Page 3 of Fated or Knot

Stars,the dress. It was a unique torture to retrieve it from our things and undo the garment bag to reveal it in a waterfall of deep green fabric. I ran my fingers over the velvety soft material, reverent with the silken ties and decorative bells thattinkled from the tiniest touch. It was a traditional omega dress, two scraps of cloth a female had to be tied into. As the style was meant to be cinched tight, it left little about the body to the imagination.

Also tucked in the garment bag was a set of fabric pixie wings. I set them and the decorative lantern that was part of the presenting ceremony on the vanity and started lacing Laurel into her exquisite dress. If she had wings, it would fit right under the base of the lower pair, with an extra tie to fit in between her top and bottom wings to ensure it wouldn’t fall off.

The style left her shoulders bare, and the fabric stopped after covering a few inches of her thighs. The silken ties crisscrossed down her sides, tied off at the ends with a set of three bells that rested just past the hem of the dress.

I handed her the fabric wings, and she shrugged them on while I inspected her from top to bottom. Yes, she looked like a mermaid beta wearing a pixie’s dress.

She was ready for the final touch. Cymora placed a decorative mask over Laurel’s face and nodded to me. “Remember, Lark. Stunning,” she said in a warning tone.

“Yes, Stepmother,” I repeated.

I’d imbued their masks over the last few weeks, flooding them with my essence until raw power stuck in every fiber of the cloth. When I reached out to touch the edge of the feathers decorating one side of Laurel’s mask, I was really tapping into that power to give it a purpose. As long as she wore the mask, the illusion I spun over her would remain in place no matter how far apart we were.

The fabric wings brightened with an inner glow, twitching occasionally like real pixie wings. My magic smoothed her curves and embedded sparkles in her skin, erasing any lingering evidence that she was a mermaid beta. I even changed the betamark that’d come in low on her back when she hit adulthood to resemble an omega symbol instead.

I tried for stunning. As numbness threaded up my arms, starting from my fingertips, I brushed away any blemishes to make Laurel as pretty as possible. Not exactly stunning, but as close as I could get.

Save some essence. Don’t use everything.

Once it was done, I cradled my belly and hunched, riding a wave of vertigo with my eyes tightly shut. Laurel turned around with the tinkling of bells to see her reflection in the mirror. She gasped and quickly exclaimed, “Look at me! I make such a beautiful pixie. I bet you wish you were this gorgeous, huh, Lark?”

A cool hand gripped my shoulder. I opened my eyes just a crack to make sure the world wasn’t still spinning, just for Cymora to jostle me. “An adequate job. Finish my illusion now,” she said.

She gestured toward the master bedroom just through the door, adding something about being allowed to sleep there, rather than the floor, until they returned from the event tonight.So generous.

I took a few shaking breaths. Their voices were like white noise, an undercurrent of disdain woven into the melody of my life. Laurel’s illusion had needed more essence than I’d already placed into her mask. If I ran out of magic now, I would fall into an exhausted sleep for days, long enough to close my eyes here and wake up on the floor of a coach bringing us back to Osme Fen and the looming threat of Pack Ellisar.

Stars, I couldn’t let that happen. I blinked away the bleariness of fatigue and refocused on Cymora, whose lips were still moving. She released me before I registered what she said, returning wearing a matching mask to Laurel’s. The decorativefeathers rose on the opposite side, but I’d painted them with the same swirls.

Just a little more. You can do this.I pictured the freedom I’d have if I managed to stay awake after casting this spell.

Her illusion would not be as difficult. I didn’t need to alter the cut of her dress, just her size and the points of a couple of her teeth to make proper alpha fangs. I touched the side of her mask and used the essence already imbued there, shaping and molding this illusion more carefully so it didn’t require more than a few drops of the limited magic I had left.

Numbness crept up to my elbows, but I was upright, and Cymora seemed pleased.

“Rest up,” she said, shoving me toward the bed. It looked very soft, with heaps of sheets and pillows. I wanted to test the plushness of the pile, imagining for a moment a nest made with them. But if I lay down, I wouldn’t have the energy to get back up. “Maybe your heat willfinallyarrive. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

I grimaced for half a moment, barely a flinch.Oh yes, so great,I wanted to say in a biting tone. A response like that would have me punished severely, but she was already turning away without noticing a thing, gathering up Laurel and everything they’d need.

“Good luck,” I croaked.

Laurel glanced back at me and scoffed. “I don’t need it,” she said and sashayed out the door.

I stood by a window and combed my hair to pass the time. The simple motion tugged my scalp, and each knot I encountered created just enough pain to keep me awake. Feeling slowly circulated into my arms again too.

I didn’t dare sneak a peek outside, afraid Cymora would spot me. I just listened for the telltale clop of hooves and the creak of wooden wheels to let me know my stepfamily and the wealthy visitors who’d rented the other cottages were off to attend the Omega Masquerade.

Only then did I draw a new bath. It was time for me to prepare to go to the event, too. When Cymora began plotting Laurel’s place in a wealthy pack, I’d planned as well. Waiting for this moment.

I had one night to change my fate.

I cleaned the grime of travel from my skin and inspected the mark right under my belly button. It was a small circle of enchanted ink painted there by the most discreet essence spinner in Osme Fen. Already, lines of skin threatened to split it in half… As I’d been warned, the longer I pushed off my heat, the less time the suppressant tattoos would last. I’d only gotten this one reapplied three months ago.

I paid dearly for the magical charm, trading anything of value I could take from the estate to pay the essence spinner. It was worth it, especially when his magic had helped me stave off my first heat for four years. Pack Ellisar was prepared, breedingcontract in hand, to claim me when it finally arrived, but the trio of barkfolk would wait fruitlessly once I escaped tonight.

The thought of them waiting for me in Osme Fen drew a shudder through my wet wings. I wouldn’t go back. They’d never grab me in the market again. Never force another kiss on my lips. Never pull my hair to expose my neck to another slimy lick and to whisper lewdly in my ear about dessert. Cymora may have agreed to sell me to them once I went into my first heat, but they’d never see that moment to claim me permanently.

I finished cleaning myself and limped over to view my reflection in the mirror. My determination faltered as I really inspected what I saw there. Four years ago, I’d thought I’d rather die than see myself bitten into Pack Ellisar, but…I was fading.

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