected. Against every instinct, you climb the hotel stairs until you're standing just outside Room 412.