Violets and Ash

Chapter 8

"I suppose that leaves us with one last question. Is this something you can handle, Violet?"

"The Cedar Grove Pack has never been my home, and I'm never going back." I dropped my twinkling smile and let her see how serious I truly was. They'd sooner find me packing a bag in the middle of the night than willingly stepping back into that claustrophobic nightmare.

"Good, then on that note if you could open the bag in your hands, please."

As it turns out, I'd been wrong. The lacey bra within the boutique bag was my first official test.

"I had my assistant pick it out. She's an expert with this sort of thing. One look at you and that scrap of polyester you wear, and she knew your size. Elijah should be charged with neglect for allowing you to wear it a day longer, but as intelligent as the man is he truly is horrible with children—and even worse with teenage girls, it seems." Sylvia waved a hand dismissively, like having her assistant rummage through my clothes was normal. "As comfortable as it may be, it's the reason your shirt isn't fitting correctly. If you'd allow me, I can help with the rest of your uniform as well."

I couldn't say no, even if I wanted to.

It was more than awkward to have Sylvia's hands on me, tugging and tucking fabric while also doing her best not to leave me uncovered in any areas. Her fingers grazed the scar on my shoulder when she went to untwist one of the slender bra straps making me jump a foot off the floor.

"Apologies, cold hands are a curse all doctors and scientists must endure." She tutted under her breath.

It felt strange to say the least. After tearing off my sports-bra and changing into the padded masterpiece Sylvia's assistant picked out, I realized how horribly stretched my old one had become. I knew very little about actual bra sizes, but the C cups seemed to make my chest look larger and my cleavage more pronounced.

Sylvia purposefully left the top three buttons undone, and while I didn't mind the glimpse of skin, it peeked at something more. The jagged scar across my chest was by far my worst, raised and pink even though the others were now flush against my skin.

She stepped back and eyed me from head to toe.

"There you are...a proper student at Darkling University." Her smile was genuine and laced with warmth that filled my veins with a lingering sense of confidence. The feeling was short-lived when she said, "...now all you have to do is survive the other students and you'll be well on your way to a life of success."

"I'm sure I'll be alright. I already love it here. There's so much sunlight and flowers...I never knew how beautiful nature could be when it's not covered in feet of ice and snow." I gushed, threading confidence into my voice.

The last thing I expected was Sylvia's dry but amused laugh.

"That's because you've yet to meet the Vanderbilt's. That family is this pack's equivalent to feet of ice and snow." She commented with a short shake of the head, her expression full of mirth. "I'll admit they've run me out of town a time or two, only I have the luxury of calling them 'business trips.'"

From the way she scoffed to the irritated wave of her hand, I gathered the Vanderbilt's—whoever they may be, weren't fans of Sylvia. Against my better judgement, I felt compelled to ask. "Who are the Vanderbilts?"

She lifted a sculpted eyebrow at me and scanned my face with her eyes before replying.

"I'm trusting you won't repeat this—not that anyone would believe your word over my own I'm afraid. The Vanderbilt's are one of the many families here descended from the original pack, and Imani Vanderbilt is the loveliest of them all."