CHAPTER 11

North Pack

Firmly wrapping his hands around Flora's that were on his chest, Dylan removed her hands and stepped away from her. He needed to know if Flora was still loyal to him. Ashera playing damsel in distress, had a way of getting under the skin of weak people but he wasn't one of them. Flora, on the other hand, he could not trust her completely.

"You both should continue your conversation like I was not here. I need to hear the rest." He commanded.

"But Dylan-" Flora countered, ready to defend herself.

"Now!" He roared, causing Flora to immediately take a few steps back while Ashera flinched.

"Let's start with you." He said, pointing to Ashera. "Repeat what you said before I came in."

Bracing herself, she faced Flora and spoke in a calmer voice "So you're going to play dumb? He raped you and you still allow him to use you."

Taking two steps at a time, Flora backhanded her. "How dare you repeat yourself? Do you have no respect for your Alpha?"

Ashera held her cheek as she stuttered "But-"

"No buts. Apologize for what you said right now. Dylan and I are in love. How dare you insult him by saying he's using me." Flora shouted, then turned to Dylan, and wrapped her hands around his.

"I would never listen to this slut. You know that. You're everything to me." She whispered sensually.

Satisfied, Dylan pulled her close to his side, then faced Ashera "Clean yourself up. We need to start preparations for my father's memorial and you need to practise your role in it."

Ashera nodded in response.

"I have told you countless times. You speak when I'm talking to you." Dylan said, raising his voice.

"I will do as you have commanded," Ashera replied, keeping her voice steady.

"Baby, we have enough time before the memorial. She still needs to learn her place before she can participate." Flora purred.

"Learning her place comes hand in hand with the preparations. I won't have her mess anything up with her naiveity" Dylan replied.

Grabbing Flora's waist, they walked out of Ashera's room together. Ashera stood up and went to the bathroom to wash her face. Staring at the red welts on her cheek that Flora gifted her with, she pulled herself together. She needed to be stronger and start thinking of only herself if she wanted to survive. Flora would no sooner leave Dylan than slit her throat. She should stop believing a cold woman like Flora could feel empathy for anyone even if she was being treated the same way.

She walked back to her room and found an ice pack waiting for her on the dresser. She wondered who could have left it there.

Did Flora send someone? No, it was impossible for her to feel pity for the pain she intentionally inflicted on herself. This must have been one of Dylan's orders or someone else kind enough to bring her something to ease her pain.

Placing the ice pack over her throbbing cheek, she sat across the dresser and twirled her hair in her hands. Never in a million years did she think she would end up here but her bad luck continued to be a plague, throughout her life.

Hearing shuffling footsteps, she braced herself in case Dylan was back, but it was just one of the maids.

"I have been asked to escort you to the dressmaker." She said politely.

"Asked by whom?" Ashera asked, even though she knew the answer already.

"The Alpha." She replied, confirming her suspicions.

Dropping the ice pack with a thud, she straightened her dress and turned to the maid. "Let's go."

As Ashera walked behind the maid to the dressmaker, she got various looks from members of the pack. Some looked at her with disdain. She guessed those were the ones who did not like seeing their Alpha with anyone from another pack, while some also gave her curious looks.

She could guess various questions were running in their heads, but she knew they would always be loyal to their Alpha. Her previous plan had a hole in it. Dylan, even as monstrous as he is, commanded loyalty and love amongst his pack members.

They would kill and die for him if they had to. A feeling of loneliness brushed against her skin. She has never had loyalty or love from anyone. Only hatred and disdain and she could not help the sadness that washed over her. She was not even a monster like Dylan was but she still didn't have anything he had. There was no reward for someone who killed her mother.

"We are here." The maid called, breaking her away from her thoughts.

"Is this the woman I have been ordered to get dressed for?" A shrill voice called from the door to what looked like a closet.

She was beautiful and young. When their eyes met, her green eyes widened in recognition and turned mean. This woman knew her or she had heard of her. This was not what she had in mind when they mentioned a dressmaker. 

"You can leave." She said, turning to the maid.

The maid bowed to her and left.

Flipping her long black hair, she walked towards Ashera and spat "So you're Dylan's new mistress."

"I'm not." Ashera retorted without thinking.

Eyes twinkling, the dressmaker mocked, "If you're not, then what title did he give you? Luna?"

Ashera ignored her jab and asked. "Do you know me?"

"No, but I have heard of you. I'm Isa. I belong to Dylan too." She replied proudly.

"What was it about Dylan that made a woman act like this?" Ashera thought to herself.

"You can have him for all I care. What am I doing here?" She countered.

"I don't mind your rudeness because I know Dylan will fix that," Isa replied, smirking. Then she walked into the closet and came back out with a tall figurine wrapped in bright red fabric. 

Pulling her measuring tape out of her pocket, she said "Dylan ordered me to make you new dresses according to his taste. Prepare yourself because you will be spending a lot of time with me."

Ashera didn't know which was worse, having to spend time with one of Dylan's mistresses and endure Isa sewing her dresses she was sure would not cover half of her body or being left to her own thoughts.

She picked the earlier option. At least Isa could not hurt her, except Dylan gave the order. She and Isa had something in common after all. They both had no power over themselves.