2. Chapter 2
Ivy
The dress didn’t fit properly. I stared at myself in the mirror while Mara pinned the back for the third time, the silver fabric hanging awkwardly around my waist. The gown had originally belonged to Arabella and was over four years old. She’d given it to me this morning with a look of disdain.
“You can probably make it work.” She said before tossing it at me.
I smoothed trembling fingers over the material.
It was still beautiful, and better than anything in my closet.
But it wasn’t meant for me. My family had to dress me up now.
They couldn't have me showing up in simple clothes that might embarrass them on a public stage with all eyes on them.
I let Mara try one more time to make the dress work before just accepting that it would look a little off on me.
That was alright - all eyes would be on Arabella anyway.
I grabbed a can of descenter, spraying a third layer all over my skin.
One thing that my family found unforgivable was if I let out any scent anywhere around Arabella.
It caused her to go into a complete omega fit, and one thing no one wanted was dealing with a furious Arabella.
In public though, both of us were forbidden to allow any perfuming. Our fathers found it tacky.
My scent glands were defective, anyway. My scent manifested unusually - it only really bloomed strongly during emotional intimacy, when I really liked and trusted someone.
It never normally came out during introductions, and when it did, it was weak and defective.
Between the extra suppressants I took and my defective glands, I wasn’t too worried anyone could smell anything regarding me.
That was partly why I was so interested in scents and fragrances as products - they could do for me what I couldn’t do for myself.
Downstairs, I could hear the excited voices of my family as they made final preparations for the gala. I was waiting until the last possible moment to go down, knowing that this would be an awkward parade of supposed family unity when, in reality, it was just another celebration of Arabella.
Mara fixed my hair, pushing a few strands in place before stepping back.
“There,” she said. “You look beautiful.” I knew Marta thought so, but the objective reality was that I wasn’t.
I paled in comparison to most omegas, but especially next to my stepsister.
Still, Mara’s kindness made something inside me ache.
She had been loyal to my mother, who hired her long ago.
That loyalty passed to me, and though Mara didn’t say it out loud, I could see in her eyes that she didn’t care for the newest members of our family.
“Thank you,” I whispered, and stepped back to look in the mirror. The dress was ill-fitting, and my dark hair was plain and in its normal style. I had enough makeup to try, but not enough to actually look like I would stand out. Good enough, I suppose.
“Ivy!” A voice called down from below. “Come down! Don’t make us late!” I sighed and picked up my purse. I just had to get through this.
I followed the sound of voices down toward the main foyer, fingers tightening around the skirt of my dress with every step.
Downstairs, our house had been opened for guests of Arabella - mostly socialites and influencers.
They gathered around as they took photos, and several photographers were there to take pre-event photos before we were transported to the gala itself.
And in the center of everything stood Arabella.
She wore gold silk tonight, the color wrapped around her body perfectly like she was royalty.
A diamond necklace glittered at her throat, emphasizing her unbonded status.
Her pale hair cascaded down behind her in perfect waves while cameras flashed around her.
I could understand why no one ever looked beyond her. She was stunning.
“Can you believe it? A collaboration with Pack Vale!” Arabella sighed, and the other girls fawned around her. “I mean, they aren’t just super rich, they are also so damn dreamy!” She said, lifting her hand to her forehead.
One of her friends, a semi-popular influencer, cozied up to her side. “I can’t believe you get to work so closely with them! God, could you imagine if they end up courting you?” She wondered, and the other girls chittered.
“They’d be stupid not to!” Another one said, and the group nodded and agreed as Arabella smiled and basked in their praise.
I rolled my eyes at the over-the-top display of flattery.
Arabella was used to being courted by some of the hottest packs around, and I was sure if she set her eyes on Pack Vale, they’d be next.
She had her eyes on the prize, a truly influential pack with more resources than my family had.
Arabella spotted me, and her smile flickered. “Ah, there you are,” she said, walking towards me like she owned the house. She pretty much did - I was basically a guest at this point. “Honestly, Ivy, you disappear every time other people are around.”
Of course I did, that was what made them happy and made my life easier.
“I was helping Mara upstairs,” I said, trying my best not to get any attention from her group of friends.
“Mm.” Her gaze swept over my dress. “See? With enough effort, anyone can clean up.” I swallowed back a response and nodded. One of the photographers looked toward me. Arabella immediately looped her arm through mine before he could move.
“My sister hates photos,” she laughed lightly. “Don’t you?” She asked, her gaze hitting me with a warning to comply. I nodded, heat rising to my face as the photographer smiled awkwardly.
“Alright, gotcha,” he said, turning away to get more pictures of the other girls, who so far had not noticed my presence.
“We leave in five minutes!” Clara said, entering the room and raising her hands to get everyone’s attention.
She wore an expensive emerald colored dress and was adorned in probably more diamonds than even Arabella - that was usual for her.
All the money the company made seemed to go toward luxuries for her and Arabella.
She glanced around, smiling at everyone until she spotted me.
Then she hurried over, lowering her voice as she spoke to me.
“Ivy, darling,” She began, and I knew something worse was coming.
She only used terms of endearment when she had to say something negative to me in front of others.
“The limo is completely at capacity. You know Arabella - she invited all of her friends. Would you mind if we had you arrive in a separate car? You’ll still get there in time.
” Of course, Arabella didn’t want me riding to the gala with her friends.
But I didn’t want to ride with them, either.
“I don’t mind,” I said, and Clara looked relieved.
“Perfect! Go ahead and follow Alec to the car, then.” Alec was the personal driver who worked for our family.
I saw him waiting and turned to follow him as he led the way.
Alec was pretty quiet, which I appreciated.
I was in no mood to talk to anyone. Arabella and her friends quickly made a line to get into the limo while Alec held open the door of an SUV, where I would be riding by myself.
I stepped inside, watching the others laughing and practically bouncing in anticipation.
I used to have friends once - before Clara and Arabella joined the family.
But after they arrived, sleepovers were canceled, or I was told my friends were too disruptive to come over.
When Arabella had friends over, I would try to socialize, but she would cut me out or always have me running tasks for her, bringing them soda or snacks.
Even when I made a new friend, Arabella would take over, her charismatic personality and eventual fame making her a bigger draw for a friend than me.
Over time, I stopped trying. Arabella and Clara had told me so many times that I was clumsy, shy, and socially awkward, so it was easier to just accept that and lean into it than fight against them.
And so that’s what I became. An introvert who excelled at product development and had no friends.
Life was so much smoother once I let them win.
Anyway, I didn’t mind. Being in the lab made me feel closer to my mom, who was one of the few people I knew who had loved me unconditionally.
My thoughts were interrupted by Alec as we pulled up to the gala.
Bright light spread out across the massive building, illuminating the long stretch of red carpet that was rolled down the front steps.
The Vale Labs Gala looked like a movie premiere.
Luxury cars lined the drive while cameras flashed nonstop.
The moment Arabella’s limo pulled ahead of us, the energy outside shifted instantly.
Reporters clamored forward as she stepped onto the carpet in her gold dress, posing while her friends gathered around her.
She took a moment, smiling at everyone as she basked in the attention.
I reached for the SUV door handle automatically, but Alec stopped me gently.
“Miss Clara asked me to bring you through the staff entrance,” he said apologetically, which somehow made it sting even more.
While Arabella and her friends strode down the carpet surrounded by cameras and admiration, Alec steered the SUV away from the glowing front entrance toward the back side of the building, where catering vans and security staff hung around the back doors.
The glamour vanished, and Alec walked me inside through the building, quietly and discreetly, as if I were not supposed to be there.