Chapter 6

Florence POV: Stuck With Irene For The Day

My hope of a quiet morning vanishes the moment I come downstairs. Penny is there, standing near the bottom of the staircase like a spider waiting in its web.

She takes one look at me and narrows her eyes. "Oh, look, your eyes are red. What is it?"

My dad appears from the kitchen. He walks with a strange sluggishness, a steaming mug of tea in his hand. He looks drunk.

"It must be hay fever," he mumbles, his voice soulless.

"It’s not hay," I say tightly as I adjust the strap of my canvas work bag. "I’m fine."

Dad sips his tea, his movements mechanical. "Where are you going?"

I stop and give him a wondering look, my lips pressing in a hard line. I step closer, staring at his face, searching the familiar lines of his features for any sign of the dad who raised me. He looks completely detached, his expression blank and glassy.

A cold prickle of dread crawls up my spine. "Dad . . . are you feeling well?"

Penny instantly jumps in front of me. "Of course your dad is okay," she snaps.

Dad smiles weakly but his eyes remain vacant.

He asks, "Why do you ask, Florence? My eyes aren't shot, are they? I slept like a child."

"Of course you did, darling," Penny beams. She turns her head slightly and winks at my father.

It is a grotesque, knowing little gesture that makes my stomach turn over, and leaves a sour taste in my mouth. It gets wrong and worse everyday in this house and I can't do much about it.

I pull my bag tighter over my shoulder and back away toward the front door. "I'm off."

"No, Florence."

Penny’s voice isn't a request. It is a cold command. Her hand wraps around my wrist with an iron grip. She yanks me back from the door and the freedom waiting beyond it.

"Today, you don't go to the farm," Penny declares, her chin up. "I've instructed your brothers to take charge of business."

"But—"

"Tsk, tsk," Penny chides, a thin finger pointed in my face. "Your father and I have decided Irene needs you beside her while she moves to the alpha's house."

I glower at her, my throat getting tighter and tighter every second. I look past Penny to my dad. He just stands there, sipping his tea, showing absolutely no compulsions, no guilt or desire to defend me.

"Dad, is this true?" I ask.

Dad looks up, a flash of confusion on his face, as if he is disconnected from the conversation.

"Is what true?"

"Is this your idea?" I ask, stepping around Penny so he has to look at me. "That I be with Irene today while she moves? Into the house that was supposed to be mine?"

A wounded, helpless look appears in his eyes. It makes him look older and frailer than he ever has. He opens his mouth, but no words come out.

"Come on, Florence," Penny interjects. She steps between us again. "You should be happy for your sister."

I take a sharp step back from her, fury boiling over inside me.

"She took what belongs to me!” I yell at her. “And you and dad are acting like this is totally okay!"

Penny rolls her eyes and sighs as if I am a toddler throwing a tantrum over a misplaced toy.

"Oh, dear, I thought you were over this thing already. It's done, Florence. Let it go!"

"No!" I blast, my fists clenched. "I won't!"

“Now, Florence,” Dad says with unnatural fatigue. "This is your sister we're talking about. Quit being this way—"

"I knew it!” Penny cuts in. “She's jealous of her! She's jealous of Irene."

Just then, Irene steps into the living room, and the breath stops in my lungs. She is wearing a tailored version of the red dress I was supposed to wear yesterday.

The fabric hugs her curves beautifully and casts a vibrant, mocking glow over her skin. She looks stunning, and the sight of her like this makes me feel dizzy. Her appearance stokes the embers of my anger into a roaring fire.

I stare at the dress, unable to look away from the stolen design.

Irene notices my gaze. A brilliantly faux innocent smile spreads her lips. She picks the hem of the skirt, performs a slow, delicate twirl and asks, "Do you like it, sister?"

Just yesterday, this same girl had sneered at me in the ball, gloating with a wicked satisfaction as she snatched Jason right out from under me. Now, she's standing here playing the part of the doting, friendly sister.

"Can you believe it?" Irene gushes, her voice a high-pitched, excited purr. "Jason gave me the specifics. He even paid for the dress himself! He told me he saw it somewhere and just knew it would suit me. Can you believe that?"

"Yes, I can," I say icily. "Because that dress is the same as the one he asked me to wear. He was going to—"

"Stop it, Florence! Just stop it!" Penny cries.

I glare at my stepmom, the heat behind my eyes intensifying. I glance at my dad, but he just groans and sinks on the couch. He looks utterly exhausted. His head lolls back on the cushions, his eyes flutter as if he’s on the verge of falling asleep right here.

Oh, God.

A chill runs down my spine. What manner of sorcery is going on in this house? In this pack?

"Now, I'm ordering you to stay by your sister,” says Penny. “She has been chosen as Luna by Jason. By full moon, Jason will be the official Alpha. Your sister will officially be Luna. Be happy for her, Florence. This is for the good of the family."

"You think?"

My jaw is aching from how hard I'm clenching it.

"Shut up!" Penny snaps.

Outside, horns blare and car engines roar.

Irene gasps, covers her mouth with both hands, her eyes widening to the size of saucers.

"They're here, Florence! They're here! Come on!" she whispers.

She lunges forward, grabs my wrist with a tight grip, and drags me toward the front door. I don't even have the energy to fight her off as she pulls me out onto the porch.

Outside, a grand motorcade stretches down our driveway. Exotic cars under the morning sun. I quickly scan the cars, my eyes searching for Jason’s lean, handsome figure, but he’s nowhere to be seen in the procession.

An omega in a dark suit comes out of the lead car and walks up the porch steps. He bows his head respectfully.

"Luna Irene,” he says, “Alpha Jason sent us to pick you up. Please, follow me to your limousine."

Irene lets out a shriek of happiness, her eyes locked on the long, midnight-black stretch limousine idling on the street.

She turns to me, her voice is a thrilled whisper. "Did you hear that, Florence? I'm going in a limousine!"

She flutters off toward the car.

I follow her. But Irene suddenly stops and looks at me. Her expression goes from happy to one of distaste. I step back, frowning.

"Florence, come on," she scoffs and tosses her curled dark hair over her shoulder. "You can't seriously think you're riding with me? I'm the Luna. I should have exclusivity, and privacy! Florence, ride with them."

“Exclusivity?”

“Uhuh. Privacy too.” She points at the other cars. “Ride with them.”

The omega clears his throat uncomfortably. "Luna, Alpha Jason explicitly asked that your sister ride with you."

"No. I am the Luna. I need my space to prepare mentally. Florence, ride with them," Irene insists.

I stare at my sister, stumped. The speed with which she switched on me is dizzying. She jumps into the back of the limousine, the door shuts off her shrieks of joy.

I stand on the gravel, dust swirling around my ankles as the limousine drives off. Despite the humiliation, a strange hope comes alive in my head.

If Jason specifically asked for me to come with Irene, then maybe something right may still happen. Maybe he hasn't completely forgotten me.

The omega gives me a sympathetic look and gestures toward a white Mazda idling a few feet away. It's a smaller car, a big downgrade from the limousine, but it’s not bad.

I swallow the remaining lump of pride in my throat, open the door, and sit. The door closes, the procession moves.