"Absolutely not."
I stared at the dress Elder Thomas had laid out—a traditional pack mating gown that looked like it belonged in a medieval reenactment. Long sleeves, high neck, layers of heavy fabric in cream and gold.
"It's been worn by mated females in this pack for over a century," Thomas said patiently. "Your grandmother wore this. Your great-grandmother before her."
"It's beautiful," I said carefully. "But it's not me."
Thomas studied me for a moment. "What would be you?"
I pulled out my phone, showing him photos I'd saved. Simple dresses, flowing fabric, something that honored tradition without drowning me in it. "Something that lets me move. That feels like me, not a costume."
"The ceremony is about tradition—"
"And about us," Skyler interrupted. "You said we should honor tr
