Page 122 of Perfectly Naïve
When my mother raps her knuckles on the door again, I sigh. “I’ll be down soon. I just need to get dressed.”
She mutters something aboutungrateful daughtersandalways an embarrassment. Each word is another nail in the coffin of our relationship. They cut through me, flaying me down to the bone, but I do my best to ignore her.
The dress she’s laid out for me is slinky, low-cut, and tight. She’s really going all out, trying to sell me off to some rich pack, isn’t she? My nose wrinkles when I hold it up. Nothing about this dress isme, and for a moment, I debate putting Liam’s hoodie back on and risking my mother’s wrath. I’d rather not suffer the acute embarrassment that would follow a petty rebellion like that.
“Last time,” I tell myself. “This is the last time you ever have to do something like this. Henry is here. His pack is here. Verity is here. Put on the dress and get this over with. You’ll go downstairs, shake hands with the rich boys who are probably just as thrilled about this situation as you are, tell them you’re not interested, and call it a night. No big deal.”
Trembling with sadness and anger, I somehow manage to wiggle into the tight pink dress and tug up the zipper that’s hidden in the side seam. I turn to the mirror to give myself a quick once-over and stop dead in my tracks. My vision tunnels, and ringing fills my ears.
The dress fits me like a glove, and even I can admit that, if it was a different color, I may not hate it. But the problem lies with the neckline. Because the dress has thin straps and dips low in the front to show off my cleavage...and my necklace of mate marks. Mate marks that, in any other situation, would bring me an intense amount of joy and satisfaction.
“Well, this just became much more complicated.” I allowmyself a minute to admire my fresh marks, letting my fingertips trace the healing wounds that proclaim to the world that I’m mated. Claimed. Completely unavailable.
My mother is going to lose her mind.
The sound of male voices draws me out of my stupor. Not my mates. Men my mother would love to force on me. The idea of it makes bile flood my mouth. I don’t want to play these games. Even going along with this farce somehow feels like I’m betraying the men I love, but I don’t know what else to do. I need Henry’s help. I need a way out. And I won’t be able to stall much longer.
Heart pounding, I fling open my closet door, rifling through the racks until I find a wrap sweater with a neckline that can either be folded over the shoulder or flipped up to wrap around your neck. It’s a dark gray, and it doesn’t really go with the dress, but it will have to do. Especially when I hear a sharp series of knocks and a hissed “Olivia” through my door.
I take a few deep breaths and wait for my mother to go back downstairs before I survey my room one final time and walk out to face the firing squad.
I wish my mates were here.
My heart rate increases with every step, breath coming fast as I descend, inching closer and closer to those voices that don’t belong to my pack. Sweat forms along my hairline, and every muscle in my body trembles with the urge to run. To flee and never come back.
Confronting my mother is worse than enduring this dinner, so as much as I’ll hate every second, the logical course of action is to endure it.
I can get through this dinner. It will be fine.
“I apologize for my daughter,” I hear my mother say in a simpering tone. “But you know how omegas are. We love to make an entrance, especially where alphas are concerned.”
“Mother, can I speak to you for a minute?” Henry’s voice is hard. He doesn’t know the guys and I have mated, but he does know I’m happy with them. That I have no intention of entertaining these strange alphas. I’m sure he wants to talk my mother out of this.
“Not now, Henry.”
“It’s important. I don’t think this is a good idea. You don’t understand what?—”
“That’s enough, Henry,” she snaps. “Please go find your sister and hurry her along.”
My brother grumbles something unintelligible before storming out of the dining room. He stops short when he sees me standing there, eyes wide, fingers holding tight to the wrap sweater concealing my mate marks.
“Liv. Shit. Did you know she was planning this?” He inches closer, looking around to make sure no one will overhear us when he whispers, “You’re still with Sawyer’s pack, right?”
Despite the stress of the situation—or maybe because of it—I can’t hold back a slightly unhinged stress giggle that has Henry eyeing me speculatively. And when tears pool in my eyes, his attention sharpens. I want to tell him everything.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am still with Pack Flynn, and no, I didn’t know about this dinner. I only came home to pack my things. I’m moving in with the guys.” Reaching out, I grab Henry’s hand and squeeze. “Henry, I have to tell you. The other day, we?—”
“There you are,” my mother says loudly. It startles me so badly, my heart skips a beat before racing, and I let out a squeak and jump, nearly losing my footing and falling. Luckily, Henry catches me.
Four men in suits stand at my mother’s back, studying me. They’re not unattractive, but they’re not my mates, and there’s a calculating look in each of their gazes I don’t appreciate.They’re sizing me up, the same way my mother always has, to see if I’m good enough. If I fit their image. If I’m worth their time.
Well, it doesn’t matter what they think. They’re not worth mine.
“Gentlemen, please let me introduce my daughter, Olivia.” Mom offers the alphas a bright smile, though it doesn’t completely hide the twitch of annoyance in the corners of her eyes. “Olivia, meet Pack Whittier. This is Elliot, Brandon, Jeremiah, and Chase.”
The alphas all nod, offering subduedhellos. My mother clears her throat when I don’t do or say anything to greet them in return. Henry, the traitor, has the nerve to chuckle when I awkwardly lift a hand and wave.
I need to get out of here.
