Page 39 of Knot What She Seems
But when I turn around, however, my etiquette teacher has a huge grin on her face. She steps forward to straighten the thin straps of my dress, humming in contentment.
“Don’t you look beautiful?”
“Um…” I toss Harper another look. Her cheeks are almost as red as mine as she shrugs helplessly, also having no idea what the fuck is happening.
“Harper!” Madam Ellora steps away and snaps her fingers. The petite omega immediately hurries forward. “Can you do Miss Brylee’s hair and makeup for me?”
Harper’s eyes widen in surprise…while mine narrow in suspicion. “Yes. Of course.”
“Perfect.” Madam Ellora lifts her chin imperiously and then stalks out of the room. “Meet me in the foyer in exactly forty minutes.”
Harper appears as if she wants to protest—I’ve seen the omega do her own hair, and it takes her at least an hour and a half—but Madam Ellora breezes away before Harper can get a word out.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” I ask as Harper leads me to the vanity.
I sit, and my friend immediately reaches for my comb.
“No idea.” Harper shakes her head warily. “All I know is Madam Ellora stormed into my room and demanded I help you get ready.” She painstakingly runs the brush through my wet hair, the color appearing more brown than blonde at the moment.
I purse my lips together. “I don’t like the sound of this.”
Harper gives my shoulder a squeeze. “It’s probably just another one of their stupid tests.”
I’ve never heard Harper refer to anything at Darling Academy as “stupid” before. I can’t help but chuckle.
“Probably.”
The two of us sit in companionable silence as Harper weaves my hair into an elaborate series of braids and then paints my face. When she’s finally done, apparently satisfied with her work, I hardly recognize myself.
I’ve always been considered pretty, but just now, staring at myself in the mirror, I feel…beautiful. The blush highlights my cheekbones and provides much needed color to a face I once considered pale and sickly, especially after my morning jog. My golden locks have been dried and hang half-up, half-down, all of the braids woven together to create an intricate bun. I normally wear mascara, eyeliner, and a little bit of lip gloss, but the final product has never turned out likethis. I look mysterious and sexy, with smoky eyes and plump red lips.
I only have time to give a quick thanks to Harper before I’m hustled out of my dorm, down the stairs, and into the foyer.
Darling Academy was once a castle, and though it’s been updated and added onto, the castle and all its features are still the most prominent part of the school. There’s a drawing room, dining room, foyer, and even a kitchen. Most of the rooms have been converted into classrooms, but the foyer remains, the white tiles polished so meticulously I can see my reflection in the surface, and the three-tiered chandelier dangles overhead, providing much needed light to the dreary space.
I spot Madam Ellora instantly, her back turned to me. It’s only when I step completely into the room do I realize she’s not alone.
Three men surround her, alpha energy practically radiating off of them in tangible waves. The force of it makes me stagger back a step, my stomach muscles tightening. Fear jolts through me, cold as ice water.
All three of them are handsome, I suppose. The tallest and broadest has bronze hair that frames a rather boyish face. Next to him stands a man with white-blond hair, glasses, and a timid smile. Behind the two is a dark-skinned Apollo, his biceps rippling as he crosses his arms, his firm lips pressed in a straight line.
Logically, I know that the three of them aren’t the alphas who destroyed me. Iknowthat. My brain knows that. My heart knows that.
But my body? It doesn’t seem to get the memo.
Fear holds me immobile, and icy terror trickles through my veins.
All three alphas seem to notice me at the same time. The tallest man smiles, though it gradually begins to dim at whatever expression he sees on my face. The blond-haired man frowns. Only the dark-skinned alpha remains impassive, the only sign of his unease the slightest tightening of his jaw.
Madam Ellora spins on her heel, a wide, beatific smile on her wrinkled face.
“Ah! There she is! Brylee. Come here, dear!”
I don’t want to take a step closer. Don’t want to move.
Every instinct in my body is screaming at me to run.
However, I force myself to take a deep breath and then tentatively join Madam Ellora. She places an arm around my waist in a grandmotherly half-hug.
