Page 28 of Violet

Spread that honey! See you there at the ball!

- Queen Bee

CHAPTER

NINE

Violet

Istare down at the dress hugging my body. It used to be Mom’s, but the cut…

Sharp nails gouge my stomach and throat from the inside as I swallow. “I can’t wear this.”

Rue sits on my bed, dressed in a rose-red gown and taking selfies like a teenage femme fatale.

“I give good face,” Rue mutters, posing again.

Mom wrings her hands. “The dresses aren’t new, but I thought for the first ball?—”

“You have to make a splash,” Rue says, weary like an ancient soul, “everyone knows that.”

“Maybe you should go downstairs, Rue.” I plead with my eyes. Luckily, a commotion erupts outside the room.

“Just me, Mom, and Violet at the ball, Mari,” Heath’svoice thunders. “No one else. I need you and Dahlia to watch Rue.”

Rue jumps up. “What? No! I need to go! I need all my potential mates to sniff me!”

Mom gasps. “Rue! You’re too young for that.”

But Rue’s already out the door, trailing silk and lace. “We’ll see about that!”

Mom picks up a dress from the ones laid out, and my heart slams hard and the guilt rises high.

“That girl, I don’t know what to do with her.” She doesn’t look at me as she hangs one of the other gowns on a padded hanger, then zips the protective bag up. She may be able to go about the necessary steps of the day, but she’s a shadow of the woman she once was when Dad was alive. It was as if his death stole a piece of her soul. “I wish they were all like you, Violet. So agreeable. So accommodating.”

I swallow hard, heat rising. “They’re just young, Mom. They’ll grow, and learn.”

“You’ve always been so mature for your age. I never had to worry about you.” She places her hand on my cheek and looks at me with her graying blue eyes. “I hope this Season you’ll find a mate to give you the love you deserve.”

“Mom…”

I can see the tears swimming in her eyes, but she blinks quickly and turns around. “But first—first, we’ll go to the store. Get you something prettier than my hand-me-downs?—”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll wear this one. I love the idea of wearing something from your Season. It’s just that this dress is…daring. I’m not sure I can pull it off.”

Mom suddenly laughs. “It’s what I wore when Henry and I announced our mate bond. It’s perfect, trust me.”

I just wish the bodice wasn’t so fitted and the décolletage didn’t dip quite so low.

“It’s perfect, Violet, because of this.” She opens a smallish box and pulls out a half mask. It’s the same burnished bronze like the satin and velvet of the dress. She slips it into place. After she pins my hair in a loose knot, I look in the mirror.

A vixen who understands the world stares back. An Omega who knows what she wants. Cat-like, sly, like I know how to wrap men around my finger. I look like?—

A fraud.

But the longer I look, I can see it: some makeup, heels, and I’ll both blend in and be on show. Hiding under the cover of the mask. I don’t even have to do a thing. The outfit with the mask does it for me.

I know the fashion for this year calls for short dresses with puffed skirts, or something asymmetrical, either at the shoulder or the hem. But everyone wears those. Of course, there are more traditional cuts, but they all have that same hemline, the same sleeves.

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