Chapter 187: A Dress for the Bridesmaid II
"Harper?" Dahlia’s shrill voice came from outside, causing my grip to tighten on the dress, accidentally crumpling the smooth, creaseless fabric a little. "What’s taking you so long?"
"Just a minute!" I called out, not even wishing to correct her that I had only been behind the curtain for a minute or two.
I quickly changed out of my clothes before slipping the dress on. The material was cool against my skin, and when I looked into the mirror, I couldn’t help but suck in a deep breath of air. It was truly a beautiful color, one which complemented my hair color as well. However, the marks on my shoulders were all too obvious, along with the spider web necklace that was still around my neck.
However, there was no time to waste.
I moved my hair forward, similar to the way I positioned it back during the wedding dress fitting, and I could only pray that Dahlia would move on to the next — hopefully sleeved — dress after this. At most, even if she picked this dress, perhaps a whole canister of hairspray would help to keep my hair in place for the entirety of the reception.
Opening the curtains, I stepped out, careful not to let my hair shift too much from the movement. The moment I appeared, Blaise’s jaw dropped, his eyes lighting up with delight. He itched to come over but was quickly stopped by Dahlia’s outstretched hand.
Likewise, from an angle that Dahlia could not see, Damon hissed through his teeth, his eyes trained on my body. I didn’t miss the way his eyes scanned up and down, trailing from my legs to the cinch of my waist, to the dip of my breasts, before settling on my neck where his mark was hidden behind my hair.
Thankfully, Dahlia wasn’t paying him much attention.
She, too, seemed absolutely beguiled by the dress, clapping her hands together in delight.
"You look wonderful!" she praised, a surprising comment coming from her. I waited, but there wasn’t an additional prick jabbed into her compliment.
"Thanks..." I trailed off, smiling uncomfortably.
Surely this didn’t mean that she was going to pick this dress already? It was beautiful but if I wore it, I would surely be bombarded by all sorts of people who wish to know why I had two marks on my shoulder.
"How about I try the next dress?" I asked, gesturing to a random dress she had picked out. "That one looks nice―"
"Nonsense," she said. "What’s the hurry? I think this one might actually be the perfect dress."
My heart fell at her words.
"It’s loose enough for you to do your job during the reception, but still elegant so that you wouldn’t be an embarrassment." Dahlia stood up from where she sat, slowly making her way over with a squint. "How did the dress get so creased already?"
Alarmed, I took a step back, looking down. Crap, I had totally forgotten about the marks left on the dress when I panicked previously. It was right at the chest, the lines jarringly obvious to a trained eye, much less a werewolf’s eye.
"It must’ve happened while I was putting on the dress," I said, trying to wave the matter off. "I’m sure it will be fine after some ironing or steaming."
"How did you even manage to wrinkle it while putting it on?" she asked, frowning.
When she came closer, my entire body went rigid. Her hands moved to smooth down some of the wrinkles, but when her fingers grazed the necklace on my neck, she pulled back in shock as though she had been burned.
To be fair, she was.
"What is with that necklace?" she asked, horrified.
Dahlia’s eyes went wide as she stared at the spider web necklace I wore, adorned with tiny diamonds. She hadn’t recognized its significance to Fangborne, but she could at least tell that it wasn’t a werewolf-friendly material.
"It was a gift," Blaise quickly piped up, coming over to my rescue. "It’s made of silver," he explained, "to protect Harper against werewolves if there’s ever a need."
Dahlia scowled, eyeing the necklace — and me — as though I was a piece of gum stuck on the sole of her new boot.
"Silver?" she echoed in disdain. "Well, remove it, then. We can’t have something so dangerous at my wedding."
"She can’t," Blaise said. "It’s been charmed by... the fae. Once worn, she cannot remove the necklace. It’s a form of protection. Besides," Blaise gave a sheepish smile, a faint blush coming to his face, "it’s a wedding gift from me to Harper. I couldn’t give her the wedding of her dreams, so I thought this would hopefully be a good enough compensation."
At the mention of a wedding gift, Dahlia’s eyes significantly lit up. She looked a lot calmer and surprised than annoyed, and this time, when she looked at the necklace, her gaze held a lot more appreciation than before.
I exchanged a glance with Blaise, wanting nothing more than to stick my thumb out in praise. He had so easily quelled Dahlia’s irritation that I wondered for a second if she had actually recognized the wrong Valentine brother, and Blaise was the one she had a crush on instead. At least, he seemed to understand her much better than Damon did.
"Well, I suppose there’s no helping it if that’s the case," Dahlia said, huffing under her breath. "How are the straps?" she asked. "I think it might be a little too long since it’s showing way too much of your cleavage―"
Before I could move away, her hands had pushed my hair out of the way to reveal the spaghetti straps of the dress― along with my bare shoulder. The two marks on my shoulders were now in clear view, and Blaise, Damon, and I could only watch in horror as Dahlia’s eyes widened with outrage.
Her shrill voice pierced through the room. Instantly, I felt as though I had just been dunked in the ice-cold waters of the Arctic.
"What the hell is this?!"
