ARIA’S POV:
”I was told you wanted a cape dress,” the man at the design store wasn’t as nice.
He already knew we were the only ones we were expecting, so he didn’t spare us a glance when we walked in.
“Actually…there’ll be no need for that anymore,” my response forced his head to turn around.
I was supposed to be glad I got him to look away from the rack of white fabrics he had his gaze buried in, but he shot a death stare at me, fear gripped me.
“Well, that’s a last minute save,” he rolled his eyes.
His attitude was quite saucy, especially for a man that looked well into his thirties.
“Now that you have some sense of style…I hope…” he lowered his voice with the latter part.
“Maybe we can talk designs,”
I turned to Nicolle, questioning with my gaze if she couldn’t see the way he was acting, or hear his choice of words.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mouthed.
The man moved over to another side of his really big fashion house.
“Are you coming?” He yelled, like we were supposed to know what to do.
“He only has respect for Alpha Draven and despite the repeated complaints about his attitude, Alpha Draven keeps him because he’s exceptionally good at what he does,” Nicolle whispered to me as we tried to catch up with him.
“Of course, Draven would be fascinated by someone like him,” I rolled my eyes.
I only had to get through today and I had to keep reminding myself.
“Oh my goodness!” I exclaimed, when we got to the segment he was at.
There were fifteen glass compartments with mannequins my size, wearing different wedding dresses.
Upon entrance, the view was breathtaking.
The style was precisely exceptional–nothing like I had ever seen before.
“I want this,” I placed my hand on the glass of a long sleeve dress that flowed down.
I quickly pulled my hand away.
“Okay?
If it wasn’t an option, why is it here?” I probed,”To see your style, and believe me, I am not liking it much,” he replied.
At this point, I could no longer take it.
I snapped.
“Well, guess what? I am not liking you at all too, so I guess that checks out. If you have something you have in mind for me to wear, as I suppose you do, bring it and let’s get this over with. The longer I have to see your face, or deal with your attitude, the sicker I feel.”
Nicolle had her hands over her mouth, which I picked from her reflection on one of the glasses.
The designer was quiet.
His face was black.
The silence in the room was deafening for the first seven seconds and I was beginning to think that just maybe, I had crossed a boundary.
“Very well then,” he finally said, “I’d need to make a few tweaks to the dress. It’d be ready for use before the ceremony.” I was shocked by how calm he was, but since it was clear I had a grip, I tried not to lose it.
“Good,” I said firmly.
“I’d deliver the dress myself.” He said, “you may leave. You can’t afford to fall sick today. I wouldn’t want my face to be the reason that happens.” His words caused me a little guilt, but I nodded, held down the fort and walked out of the fashion house with Nicolle following behind me.
“You humbled him,” Nicolle was squealing when we walked out.
“I have never seen James that calm with anyone.
Of course, Alpha Draven, but you held it down!”
”Why do you sound like I received a trophy?” I rolled my eyes, trying to make light of what had just happened–like my heart wasn’t beating fast, or like I couldn’t remember the death stare he shot at me.
“This might be more than a trophy,” I smiled lightly.
“Let’s hope he doesn’t sabotage my dress,”
I felt proud.
My head held high.
I felt ready for the world.
As someone who had been bullied and reduced to nothing for the most of my adult life, this victory felt really big.
“Where’s our next stop?” I probed, remembering Ragner’s words– “it was wedding day!”
Every beauty house in the pack was within half a kilometer radius from the fashion house, but there was one that stood out, the biggest one with glass walls and it was no surprise we walked right into it.
“Good morning, Luna,” a young lady, about my age or younger met us at the entrance.
“It really has been a good morning,” I raised my eyes to the clock and realized there was only an hour left until the end of the morning.
“Please sit,” the services began as soon as I walked into the building.
Her hair was receiving the most soothing, warm wash as soon as I sat.
Unlike the fashion house, this was peaceful and relaxing.
The young lady was only very few steps short of worshipping me.
“Is there a reason there is only one person in every room we walk into?” I asked Nicolle, when the lady moved away to get a hair oil she described as ‘special’.
“You’re Luna and it’s your wedding day.
A lot of people can’t see you before the unveiling.”
”What unveiling?” I probed.
“It’s part of the ceremony rituals.” Nicolle responded like it was something light, but I was quite disturbed.
It took two hours to have my hair in a messy bun behind my head with four strands of curly hair hanging in front–two to each side.
My hair was adorned with shiny red and white ornaments and when I looked into the mirror, it was beginning to look like a ceremony day.
My excitement started to build up and nothing prepared me for how fast everything was going to come crashing.
I never would have thought or imagined.