Page 42 of Violet

“We can go to a seamstress,” I say. “Or I’ll just repeat wear. It’s fine.”

“Nope. You’re the Luxe. They’ll crucify you for wearing something twice.”

“But you just told me to wear jeans. They’ll crucify me for that, too.”

“Less likely, but never mind. I’ll handle it.” She pulls out more clothes. “We’ll repurpose. I can make you new outfits, from casual to dressy. Mom has gowns I can rework, too.”

“If she lets you?—”

“She will.” Iris pulls out a simple loose dress, throws me a pair of black leggings and a black thin cardigan. “Wear these with these shoes.” She hands me a pair of slightly heeled black sandals before pointing to my bathroom. “Go. Put it on.”

Iris knows more about fashion than I do, so I listen and head to change. When I’m done, I stare in the mirror. With the cardigan, the top has shape and the heels and leggings give it an edge. It’s like a new outfit.

I open the door. “What do you think?”

“Fab,” Iris says. Then she gathers the mound of clothes.

“For real?” I say. “And are you sure you can redo all those clothes? It’s a lot.”

“I’m the best with needle and thread in this house. Just call me your fairy god-sister. But I’m also expecting my bathroom cleaned for a month.”

I gasp. “Amonth?”

“Hey, we had to let a lot of help go. And I refuse to scrub toilets.” Iris cackles out a laugh. “So, do you want new clothes or not?”

I sigh. “Fine, deal.”

“Great.” With a wide grin, she pushes out of my room just as Rue bounds in, her phone held high.

“O.M.G., Vi! You’re famous. Are you going to mate with him? I asked him that, but he was mean to me.”

My head spins. “Stephan?”

“Yeah.” She rolls her eyes and flops on my bed, crossing her legs as she starts to scroll. “But he probably thought I was a fan. Mom said Heath’s received a flurry of invites from Alphas wanting to take you out on a date!”

More Alphas?

I should be thrilled. This is what I wanted, after all, to have my pick for my mate. But this feels like it is much too soon.

And Stephan…

Spots of color burst in front of my eyes, and I sit, limbs suddenly too heavy and too weak to support me. My chest tightens.

“Has anyone come to visit today?” I ask, voice small.

“Not yet!” Rue almost squeals. “But soon, you’re going to have men kick down our door just to see you. How exciting!”

I can’t breathe; my throat’s closing.

Calm down.

Think oak.

Rich, earthy, slightly sweet.

Yes…

The stress eases a little, and I breathe in.

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