The Luna's Bodyguard [a mature werewolf romance]

Ch 9: The (Un)dressing Room

OPHELIA POV
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If I thought the menu was bad, the price tags on the dresses were abhorrent. I was boxed into the dressing room with a half-witch and an armchair piled high with metallic fabrics, all of which were apparently in season.

"How much is this one?" I asked, looking unusually pale in the floor to ceiling mirror. Somebody had etched a stunning peacock into the reflective glass.

Addy pinched the tag and flashed it over my shoulder, so I could read it in the mirror. Panic crawled up my throat, slippery and vile, but I was terrified of puking on the sparkly material. The dress was a blinding gold, skin tight and heavy like a suit of armour, making my deep red hair shine.

"Get it off me," I said, trying to wriggle out without ripping the zipper. These things were held together by puffs of newborn breath and spiderwebbing. It was ludicrous.

"Stop acting like a baby," Addy snapped. "People are trying to buy you nice things. Take them."

"There are four zeros on this tag," I hissed right back. "Four."

She frowned. "You're right, that is on the cheap side. Try this one on next — it's got diamonds stitched into the bodice."

The pressure in my skull increased. "Why do I need all this anyway?"

My flanks were heaving. I couldn't quite catch my breath, though that was probably because an obscene amount of these things were corseted. Was the goal to make women stupid by restricting blood flow to the brain?

"You're engaged to the Crown Prince," she stressed, as if it was obvious. "If you walk in like some bedraggled stray with your tail between your legs, they'll never take you seriously at court. You'll be treated like a baby-making machine and denied any real power in our society." 

It made sense, and I was surprised by her foresight. It was almost kind of her to share that information with me, when she could have so easily sabotaged my entry into society while still collecting her pay cheque. She didn't realise I wasn't intending to stay.

Ah well. I'd be going in with a bang, and out with a body bag. And she was right — it wasn't my money, and I wouldn't have cooked up this ridiculous suicide mission if they hadn't tried to kidnap my sister in the first place. Why not spend it?

So I accepted the sparkly dress and hung it up on the wall hook. Even though one of these dresses could have fed Aurora and I for a year. Even though one of those itty bitty diamonds on that stupidly sparkly bodice could have saved me months of back-breaking and demeaning work.

"Where did you get that ring?" Addy asked abruptly.

"My —" I bit off, realising I'd been about to say step-mum. It technically belonged to my father, who would use it to stamp letters and sign accords, but it was his second wife who thrust it into my hands as we were fleeing the burning castle. "It's a family heirloom. It was passed onto me."

"Well it's riddled with spell-work," she said with a frown. The metal felt like it was heating under her boiling scrutiny. "Blood magic, by the looks of it. Give it here."

She grabbed my hand and I grabbed her throat without thinking, slamming her against the mirror. Glass cracked beneath her skull and the curtain flew open as Nate and Fallon stormed in, their skin crawling with magic in preparation of a fight. Musky testosterone flooded the room, making it feel even more enclosed than usual.