✶☾ 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖞 𝖕 𝖘 𝖔 ☽✶

•☾ 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚 : 𝙖𝙘𝙦𝙪𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 ☽•

𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐞𝐭𝐡
•
(n.) a homesickness for a home you can't return to or that never was

•

The only thing bright about the bride that stared back at Calypso was the sunlight that shone on her face.

As promised, her father did in fact take care of all preparations. With a simple cotton dress, decently laced as it trailed behind her.

"Here" a maid, around her late fifties, Calypso guessed by the aging white streaks of her once black hair, softly instructed, handing over her bouquet. "Oh don't look so glum, hun! It's your wedding day, give me a smile!"

Her lips stretched at the command. But both of them knew there was nothing remotely joyous about this occasion. Fingers tightened at the stem. The doors to her dressing room opened to reveal another Omega. "The Alpha requires your presence immediately, it appears Alpha Lykaios has entered pack premises"

The muscles at her throat tightened as Calypso nodded. It is almost time. Escorted down a flight of stairs as they entered the chapel, in which her father stood at the entrance in a formal business suit.

After all, this is very much a contract proposal.

He turned around as Calypso approached him, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn she saw the eyes she shared widen in, what she hoped was, surprise.

"Calypso"  he greeted, eye wavering between her face and the back of the chapel. He paused for a minute. "Good. You're here."

She would be lying if she said her hope deflated just a little, a usually firm heart struck with disappointment.  Her eyes fell to her flowers as she quietly took her place beside her father.

"Alpha Lykaios will be here in around 15 minutes"  The information only added to Calypso's nerves.

"Yes, Alpha"

"You will address me as 'father' in front of the Lykaios pack members." Tristan Matthios demanded. " Remember, I'm presenting you as my daughter"

It took awhile for Calypso to comprehend what he said. "What?"

"Do you seriously want to Alpha Ares to see a daughter address her father as Alpha on her own wedding day?"

Her wolf had gotten up, fur spiked and rumbling with disappointment and deep, deep hatred. She knew they were thinking the same thing. How is it that the man that had been anything but a father since the day she was born, insists on being called that.

She pressed her lips together, reluctant to speak her mind.

"How can I call you; something you're not?"

"Excuse me?" His father retorted in disbelief, clearly not expecting the usually reserved she-wolf to talk back at him.

"You tell me to call you father" she turns towards him, "And yet, you've been absent my entire life"

"It is proper, and an act of etiquette!" He reasoned.

"When it should be a sign of love and respect" She snaps back.