Claiming My Bestfriend's Alpha Dad

Chapter 6: The Dress Fitting

By noon the next day, the packhouse boutique was a chaotic, beautiful mess of ivory silk, shimmering tulle, and trailing satin. Light poured through the high arched windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air like fallen stars. Maya stood proudly on a velvet-covered raised dais in the center of the room, spinning slowly as the pack’s master tailor, a stern elderly wolf named Mrs. Gable, pinned the delicate hem of a shimmering emerald gown that perfectly matched Maya's vibrant eyes.

Elara sat on a cushioned velvet stool nearby, clutching a heavy swatch book of rich fabric options against her knees, though her mind was miles away from silk and lace. She had barely slept a single hour. Every time she had closed her eyes in the quiet darkness of her small room, she saw Kaelen’s stormy gray gaze looking down at her. She felt the ghost of his rough, calloused thumb dragging against her lower lip, hearing his low, gravelly promise of ruin over and over until her blood ran hot.

"Elara? Earth to Elara!"

Maya snapped her manicured fingers playfully, pulling Elara abruptly back to the present.

"You've been spacing out all morning, El," Maya teased, craning her neck as Mrs. Gable tutted in disapproval at her moving. "Is it about the seating arrangements? Because if Uncle Marcus complains about sitting near the kitchens again, just tell him I said to deal with it. He's lucky he got an invitation after last year's performance."

"No, it's not Marcus," Elara said quickly, forcing a practiced, sweet smile as she stood up to adjust a fold of navy fabric on the display table to give her nervous hands something to do. "Just... tired. Too much coffee this morning and not enough sleep last night."

"Well, snap out of it, because you're up next," Maya announced with a bright grin, stepping down from the dais with the steadying hand of the tailor. "Go try on the sapphire number over there. It's going to look incredible on you, and I want us to match the jewel-tone theme for the opening processional."

Reluctantly, Elara took the heavy wooden hanger holding the deep blue silk dress and retreated into the spacious fitting room at the back of the boutique.

The moment she pulled the privacy curtain, she let out a long, shaky breath. The material was impossibly soft, cool against her warm skin, slipping over her body like liquid glass. It was an off-the-shoulder cut, exposing the long curve of her neck, her collarbones, and the smooth expanse of her shoulders before hugging her waist tightly and cascading down to the floor. As she zipped up the back and turned toward the three-way mirror, her breath caught. Maya had impeccable taste. The rich, vibrant sapphire blue accentuated her dark hair and flushed skin, making her look radiant—and utterly vulnerable.

Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the main boutique swung open, followed by the familiar, unmistakable thud of heavy leather boots against the hardwood floor.

Elara froze in front of the mirror, her heart leaping straight into her throat. A deep, authoritative voice echoed from the main shop floor, carrying that unmistakable Alpha resonance that vibrated through the floorboards.

"Maya? Are you finished here? The border patrol reports require my signature before three, and the council is already assembling."

Kaelen.

Just hearing his voice sent a sharp electric charge straight down Elara's spine. She pressed her back against the cool mirrored glass, squeezing her eyes shut, holding her breath as if shrinking into the shadows could somehow shield her from his predatory awareness.

"Dad! Over here!" Maya called out cheerfully, her voice echoing into the back room. "Come look at my dress! And don't you dare say it's too extravagant—the Silvercrest gala only happens once a year."

Through the thin wooden paneling of the fitting room door, Elara heard Kaelen’s heavy, deliberate footsteps approach. She could picture him so clearly: broad shoulders filling out his crisp uniform, his dark hair slightly rumpled, his stern jaw set in a permanent line of duty.

"It suits you, Maya," Kaelen’s deep voice rumbled, much closer now, standing right outside the fitting alcove. "Though you could wear a burlap sack and still command the room like your mother used to."

"Flatterer," Maya laughed, her tone full of warmth. "Hey, Elara is trying on her gown in the fitting room right now. Make yourself useful and tell her if it looks decent—she's been completely spaced out all morning!"

Panic seized Elara's chest like a vise. No, no, no. If Kaelen walked in here—if he saw her trapped in this tiny, secluded space wearing an off-the-shoulder dress—she wouldn't survive the heat between them.

"Is she decent?" Kaelen asked, his tone dropping slightly, a cautious, dangerous thread lacing his words.

"Hold on, let me check," Maya said.

The brass handle turned, and the door opened just an inch or two as Maya peeked her head into the fitting room. She scanned Elara up and down, her eyes lighting up with genuine delight.

"Oh, El... you look absolutely stunning!" Maya breathed, stepping fully inside for a brief second to smooth down the side zip. "Look at you! Dad, come see this, she looks like royalty."

Before Elara could utter a word of protest, Maya stepped back out to usher her father in, gesturing for him to take a look. Kaelen slipped quietly into the fitting room behind his daughter, his tall, imposing frame immediately filling the small space, cutting off the light.

His stormy gray eyes locked onto Elara, sweeping slowly from her bare shoulders down the fitted silk of the dress, darkening instantly into a deep, volatile charcoal. The sheer intensity of his gaze was enough to make Elara's knees tremble.

"Lady Maya! We need you back on the dais for the hem adjustment before the dye sets!" Mrs. Gable’s sharp voice called out from the front of the shop.

"Duty calls!" Maya laughed, turning on her heel. She shot Elara a quick, bright wink over her shoulder. "That dress was made for you, El. Don't change yet!"

With that, Maya stepped out, pulling the door closed behind her.

The latch clicked shut.

The silence in the room became instantly deafening, thick and suffocating with the sudden surge of Kaelen's Alpha aura. Kaelen didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, his heavy boots silent on the plush rug, closing the distance between them until his chest was flush against her back. He reached out, his big, warm hands sliding firmly over her hips, turning her around so she was facing the three-way mirror again, backed completely against his massive chest.

Elara gasped, her hands instinctively coming up to rest on his forearms.

Kaelen leaned down, resting his heavy chin softly against the curve of her bare shoulder. His dark gaze met hers in the glass reflection, burning with a fierce, uncensored hunger that made her mouth go dry.

"God, Elara," he rumbled low against her skin, his warm breath fanning across her neck and sending goosebumps tumbling over her flesh. "You are breathtaking. Absolutely devastating."

Slowly, deliberately, he tilted his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of her neck, right where her pulse was jumping wildly. Elara bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut as he trailed a line of slow, searing kisses down the sensitive column of her throat, moving over her collarbone where the off-the-shoulder dress dipped low.

"Dad?" Maya’s voice suddenly called out from the front parlor, sounding slightly muffled through the heavy wood. "Did you see the blue one? Isn't it gorgeous on her?"

Kaelen didn't pull away. He didn't even flinch. His grip on Elara's waist tightened, holding her firmly against him as he continued his slow, intoxicating assault on her collarbone, his stubble lightly scratching her smooth skin.

"It's... it's wonderful, Maya!" Elara called out, her voice higher than usual, cracking slightly as Kaelen’s lips pressed into the delicate dip near her throat. She pressed her hand over her own mouth to keep from whimpering aloud.

Kaelen let out a low, dark chuckle against her skin, enjoying her desperate fight for control. His large hand slid down from her waist, tracing the sharp curve of her hip before moving lower, boldly cupping the lush curve of her rear through the thin silk of the dress, squeezing firmly.

Elara let out an involuntary, sharp gasp that morphed instantly into a breathy, embarrassed giggle. She swatted weakly at his muscular arm in the mirror. "Kaelen, stop... she's right outside!"

He paused, his hand lingering possessively against her hip, his eyes locking back onto hers in the mirror's reflection. The playfulness in his face yielded to a solemn, raw intensity that made her heart stop.

"Listen to me, little wolf," Kaelen murmured, his voice dropping into an agonizingly intimate register, his breath ghosting over her ear. "This gala... these politics... it's going to be a nightmare of eyes and protocol. But when the grand ball ends on Saturday night, I want you to wait for me at the edge of the northern balcony."

Elara looked up at him in the mirror, her chest heaving. "The northern balcony?"

"Yes," Kaelen growled softly, leaning down to press one last, deep kiss into the crook of her neck. "Where no one will follow us. Somewhere we can finally be alone, without this pack, without these titles, without these damn walls between us."

He slowly smoothed the silk over her hips, adjusting the neckline of her dress with incredible gentleness before stepping back, restoring a agonizing inch of space between them.

"And Elara?" he added, his gray eyes flashing with a dangerous, possessive heat as his hand rested on the brass door handle. "You will save the first dance for me. I don't care who is watching."