9 Chapter 9


    Seraphina’s POV 1


    After what felt like the longest afternoon of my professional life, I finally managed toplete all the arrangements for tomorrow’s dinner party at eight o’clock. My phone had been buzzing incessantly with calls from Ophelia, each message more frantic than thest. She’d already picked up Adrian from school, and ording to her increasingly dramatic voicemails, my four-year-old son was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement about his first day, demanding to know when his mommy would being home.


    When I finally escaped the office building, I found Ophelia leaning against her car in the parking garage, arms crossed and wearing the expression of someone who’d been plotting my lecture for the past hour. Adrian was secured in his car seat in the back, his little face pressed against the window as he waved enthusiastically at me.


    “Mommy!” he called out, his voice muffled by the ss but his excitement unmistakable.


    My heart melted instantly, washing away the stress of the day like magic. I slipped into the passenger seat and immediately twisted


    around to face him.


    “Hey, my little man! How was your first day at the big kid school?”


    “It was AMAZING!” Adrian bounced in his seat as much as his safety harness would allow. “I made three new friends, and the teacher said I was very smart, and we painted pictures of our families, and-”


    “Whoa, slow down there, champ,” Iughed, reaching back to ruffle his dark curls. “We’ll talk about everything over dinner, okay? Right


    now we need to get you some supplies for tomorrow.”


    Ophelia started the engine but kept ncing at me in the rearview mirror with barely contained curiosity. “Sera, you look like you’ve been through a war zone. What exactly happened on day one of your fancy new job?”


    I let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Ophelia, I think I might need to dust off my resume and start job hunting again.”


    Her foot mmed on the brake so hard we all lurched forward. Adrian giggled at the sudden stop, but Ophelia whipped around to stare


    at me with genuine horror.


    “Are you telling me you got FIRED? On your FIRST DAY?” Her voice rose to a pitch that probably only dogs could fully appreciate.


    “Not fired exactly,” I said quickly, waving my hands to calm her down before she gave herself an aneurysm. “More like… hated by my new


    boss.”


    As we drove toward the mall, I regaled them with the tale of my telephone encounters with the mysterious and apparently psychotic Mr.


    Nightshadow. By the time Ophelia pulled into a parking space, she wasughing so hard she was crying, and even Adrian was giggling


    from the backseat despite not understanding half the story.


    “Sera,” Ophelia gasped, wiping tears from her eyes, “you are absolutely incredible! Do you realize that most people would have quit after


    the first phone call? And you not only survived two conversations with an angry Alpha, but you actually argued with him!”


    I slumpedín my seat, feeling the full weight of my impending professional doom. “Yeah, well, tomorrow when he sees me face to face,


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    9 Chapter 9


    he’ll probably have security escort me out of the building.”


    Ophelia reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it firmly. “Hey, look at me. Even if that happens-which it won’t-you know I’ve got your back, right? You and Adrian will never be without support. We’re family.”


    The warmth in her voice made my throat tight with emotion. After years of feelingpletely alone in the world, having someone who


    cared this much still felt like a miracle.


    “Come on,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt with renewed energy. “Let’s go buy this little genius some school supplies and maybe find you something that’ll knock your boss’s socks off tomorrow.”


    We spent the next hour wandering through the mall, checking items off Adrian’s school supply list. We were heading toward the toy store-Adrian’s reward for being such a good sport about shopping-when I stopped dead in my tracks in front of an upscale boutique. There, disyed in the window like a piece of art, was the most breathtaking dress I’d ever seen.


    The emerald green fabric seemed to shimmer under the boutique’s carefully arranged lighting, the color so rich and deep. The cut was elegant but not overly conservative-sophisticated enough for a corporate environment but with enough style to make a statement. It was simr to the dress Ophelia had convinced me to wear to that fateful Lunar Assembly five years ago, but this one was clearly in a


    different league entirely.


    “Oh my,” I breathed, pressing my nose against the ss like a child staring at candy.


    Ophelia followed my gaze and immediately grabbed my arm. “We’re going in.”


    “Are you insane?” I hissed, ncing at the price tag visible on a nearby garment and feeling my wallet cry out in pain. “Ophelia, that dress


    probably costs more than my rent!”


    “Sera, listen to me.” She turned to face me, her expression suddenly serious. “You’re not working at some dingy little office anymore.


    You’re now the senior assistant to one of the most powerful Alphas in the werewolf world. Image matters in that environment, whether


    we like it or not.”


    I started to protest, but she held up a hand to stop me.


    “Besides,” she continued, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes, “when your terrifying boss sees you wearing that dress, he’s going to


    be so stunned he’ll forget all about wanting to fire you. You’ll knock himpletely off bnce.”


    “Ophelia-”


    “Also, you deserve something beautiful. When’s thest time you bought yourself anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary for survival?”


    I opened my mouth to answer and realized I couldn’t remember. Between working multiple jobs, putting myself through school, and


    raising Adrian, there hadn’t been money or time for anything that could be considered a luxury.


    “If you don’t go in there and try on that dress right now,” Ophelia said with mock sternness, “I’m going to march in there myself, buy it,


    and then you’ll have no choice but to wear it.”


    “Ophelia, I can’t let you-”


    “Try me.”


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    “Fine,” I sighed, “but I’m not promising to buy anything.”


    The boutique’s interior was even more intimidating than the window disy. Everything was cream and gold, with soft lighting that made even the simplest garments look like they belonged in a museum. A sales associate approached us immediately.


    “Good afternoon,dies. How may I assist you today?”


    I pointed somewhat sheepishly toward the window disy. “I was wondering if I could try on that green dress?”


    Her face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. “Oh, excellent choice! That piece just arrived from Mn. Let me grab it in your size-I’d


    estimate you’re a six?”


    “She’s a perfect six,” Ophelia chimed in before I could respond.


    Within minutes, I found myself in an opulent fitting room that wasrger than my first apartment, staring at the dress hanging on its padded hanger. The fabric felt like liquid silk under my fingers, and the weight of it suggested quality that I’d never experienced before.


    I slipped it on and immediately understood why it had cost so much. The dress didn’t just fit-it transformed me. The emerald color made my skin glow and turned my eyes into brilliant jewels. The cut entuated every curve while somehow making me look taller and


    more confident. When I turned to face the mirror, I barely recognized myself.


    “Sera!” Ophelia’s voice came from outside the fitting room, filled with barely contained impatience. “Get out here before I break down


    this door!”


    I took a deep breath and stepped out of the fitting room. Ophelia’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with something that looked


    almost like shock. The sales associate actually gasped audibly.


    “Oh my goodness,” the woman breathed, circling around me like I was a sculpture she was examining. “I’ve been in fashion retail for twenty years, and I have never seen a dress fit someone so perfectly. It’s like it was designed specifically for your body.”


    I turned to look at myself in the three-way mirror and felt my breath catch. The woman looking back at me bore little resemnce to the exhausted single mother who’d been running on coffee and determination for the past five years. This woman looked powerful,


    confident, beautiful-like someone who belonged in boardrooms and corner offices.


    “I have to have it,” I heard myself saying, surprising everyone including myself.