Alpha Vaughan

Chapter 21

"I think... I think this is the dress," Nayla whispered reverently.

A resigned breath escaped me. "You've thought about ten dresses 'were the dress,' Nayla."

She pursed her lips. Then said with a wave of her hand towards my direction. "No, but I'm sure this one is. It's simple, elegant and just...perfect."

Removing my hands from my waist where I'd kept them in exasperation, I took in myself before the full length mirror, agreeing to her statement after a while, "It is perfect." The skirts of the simple blue evening gown fell down to the floors in a pool of fine, watery silk. The strapless gown--that looked demure from the front--had an open back that stretched down to my waist. Wicked.

I took it off, letting Nayla do my makeup and style my hair. She talked as she worked, "Goddess, this is really exciting! I wonder how you must feel right now. Oh what I would give to be in your shoes right now--but whatever it is, I'm sure a lot of shewolves would've given in greater amounts. Because, I mean, it's Alpha Vaughan. He's only the richest, most powerful, and hottest werewolf in existence!"

Despite the fact she was powdering the area around my mouth at the moment, I couldn't resist mumbling. "I doubt that."

She powdered my mouth directly. Sputtering, I spat out make up, glaring, "Hey, you did that on purpose."

Giggling, she exchanged the brush. "Yes."

My eyes narrowed. But then I soon smiled. She'd grown a lot more comfortable around me lately, now if only she'd stop calling me Miss...

"Miss, are you sure"--she leaned in conspirationally, lowering her voice--"you would still be able to escape tonight. I have the weapons here with me."

From the large pockets of her slate grey gown, she withdrew a dagger and a loaded pistol. I took them, feeling gratitude spread through me. I stood to go put it away somewhere safe. When I got back to the stool, I said quietly, "Thank you. How did you manage to get them?"

"The dagger was a gift from my aunt. She'd said it was passed down to her from her mother, who'd gotten it from her own mother, who had also gotten it from her own mother--she was among the omegas that had been given to the then Alpha of the Beastclaw pack, as a gift from the alpha of southeast Asia."

I blinked. "So what you're saying is that... I have. . . You have given me your family heirloom?"

At the disbelieving look on my face, Nayla chuckled. "Yes, and I want you to have it."

"Gee. Who the hell's cutting onions in here?" As she laughed, I turned away, furtively blinking back tears.

She came around to apply eye-shadow on my lids. "As for the pistol, I stole"--she cleared her throat--"borrowed it from one of the pack's warriors."

"Mm," I mumbled in approval.

Silence reigned for a while.

"Miss," Nayla called in grave tone. "You do know you're not going to come back here as quietly as you're going to leave. Within moments after you're gone, the guards are going to sound an alarm, and after taking account of all the werewolves in the pack, they'd realize you're the one missing and notify the Alpha."

As she spoke, I felt apprehension slither through me. I soon felt angry at myself; Eunice was in danger and all I could think about was how Vaughan would react to me running away.

"They'd know the first place to look for me," I said. "And I can only hope before they get there, I'd be on my way to the next place the rogue would direct me to. Wherever that'd be."

I felt Nayla nod above me. "What if...what if this all turns out to be a trap?"

What if it doesn't.

I said nothing, remaining quiet.

                          __

 
Nayla drew back to survey me. "You look like a princess--which you are, because by being a Luna you're practically as good as one."

I smiled widely, checking myself out in the mirror.

Randomly winking at my image, I followed behind Nayla as she led me out the room.

When we'd gotten outside, cool air caressed my skin. The bright moonlight illuminated our paths as we went on to the east gardens. When we came across a straight, barren route charting through the vegetation, she turned to me, saying, "Follow the way to your heart." My heart supposedly being Vaughan; ironic.

After one last warm smile, she turned away and left.

Left on my own devices now, I picked up my dress, walking along the clear route. The cool air winded through the forests on either side of my path, rustling leaves and flower bushes. The sound of badgers scrambling and birds chirping melodiously filled the atmosphere, and the night suddenly grew dreamy, pulsing with something akin to magic.

Bursting into a wide clearing, I felt my breath hitch.

A short distance before a glittering blue waterfall cascading down a cliff, a table for two had been arranged. Tall vases filled with flowers lined the length of it, surrounded by long glass flutes and silverware dishes. Around, hanging down the trees, were glowing lanterns illuminating the area. I was briefly reminded of the Festival of Lanterns.

Vaughan drew away from the table, and approached me.

I couldn't help but ogle him. Dressed in a smart, expensive looking black suit, he radiated power and charisma. When he drew level with me, the smell of him, cinnamon and leather engulfed me, hypnotizing me.

His deep baritone sounded above me. "You look beautiful, Hilda." His sharp grey eyes still expressionless, he placed a palm at the small of my back.

When his skin made contact with mine, my body lit up, and an intense expression pierced through the emotionless mask of his face.

When we sat, a man dressed as a waiter approached us. "What would you like to drink?"

Vaughan ordered for a bottle of vodka, I'd said I was okay with Martini.

When he left, I turned towards the waterfall, observing the magnificent cascades distractedly, because I couldn't put the fact Vaughan was watching me all the while at the back of my mind. My fingers started to drum on the table lightly and nervously.

When he spoke, I immediately turned to him.

"Majority of the time I've seen you in a dress, it's always blue. Is that your favorite colour?"

Feeling a little flustered at his open attention, I replied with an awkward shrug, "Yeah, I guess."

He echoed under his breath, "You guess..." Then he slowly leaned in. "I would think your personal omega decides what dresses you wear. Is that how it is with you, you always get things decided for you, you never have a say over what happens in your life. If that is the case, I'd like to know who controls it, your dad?"

I had a dumbstruck moment where I wondered how he'd arrived at that conclusion. "My dad doesn't control my life," I said.

"Then who does?"

Just short of snapping, I said, "No one. And no one ever will," I added with meaning, looking him in the eye.

He drew back, reclining in his chair. His relaxed position was a large contrast to his piercing gaze. "I want to know why you tried to run away, and from who."

"I want to know why you got cursed," I threw back.

He kept silent, allowing me some respite. My relief was shortlieved though, because he asked his next question: and my world came to a sharp halt.