Werewolf Compilations

Chapter 116

"Do you like this one more than the last one?"

I turn away from the mirror and shrug. "I don't know, Gail. They're all pretty, I just can't make up my

mind, I guess."

Gail picks up the next dress by the hanger and hands it to me, this time giving me a long, black dress

with a slit on the left side, covered by lace. I take it and shuffle into the bathroom, tired of looking at

myself in the mirror while I yank them on. Each time the bags under my eyes seem to grow darker and

I contemplate just picking a random one from the pile just so we can stop. "Where do all these dresses

even come from?" I ask through the door, pulling the dark fabric over my legs.

"James asked me to get you some things to try on for the party, so I did. Be glad that you have

options," she says as I come out, spinning around so she can zip me up. "I like this one."

"Good. Then I'll wear this one," I rush and make my way back to the bathroom to take it off, not needing

much of a glance in the mirror at all.

"We've got two more, Rae. Try them on just so you're sure."

I peer back at her and sigh. "I've tried on plenty. This one is my favorite."

She holds up the last two, one in each hand. "Are you sure?"

My eyes scan over the red, shorter one on the right then the silver, endless, simple one on the left. "I'm

sure. I want to wear black."

"Black can be a little sad, can't it?"

I take a closer look in the mirror, liking how it is long-sleeved and lacy and elegant. "I don't think it is. I

think it looks polished and clean." I dare say that I look pretty, mysterious and pretty. A small smile lifts

my cheeks and Gail sets down the last two.

"Alright. What shoes are you going to wear?" Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

My eyes drift to the closet and I grab my heels, the only pair I own, the short-heeled cream ones my

mother gave me. "These don't go, do they?"

Gail shakes her head. "What size shoe are you?"

I look at the sole of the shoe and read off, "an eight."

"I'll bring you something before you get ready, then. Remember, shower and dress and everything by

six. James should be home in an hour," she says as she leaves my room with the tried-on dresses

laying over her arms, "make sure he's on time, will you? Sometimes he believes he has enough time

when he doesn't."

"Okay, I will," I call and the door closes. I turn back to the black dress laid on my bed and run my hand

over it, feeling a bit more prepared and assured now. At least I'll look nice and not chest-less as I did in

my old gold dress. This feels as if I'm turning to a new page. It's time to attend a party like a leader and

not a drunk. I'll walk in with James, my Alpha, and I'll greet everyone who intimidates me with my chin

held high. It sounds like the right thing to do.

The past week—while everything has been put together for tonight—my mind has been drifting to

thoughts of panic and my eyes have been looking for an escape, but I have to remember that I am one

of them now, a leader. Alpha blood or not, I belong here and I'm not going to let anyone take that from

me. I'm sure I'll run into rude Luna's at the party, people who find me inadequate, and I know that I'll be

tested. It's good that I've prepared myself in the mirror, saying things like: "Oh, I'm not Alpha blood, but

the Moon Goddess brought us both here, didn't she?" And, "Yes, I know it's rare for a normal werewolf

to be mated to an Alpha, and it's also rare that she's Luna of one of the strongest packs, crazy right?"

And even, "Disrespect me one more time and your land will have my name written on it in blood."

Yes, I did get angry at my reflection for no reason at all, but I did hype myself up for tonight. Obviously,

everyone attending is an ally and I'm not going to start a war, but acting like a badass was amusing.

Part of me wants to wear a gun strapped to my thigh tonight just to carry that fiery feeling with me.

I've grown used to the happy version of myself, and I'm not going to let her go anytime soon.

As for James, he has been in Alpha-mode ever since his father left, taking charge of the rogue situation

and fixing it within a few days. After that he's been on some sort of mission to strengthen and sharpen

the guards, giving them longer and tougher training workouts, determined to never let another rogue

past our borders. He tells me that he thinks of my laying under a dead rogue whenever a guard

protests, and tells the guard of it, and that they get right back to work.

Ever since he's been all 'tough leader' he's also been very open with his 'cravings' for me as he puts it,

and I think his animalistic side is getting to his head. But I can't lie and say that it doesn't make me

weak in the knees.