Alpha's Winter Promise

Episode 15 - Dresses! - Olivia's POV

When I woke up, I found myself in the infirmary. I was told that Daddy carried me there from the lake. I was also told that Abby had swam back to my side when she saw something was wrong. She kept me from slipping further into the water even though it cost her the race.

I was directed to rest, so I was excused from social engagements the until the Grand Ball this evening.

At least that's what I was directed to do.

I am in my room back at the estate, sitting in the window seat and enjoying the morning sun. I'm reading a particularly spicy chapter of the romance novel and sipping a cup of coffee. There's a knock at my door and I have zero time to answer before it busts open.

“Oops! That was harder than I thought it would be! My bad, my bad….”. An EF-Abby scale tornado has just entered my space. She's sporting yoga pants, an oversized sweatshirt with a starwars graphic, and what appears to be a gallon size frappecino topped with whipped cream. She plants herself in the middle of the room and declares, “Livie, we have an emergency.”

She had been in and out of the infirmary room checking on me yesterday and I discovered that trying to correct her to use Olivia instead of Livie was a losing battle.

Abby is charming in her own way I have to admit. Plus, Mother absolutely finds her abhorrent in every way imaginable so I'm dancing with rebellion by associating with her. She can't really put up too much a fuss though since we are guests in her mate's home. Her home, I mentally correct myself. She lives here now too.

“Abigail, I cannot possibly fathom what could constitute an emergency at 9 am.”.

She throws herself on my bed dramatically, holding the drink aloft so it does not spill. “Save me Obi-wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope!” I wait for her to continue. She sits up and takes a long draw of her frappecino before speaking. “Dresses.”

“Dresses?”

“Dresses, Livie, dresses. You have to help me. I have no idea what I should wear tonight and this is totally your thing right? You look like a goddess every day and….well, I don't. Not that I care usually, comfort IS style in my books, but this is a GRAND BALL….”

She's not wrong. It is the likely to be the most formal event of the entire year.

“I know you are supposed to be resting….you can just sit in a chair, put your feet up, let me try some things on and maybe give me some advice?” She turns her puppy-dog eyes on me.

“Oh fine. I suppose I do owe you one for fishing me out of the lake.”. She starts to speak….”and no, I don't want to talk about it.”. She had told me a hundred times yesterday that if I wanted to talk to her about anything she would be happy to listen.

I wasn't prepared to be vulnerable with anyone yet. I'd never really had friends other than Simon and I didn't expect to get adopted by his mate.

She cheers. Literally pumps her fist in the air and leads me through the maze of a building to the Luna’s Suite.

Call it old fashioned but that's just how things had been done historically in families as old as ours. The Luna and Alpha had adjoining suites to allow for some sense of privacy while dressing. I knew Simon's mother and knew before stepping into the space that it was immaculately decorated.

There's a grinding noise coming from the other room. Abby has bounded ahead and was dragging a large chair closer to the wardrobes for me. A rather frantic maid looked on, trying to get Abby to let her move the chair…. I chuckled. That poor maid probably spent a lot of time trying to get Abby to let her do her job.

Once she's happy with the position, I seat myself and prop my feet up on the plush ottoman.

“Go on then. Let me see what you have.”

The first dress is a boxy beaded number in navy blue.

“No. Next.”

Abby returns a few minutes later with a not-quite-rose pink chiffon….thing….that does nothing for her coloring.

“No, you look like an unhappy cloud”

It's just no, no, no, no, no…until even I'm perplexed. I stand and go over the wardrobes myself. I flip through ten, fifteen, twenty dresses.

“Abigail, why do you only have dresses for middle aged mother of the brides?... Shoulder pads, boxy, boxy, boxy WITH shoulder pads, cloud of chiffon in vomit yellow….Did you pick them out?”

She nods sadly. “I went to the department store and just grabbed anything that looked like it might be my size.”

“This absolutely will not do.”. I pull my phone out of my pocket and make a call. “Yes, Fleur, this is Olivia Grimsleigh. I have a situation that needs to be resolved before 7pm this evening….. Abigail, you're what, a 16 or 18….yes, Fleur…we need a selection of gowns for the new Luna of Golden Twilight Pack…she's approximately 5’5, size 16 to 18, curvy…I'm thinking jewel tones, something trendy but timeless. Mhmm, we will also need accessories, shoes, the works…..I might also want to change up my dress so if you could bring a few additional options for me that would be nice.”.

I hit the end button after providing directions to the estate. Abby has her mouth wide open.

“What did you just do???”.

I'm smug as I make myself comfortable again. “Just a little bit of rich girl magic. Just you wait and see.”

In the hour and a half that passes, I attempted fruitlessly to continue reading. And although it looks like I'm flipping pages, it’s hard to focus on reading when Abby is sprawled across a settee talking at warp speed. I learned that both her parents were warriors and that she’d trained in combat also from the time she could walk. I learned that she’s never had any sort of etiquette classes, or had to do public speaking, or had maids and butlers.

There is a part of me that is fascinated by all this. She is everything that I am not, yet somehow, the Goddess has placed her as the Luna of a pack even more prestigious than my own. She knows nothing about being a Luna, nothing about leading, nothing about politics, nothing about how to be presentable and authoritative.

What does this nothing of a girl have that I don’t?

Before I can puzzle my way through this mystery, the door opens and maids are rolling in several racks of dresses, cases of shoes, jewelry and designer bags. All of which is followed by an impossibly tall androgynous figure dressed in a velvet pant suit so well tailored that it seems like a second skin.

“Darlings, I heard there was an emergency and I am here to save the day.” Their voice is husky, with a lovely southern drawl. “Now, now… let’s see the little tragedy that we are working on today. Not you of course, Olivia, you are a treasure.”

“It is lovely to see you, Fleur, thank you for the quick response. Would you like some tea?” I wave a maid over. “Is it still earl grey?”

“Yes, honey, just like my favorite little bald man - earl grey, hot hot hot.”

From behind one of the racks there’s a sqeal and Abby’s head peeps around. “Star trek! Captain Picard!”

Fleur claps their hands together. “I did always have a thing for bald men in positions of power. Come around so I can see what we are working with.”

“Yes ma’am….sir?.....ma’am? I’m sorry.”

“Tsk, tsk, the term is gender fluid. Today I feel like a ma’am, but a neutral pronoun is usually your safest bet.” Fleur walks around Abby, “Nice curves, but you’re a strong one….no wonder the store didn’t have anything that didn’t look like a potato sack. You are quite trim here and here, which given the size of your bosom, off the rack department store garbage doesn’t account for.”

I’m flicking dresses back and forth on the racks to assess the options. “Let’s try …. This one, this one and this one…. And hello, this one is sneaky, let’s try it too.” I see Fleur nodding at my choices.

“Thank you, this is… very overwhelming.” Abby looks like she’s on the verge of tears. “Thank you, so so much.”

Fleur takes the teacup the maid returned with and takes a sip. “Go now, our little lump of clay, we will make every one of those petty bitches at the ball green with envy. Your mate will need to beat the men back, even Cinder-f*****g-ella would eat her own heart out by the time we are done.”

Abby squeals again with excitement and disappears behind the curtain to change.

“Olivia, do I sense a spark of rebellion in you? Your mother had your dress picked out months ago. I brought a different one… JUST ONE though, because you are the only person I can see wearing this dress and I refuse to be denied.” They lead me over to the far end of the first rack and unzips the garment bag.

My breath catches in my throat.

“It’s………perfect.”