Chapter 69 Ava: Sister Miriam (I)

Mom's fingers deftly twist and turn my hair, pinning it into some sort of elaborate style. Her touch is clinical, devoid of any maternal warmth, as she secures each lock into place with sharp tugs.

She's been doing this for hours, trying to figure out the best style for the mating ceremony. The only comfort I have is in knowing she'll never have the chance to dress me as planned.

"Honestly, Ava, couldn't you have made more of an effort with your appearance?" she chides, as disapproving as always. "Your hair is little better than a rat's nest."

This is something she's said at least three other times in the hour she's been here. I bite back the retort that hovers on my tongue, knowing better than to provoke her ire.

A musical jingle causes her to pause, and she checks something on her phone for a second, before returning to her project. "It's a good thing your worth isn't tied to your looks," she continues, her words cutting deeper than any physical blow. "You should be grateful that Alpha Renard has deigned to mate with you, despite your deficiencies."

There's a little chip in the paint of the wall above the mirror, and my eyes are drawn toward it. It's something to focus on as I tune out her nagging and cruel remarks. For a woman who's capable of so much love toward her older children, it's amazing how much vitriol she can throw at another.

If I wasn't positive I were her child by birth, I would definitely assume I'm adopted.

"But, Ava," she warns me, still yanking and tugging, "Don't let it go to your head. The title of Luna is not for the likes of you. You'll be a mate in name only. It's still an honor, but the pack can never have a blemish as its figurehead."

It's a struggle to maintain my composure, to keep the bitter resentment from showing on my face.

she presses, looking into the mirror so I'm forced to meet her gaze. She's almost manic in her quest for my acquaintance. "This is your duty, your obligation to the pack. You will mate with Alpha Renard, and you will bear his children. That is the extent

a puppet on strings. My mind, however,

the freedom to return to the Aspen pack, I'll contact Lisa. We'll run

interrupting my mother's nagging monologue. An older woman with an elegant bearing and a bright, unsettling gleam in her eyes enters the room. She

Her eyes are a dark, glittering red and her hair is black without the faintest sheen of color in its highlights, adding to the otherworldly presence

look of respect crossing her features. "Sister Miriam," she greets the stranger. "What an honor to have you grace

thin. "The honor is mine, Grace. Alpha Renard requested my expertise in a delicate matter." Her inhuman stare settles on me, sending prickles of unease over my

I had hackles, they'd be

predator. She's an existence that's dangerous even to wolves. I can feel it, even if I don't know what she

tense. She's affected, too. "Alpha Renard said you would be able to

my neck, and I avert my gaze, suddenly unable to meet Sister Miriam's probing stare. I don't know what she

as she approaches. "I am the most skilled in detecting the earliest signs of breeding. The alpha can rest

in the mirror. Her smile is wide, her teeth too white. It looks unnatural on

way that should be soothing, and yet paired

close contact. It's like my skin burns where she touches, but when I try

she murmurs, letting go to trail her hand down my neck, across my collarbone, down my chest and finally coming to rest on

"No."

I flinch. Though her hands are cold, an unwelcome heat eats at my skin. It

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