Page 20 of Wisteria and Cloves

Friday brought the final medical examination my mother had insisted upon. Dr. Whitmore, our family physician for over a decade, conducted the appointment with the same clinical detachment he'd shown during all my previous visits. But this time felt different—more invasive, more thorough. He documented everything with meticulous precision, ensuring I met whatever standards the Vale pack might require.

"Perfect health," he announced to my mother afterward, as if I weren't sitting right there. "All systems functioning optimally. The heat suppression has caused no adverse effects."

My mother beamed with satisfaction. "Excellent. We'll forward the complete report to Mr. Vale immediately."

Saturday evening, my last night in this house. I hadn’t bothered using the phone they provided me. I didn’t want to bother them and didn’t want to get caught with it. My mother and maids had been in and out of my room, not leaving me much time alone.

I sat at my vanity, ostensibly removing my makeup from dinner, but really just trying to process the fact that in twelve hours, everything would change. My packed suitcases stood lined up near the door like silent sentinels—three large cases filled with the carefully curated wardrobe my mother had assembled, plus one smaller bag containing the few personal items she'd deemed appropriate for me to take.

What she didn't know was that I'd hidden several books beneath the false bottom of my jewelry case—volumes I'd managed to acquire over the years despite her restrictions. A collection of poetry, a philosophy text, and yes, the physics bookI'd borrowed from the groundskeeper's son. Small rebellions, but they felt monumental now.

The knock on my door made me freeze. "Come in," I called, quickly capping my Chapstick.

My mother entered, her silk robe flowing behind her like she was making a grand entrance even in my bedroom. She carried a small velvet box in her hands, her expression softer than I'd seen it all week.

"I wanted to give you this before tomorrow," she said, settling beside me on the vanity bench. "It belonged to your grandmother, and her grandmother before that."

She opened the box to reveal a delicate pearl necklace with a diamond clasp—beautiful, traditional, and utterly conservative. The kind of jewelry that whispered rather than spoke, that complemented without drawing attention.

"Thank you, Mother," I said, accepting the box with appropriate reverence. "It's lovely."

"Pearls are always appropriate," she said, her fingers smoothing my hair back from my face. "They speak to breeding without ostentation. The Vale pack will appreciate such restraint."

I nodded, studying the necklace. Another chain, I thought, then immediately felt guilty for the thought. My grandmother had worn this necklace, had probably treasured it. It wasn't the jewelry's fault that it had become another symbol of the cage I was escaping.

"I want you to remember," my mother continued, her voice taking on that lecturing tone I knew so well, "that tomorrow marks the beginning of the most important phase of your life. Everything we've worked toward has led to this moment."

"I understand, Mother." I said, keeping my voice soft but with no emotion.

She studied my reflection in the vanity mirror, her critical gaze cataloging every detail. "You look pale. Are you nervous?"

"A little," I admitted, which was true enough, though not for the reasons she imagined.

"That's natural. Any proper Omega would feel some trepidation about joining such a prestigious pack." Her hand rested on my shoulder, fingers pressing just hard enough to remind me of her presence. "I may be an Alpha, and not understand you as an Omega would, but you have come this far. You have done well.”

Her words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I saw something almost vulnerable flicker across her features. It was the closest thing to maternal affection she'd shown me in years, and it made my chest tighten with unexpected emotion.

"Thank you," I whispered, unsure what else to say.

She squeezed my shoulder once before standing. "Get some rest. The car will arrive at ten o'clock sharp. I want you downstairs, fully dressed and ready, by nine-forty-five."

"Yes, Mother." I said obediently, like I had been taught by her through all these years.

She paused at the door, her hand on the frame. "Lilianna?"

"Yes?"

"Make us proud." The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving me alone with the weight of her expectations and the pearl necklace gleaming in its velvet nest. I set the box on my vanity and stared at my reflection.

Tomorrow would be my last day following her rules.

I slipped my hand under the loose floorboard beneath my bed, retrieving the hidden phone. I needed to hear their voices, to remind myself that the promise of tomorrow was real. I hesitated, then selected Julian's number, my heart racing as I pressed call.

He answered on the second ring.

"Lilianna?" His voice was alert despite the late hour. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," I whispered, moving to the window seat where I'd be harder to hear from the hallway. "I just... I needed to make sure tomorrow is still happening."

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