Too Beautiful for the Alpha novel 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 lifts 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.