Siren Alpha

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Chapter Twenty-Four


Dustin

"No," I said, as my wolf growled an even stronger refusal.

"Yes," Riley insisted. "She looks fabulous."

I groaned and buried my face in my hands, peeping at Freya through the gaps.

She was wearing a short skin-tight sparkly dress Riley swore would go so well with the "Feral theme".

"My mate should scream Feral in all that she is," he drawled, feigning haughty sophistication. I rolled my eyes. "I mean look how her hair stands out against the fabric. I love it."

I stared hard at him. "Uhuh. No."

He looked smugly at me. "Is that so, Dust? Why don't we let Freya decide."

"You know she can't say "no" after you've endorsed the silly dress like that, Riles."

"Problem?" Miss. Bently asked, coming into the backroom to stand next to Freya.

"Yes. Please inform Dustin, that it isn't the dark ages anymore, and his girlfriend can wear anything she wants without him going all Neanderthal."

Miss. Bently smiled kindly at me. "She can wear leggings under the dress."

I sighed. Freya looked so uncomfortable being the cause of argument between me and Riley. It would take her a little longer to realise that it was how we were. Riley and Dustin, always bickering.

"Freya, what do you want?" I pushed.

The expression she gave me was pained. "I don't know. I never really developed a fashion sense, you know? Like a sense of self. What I like to wear, or what I feel good wearing. We just wore whatever our parents chose for us. We were never meant to decide." She shrugged helplessly.

I felt unfiltered burning rage flow through me. I could feel Riley vibrating with the same emotion beside me. Siren Wolves lived such an unfair life. Raised to be perfect mates, just to avoid being punished in the event they were not. Stripped of all decisions because in the end someone else would be making them on their behalf.

Someone had to do something about it. If no one did, I would.

Alpha wolves needed to get over themselves. Sirens had feelings and hopes and dreams. Real stuff to deal with.

"You can leave us, Miss. Bentley. Thank you," I said. She left through the door with a worried glance at Freya.

Freya bit her lip and looked at Riley and me uhappily. "I'm sorry."

"No, no," Riley said standing up and hugging her. "It's not your fault. We'll help figure it out."

"Riley got you a bunch of clothes last time. Is there anything you liked in particular? Anything you looked forward to wearing more than the rest?"

She thought it over for a second. "I liked wearing your sweatshirts."

When Riley had bought her her own clothes we had taken back ours, sweatshirts included.

"We can buy more of those," Riley said.

"No. Yours, as in, the ones you've worn before. I like smelling like my mates. It makes me feel....owned."

Riley raised his eyebrows. "Okay," he said nodding slowly. But he agreed anyway. "We'll buy more for me and Dustin so that they're more sweatshirts to go around. Anything else?"

"I want this dress if Dustin doesn't mind too much."

Decisions. She had to make them. I could never let myself stifle this girl. Ever. She had to be her own person.

"Whatever you want," I said.

"Because I like the way you look at me when I wear it. I know that's why you don't want me to wear it. You don't want other people looking at me like that. But I don't care about other people. All I care about is you. I love it when you look at me like that," she finished, looking at her toes.

I don't think I had ever seen Freya be shy before that moment.

I laughed and picked her up, twirling her around. "Minx of mine," I declared with a smile.

"You'll be the death of me."

She wrapped her legs around my waist. "That's the idea."

"So its a yes for the dress?" Riley asked, as I put Freya down.

'Yes," she said. "Everything else, you guys can pick. I don't care."

She waved her hand at us in a nonchalant gesture and closed herself inside the dressing room.

Riley and I stood side by side staring at the door. He grinned and looked at me from the corner of his eye.

"Her legs do look good in that dress."

I elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

"Oww!' he cried.

"Go pick out t-shirts and stuff. I'll get her bottoms. I don't trust you not to pick out tiny shorts and tiny skirts," I grumbled.

He smirked and backpedaled into the store. "Sure, Dust. Of course. Its my pleasure." But his blue eye screamed mischief.
I picked out a bunch of skinny jeans-- I had to admit she looked good in those-- shorts, because there's no "swanlake" without "lake" and Riley and me loved to go to the beach.

There were these flowery skirts that billowed and reached the ankles. I loved those, so of course I picked some out. Lilac, green and pink.

In the end Riley bit me in the ass, figuratively. Because all he picked out were lacy see-throughs and crop-tops that exposed Freya's midriff. I glared at him when she laughed and agreed to take all of them. Those two were incorrigible.

But damn, Freya looked absolutely edible in them
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