Stella
“Doesn’t seem to matter what you do, Stella,” Miriam said to her step daughter, “The gods will decide and then you’ll decide.”
Stella rolled her eyes, not wanting her stepmother to see how aggravated she was. The archaic system of choosing a mate was ridiculous. The gods even said it was pure entertainment, except you couldn’t breed with anyone except for your mate.
“She’ll end up with a beta anyway!” Katie said, slipping into the room as her mother and stepsister finished putting the last button on Stella’s dress.
“Where did you get that ugly dress?”
Miriam cringed, “She made it.”
“Or an omega...” Penelope snickered as she entered the room in a beautiful rose colored ball gown, “Or none at all!”
Miriam eyed her two daughters as Stella stepped down from the stool to fix her hair in front of the vanity.
“You’re not sitting with us, are you?” Katie frowned, “Mother, no...”
Miriam shook her head, “No, I’m sure she has friends she can sit with, don’t you, Stella?”
Stella wasn’t bothered by their bullying. She’d endured it for years. Technically, Stella was already out of the house and making it on her own as a seamstress, but Miriam kept her close for the inheritance her husband left.
People in the Gibbous Moon Pack weren’t happy when Alpha Omar passed away, leaving his wife to run the den until a new alpha was chosen the next full moon cycle
Contrary to what Miriam and her daughters believed, they weren’t well liked, but tolerated for the honor and memory of Alpha Omar.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine at the ball,” Stella replied, “I’m not looking for a mate anyway.”
“Of course she’s not looking for a mate. You’ll be rejected anyway,” Penelope scoffed, “Not us, though. Gods never!”
Miriam exited the room only to return with ribbons for Stella’s hair.
“I don’t want to wear those,” Stella said,“I’ll look like I’m a teenager.”
“You’re not too old to wear them,” Miriam insisted, “Put them in your hair or walk to the ball.”
“I was going to walk anyway.”
“Hope it rains on ya!” Katie snarled.
“Why? Why would you hope that?”
“Don’t answer,” Penelope snickered,“Come on. If she’s gonna walk, we can leave now and not wait for her to get those stupid ribbons in her hair.”
