Of course. He was there when Brent pretty much ordered me to mingle with the other queens of the packs to get some dirt on them, and it all just seems so superfluous.
While the elders discuss a possible war, I have to parade around in a pretty dress or fight for my pack’s honor.
It’s hard to relax knowing a human invasion could be imminent. They’d be stupid to attack when we have so many wolves in residence, it would be a suicide charge at the most.
I want to get back down to the dungeons again and talk with Raven. But instead I have to mingle with some stuck up wolf bitches.
I have no idea what they’ll be like. Natasha pretty much rubbed shoulders with these females every year, keeping up appearances while they all secretly despised each other, plotting behind one another’s backs.
My former rival was not invited this year, or her ex minions Chelsea and Annabel. I know the two only agreed to go with me at the chance to attend the queen’s tent again, but I’m glad they’re beginning to show a little independence.
Patrick comes up behind me and his eyes bug out when he sees the dress. “Wow...”
I sigh, dropping the note. “Yeah.”
“So, are you going to wear it?”
I shrug and drop onto the bed, glancing up at the dress. It matches the color of my eyes, a beautiful, elegant green, and I’ve never worn anything so pretty in my life.
I thought wolf females were about leather and boots. I’d personally be more comfortable in leather since I’ve never worn heels in my life.
I’m clueless when it comes to fashion.
If only I had someone to help me with my makeup. I need to make a good impression. This is my one chance to showcase who I am. It’s my debut.
There’s a knock at the door, and Patrick gets up to answer. I listen from the bed, my ears perking up when I recognize the voices. Chelsea and Annabel.
What are they doing here?
Patrick stumbles. “Um... How... how can I help you ladies?”
“Is she here?”
It’s Annabel. I’d know that squeaky little baby voice from anywhere.
Patrick stammers again. “You mean Ylfa?”
“Yes!”
“Um...”
My mate takes a while to respond, unsure of what to tell the small girl. He’s never spoken to either of them before, so I get up to come to his aid, stopping at the threshold of the bedroom door.
Little Annabel beams, waving in excitement. “Ylfa! It’s us!”
My chin hits the floor when I spy those bags in her hands. It’s makeup. Chelsea carries her own bags, and I have to rub my eyes.
Am I really seeing this? Two of my former bullies at my residence?
Chelsea leans against the doorframe, looking a little unsure, while Annabel squeals for joy, and I don’t have the heart to turn them away. Besides. They’re my saving grace. I was just thinking about how I needed help with my makeup.
“Let them inside, Patrick.”
My mate steps to one side and now the two females enter, glancing around interestedly.
I spy the many knives on their weapons belt, and I ponder where they’re going to keep all those when we get to the party.
It’s a formal affair, right? Are weapons allowed?