Cressida POV
Eliza's message was on my phone before I'd even woken up, timestamped around dawn. She likely sent the text before going to bed, following the nocturnal preference that most werewolves shared for the sake of bathing in the light of the moon.
I feel less of a draw to the moon than other werewolves, from what I can tell. I might as well be a human with better vision and strength.
But Eliza's text is open on my phone before my tired brain is awake enough to check the preview and see what she wants. And now it's too late to pretend I never saw it because my read receipts are on.
This isn't the first time read receipts have betrayed me fully and without remorse, but I only remember them after the fact. Then, I'm too occupied by something else and end up forgetting to turn them off. It's a vicious cycle of my own making.
Eliza is one of Aaron's assistants. Not his right hand, but close enough to be considered part of his inner circle. Which means she doesn't particularly like me.
That's fine. I don't particularly like her either. So, we're even.
She's asking me to meet her at Stitch Please tomorrow. Or rather, she's telling me that I have to meet her there tomorrow.
Stitch Please is a boutique in our territory run by Ronnie, a werewolf with a passion for style who grew fed up with the constant questions from human tailors when she needed clothing repairs done because her strength is greater than the fabric and stitches, and most werewolves have the same issue.
So, she learned about sewing and fashion design, found she actually enjoys it, and opened her own shop here. Handmade clothing, alterations, and no-questions-asked repair services. Her work is good enough and her lack of judgment comforting enough that even humans and other inhumans come to her shop.
I like Ronnie, but mostly I envy her. She found a path she enjoys and one that benefits the pack. For any werewolf that isn't an alpha or the rare Luna, that's the ideal life.
Looking at Eliza's texts again, I scroll down to see the most recent one that she sent shortly after demanding I meet with her.
Ah, well. That makes sense.
Because this is a political marriage, the pack is providing my dress. It's the least they can do, really, and it's a detail that I forgot about, considering I'm not exactly an enthusiastic bride. Aaron probably wants to make sure I'm not too much of an embarrassment, and this gives him the chance to appear supportive.
I put my phone back on the nightstand and roll over. With the update that I'm getting a dress, I realize that I've given almost no thought to the wedding itself. I've been focused on surviving after the wedding as a failed werewolf in a new pack.
Honestly, I think that's reasonable. The wedding will only last a matter of hours. Surviving after it will be a full-time job.
But now that Eliza texted me, I can't stop thinking about the actual event. Not the wait leading up to it. Not the unknown amount of time after it that will have me impatiently counting the days until I can get a divorce. The ceremony.
And I realize that I have no idea what the ceremony will be like.
I've been to weddings, but they were all normal weddings. Relatives. Other pack members. Family friends. One was for an older coworker shortly after I was hired, which was exciting for me to see since it was a human wedding. Except I found that weddings for humans aren't that different from the werewolf weddings I attended. I think after we let ourselves be known alongside the other inhumans, we adopted more human customs.
Not that I'm doing more than guessing on the topic. The truth is that I don't feel as connected to werewolf culture as others do. Why would I when my own pack tolerates me at best?
I have a feeling nobody's going to fill me in on what I don't know before the wedding.
Looking at the dimming screen of my phone, it feels like it's mocking me now that I understand how much I don't know. With a tap, it wakes back up, and Eliza's text is still there. Unchanged.
Cressida: Okay.
I send that one word and close out of my messaging app. What else am I supposed to say? Eliza may have requested that I meet her tomorrow, but the reality is that she's ordering me to meet her.
With a sigh, I flip my phone over and leave it face down on the nightstand before rolling over and pulling my quilt high enough to cover my head. How nice it would be to stay like this. Just exist in warmth and softness without worrying about the world outside.
Then, it occurs to me that Luka might let me live that kind of sloth life when we're married. It's a political marriage. I'm meant to be a burden for him while his pack deals with succession issues.
Doing absolutely nothing would be the best way for me to help him.
What bothers me the most is not knowing. I've been dropped into the middle of a power struggle I have no business being a part of, and I don't know what my role is supposed to be.
Aaron would know that I'm not a troublemaker, so that almost certainly wasn't part of the reason I'm being forced into this marriage. Unless he omitted that detail when arranging it with the Harvest Moon Pack's leader, but why would he?
If that's true, then they aren't expecting me to distract Luka by causing issues and making him seem incompetent because he can't handle a single failed werewolf, much less an entire pack.
Then what?
The more I think about it, the more I don't understand their goal. I just wanted to keep my head down and help my family, who could've abandoned me when I was marked as a failure, but chose not to. I never asked to be thrown into the middle of someone else's mess.
If I'm lucky, I'll learn something new from Eliza tomorrow, but I don't know her well enough to ask questions and pry without raising her suspicion.
Is waiting and seeing really my only option?