Too Beautiful for the Alpha

Chapter 33

"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 liftsNôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

my cheeks and Gail sets down the last two.

"Alright. What shoes are you going to wear?"

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 bad ass 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.

After I shower and wash my face and dry my hair, I head out into my bedroom with my robe wrapped

cozily around me, in search for my minuscule amount of makeup. Really, it's not used enough to be

considered mine, and I'm sure all of it was taken from my mother before she could even use it herself. I

find the small, blue pouch tucked on a shelf in the closet, and I bring it back to the bathroom, dumping

its holdings out on the counter. There's an unopened tube of mascara, a hardly-used compact of blush,

a compact of powder, and a fresh tube of a nude beigey-pink lipstick named Rosaleen.

Intrigued by the lipstick, I carefully coat some on my lips and stand back in the mirror to get a good

look. "That's nice," I murmur and click the lid back on the tube.

My hand then reaches for the mascara, twisting it open and holding up the black, spiked end to my eye.

I hold my breath as I steadily run it through my lashes, darkening them and making them a tad longer.

"That's nice too," I murmur again and peer down at the two compacts. I grab the powder and open it

up, the shade light and brightening. With the puff underneath the powder, I tap it into the product and

think logically. To brighten would make the spot seem larger and to darken would make it smaller, so I

dab some under my eyes and on my cheekbones, and I stand back again.

I think it did something. If anything, it made my under-eyes less dark and look more awake, so I'm

going to take this as a success. Finding the blush somewhat intimidating with its deep pink color, I dab

some of the lipstick on my cheeks instead and blend it with my finger.

I let my hair down and run my fingers through it, feeling my heart beating faster from excitement to put

on the dress. I can't wait for James to see me.

The dress lays in its spot on the bed, and I slip on my nice underwear before abandoning my robe for

the dark, soft fabric. I manage to zip it up halfway myself before seeking help from someone in the

house. My bare feet pad against the wood floors and I call down the steps, "Gail? Theresa?"

After hearing no reply, I turn to James' doors to see a thin strip of light at the bottom. I wanted to wait

until I had my shoes and everything, but I suppose I'll have to reveal myself now. Actually, thinking back

to Gail's words earlier, I am supposed to make sure James is on time, so I hurry and knock twice,

calling, "James, are you getting ready? I need you to zip me."

He calls back, "Come in," so I do. I wander inside to find clothes on the bed and the bathroom light on.

He emerges half-dressed, his hair still damp. "Look at you," he breathes out, nearing me and I can't

help but smile. "You look gorgeous, absolutely breathtaking."

I turn around, showing him the unzipped zipper. "Thank you."

A warmth fills me, but instead of feeling the zipper move up, I feel James' hands sneaking through,

feeling his fingers against my skin. "James," I warn, "you have to get ready. We're leaving in twenty

minutes."

He sighs and zips up the dress, leaving a kiss on my neck as he does so, specifically on his mark. He

turns me around and gives me a quick, firm kiss before letting go and grabbing his shirt from the bed. I

stand with a flushed face as he slips on and buttons up the shirt, watching him for a moment before

descending back to reality. "I'm going to go and wait for Gail. I'll meet you downstairs."

I wish my mother could see me like this, acting as a Luna and dressed as one too. I told her of the

party over the phone last night, and she said to have a good time and that she wishes she could be

there. After she said that I realized this party will be cluttered with important people, but not my family.

Of course James will be there, but not my mother or my father.

I don't want to think about it too much because I am enjoying my excitement over the party, and I don't

want to switch to disappointment last minute. I'm sure everything will be wonderful anyway, and I don't

want to mope after so much work has been put into the event.

Gail arrives back with ten minutes left and she hands me a pair of black heels. There's a thin strap at

the top that wraps around my ankle, and as I secure the tiny buckles, I find that it looks delicate. "Thank

you, they're perfect," I say, looking up at her. "Where did you get them?"

"They were James' mothers."

I stop. "Really?"

"Yes. I saw them in storage a few weeks ago and thought they were beautiful. It's just a coincidence

that you're the same size."

"Well, they're lovely," I say, not overthinking it. "I'm glad you remembered them."

James comes downstairs and when I see him all dressed up, it reminds me of when I first laid eyes on

him. He grabs my hand and Gail wishes us luck before we head out the door. Together we walk down

the pathway towards the center of the pack, where the ballroom is. It's quiet outside for where we are,

and moonlight drips from branch to branch before pooling at our feet, lighting the way. With our arms

linked, I rest my head against his shoulder.

"Thank you for doing all of this," I say softly, my voice matching the gentle hum of nature around us.

"We aren't even there yet," James says, leading me through the trees.

"I know it's going to be great anyway."

He looks down at me and I smile, enjoying his warmth. As we walk along, I wonder if a girl will come

stumbling from behind a tree as I did, lost, discouraged, and confused. I already know what I would say

to her: Yes, you are mated to an Alpha, and no, you are nothing like Julianna.

She won't understand the second part until much later, though.