Chapter 52
Chapter 52 ARTEMISIA
"Oh, dear Goddess."
I jump as Alberta shows up behind me as I am examining my ball gown, which must have been delivered to me just in time for Fynn to trash it.
So mean.
The red fabric adorned with the little gems is now just a witness of how sharp claws can be. By all the tears, and seeing that the middle is nearly cut through, it is actually remarkable how it is still hanging against my closet as one item.
She recovers herself pretty quickly as she walks into my walk-in wardrobe wearing an encouraging smile. "Nothing a pair of talented hands can't fix."
"Your optimism is golden, Alberta." I laugh, passing my fingers over the shredded fabric hanging on a cloth hanger. "Thank you." Sighing, I shake my head as I feel like I'm trapped in some strange and unromantic adaptation of the beauty and the beast.
She lifts the pile of fabrics she is holding in her hands up into the air and her smile grows. "I brought you something."
"Perfect, work is just what I need to get myself a bit of distraction," I say, trying to match her optimistic tone.
We walk back into my living room, where two Omegas are already setting up a mini-atelier with a sewing machine and a desk for the patterns.
"This is amazing," I say while staring in awe, making the three of them giggle. "I didn't know I would get my own fancy atelier."
As I had entered my quarters after having spoken with Cayden, I actually lost all the fighting spirit I had in me and I felt just sadness.
All the decorations that they had so lovingly put up for me to make me feel at home in my new surroundings were gone. I guess that all the vases with the colourful flowers, the cups with the scented candles, and the cute little figurines had been shattered during his rampage.
My bed was totally torn apart and even the frame was cracked. Luckily, my wardrobe seems to have been only dismembered and just a few of my clothes have been torn apart.
Like the dress Matthew loved so much, by coincidence.
Asshole.
My furniture was damaged as well, even if not to the same extent as the bed.
While a great sense of desperation wafted through me, I suddenly sensed a growl rippling through my mind. First, I thought that I must have been hallucinating, also because Cassy would never be able to generate such a sound, but just a few heartbeats later, Drake's gravelly voice confirmed to me that it was real.
'I hate seeing mate sad.'
Fighting the urge to feel surprised by the fact that Fynn's wolf was enacting a guest appearance in my head without Fynn being anywhere close, I acted solely annoyed.
'How about you two stop pulling such shit off,' I groaned back, making him growl.
'I will make him beg for forgiveness,' he promised, causing my brain to fill with the amazingly enticing picture of Fynn kneeling in front of me.
I scoffed to myself, shaking my head as if wanting to get rid of the picture, and stepped out of the way as two bulky guys carried in a new sideboard. 'Don't bother. I don't want to see either one of you two.'
He growls again but doesn't say anything else afterwards.
Slowly, one piece after another started to be replaced, I rearranged my things, and soon enough nothing of Fynn's rampage was recognizable anymore.
If it wasn't for my broken heart.
I sigh, tucking my hair behind my ear before continuing to operate the sewing machine. Alberta had given everything to teach me the basics and surely has the patience of a saint.
She spent nearly all morning going through the patterns with me and showed me the different threads and needles to work the various fabrics.
But even with all the encouragement possible everything I work on just seems skew.
I should have declined.
I have no talent whatsoever for this.
And they will still gush over all of what I made and a lot of poor
she-wolves will have to go to the net
beloved ball in the ugliest dresses and accessories ever.
I lost myself fully in the task to the extent that I actually was happy for Daisy bringing me my lunch for once as I would have totally forgotten to eat.
Pulling out the fabrics from under the needle of the machine, I exhale exhaustedly.
As I turn the cloth in my hands, I realise once more how lucky I am that someone else will be taking care of my dress.
Stretching myself, I get up and walk into my kitchen to make myself a cup of tea with the special cinnamon powder Lisa gave me.
I hum as I take the first sips and as the steam envelops my face and hands, I nearly miss his scent invading my quarters.
"I already told your wolf that you can
save your breath." I sigh as Fynne
appears in the door to my kitchen. "I don'twant to hear any excuses, or apologies..."
He scoffs, looking at me with a mocking expression. "What in all the conversations we had until now got you thinking I came to apologise?"
"Ah, I forgot that you're that particular sort of gentleman," I squint my eyes at him, clasping my cup.
The heat of my steamy tea streams through my fingers, and I force myself to concentrate on that rather than on his flexing muscles as he steps closer.
He sniffs the air, glancing at the cup in my hands. "What is that?"
"My tea, why?" I ask back, making him distort his face.
"It smells ghastly," he comments, looking like he wants to snatch it out of my hands.
Rolling my eyes, I put it down. "I have to drink a strange herbal tea that Daisy claims to be good for me. And Lisa gave me something sweet to make it more stomachable, sot might smell a bit strange. But it isn't that bad."
"Whatever, sweetheart. We have to talk about something," he says dryly, turning to walk away.
"Talk about what?" I groan as I follow him through my quarters, and watch him stop right before my dress. Crossing my arms, I scrunch my nose. "That was mean, by the way."
I watch him inspecting my trashed gown and ask myself if he felt just the lowest bit sorry for what he did.
"You broke the rules," he finally answers, without turning back to look at me.
"What rules? There were no rules. Just you trying to keep my mates from me!" I protest, making him click his tongue.
He turns slightly and eyes me up at me disparagingly, causing my heart to make a backflip.
"So, now we are going to sort this out," he says ignoring me, his deep baritone sending a shiver down my spine.
His tempting lips turn into a sly grin, and I cuss myself out as he must have felt that.
Just as I'm ready to argue further, the words get stuck in my throat as the air shifts.
Matthew's scent envelops me, even before I feel his presence behind me.
Gulping, I turn around slowly to face him, realising that Logan might have got the wrong idea about who would hear about our secret date.