Clothes and a Reading

Morning sunshine shone through the window the next morning, bright in Lacey's eyes, nearly blinding her, alerting her to the start of a new day. But when she stretched, everything from the night before came rushing back.

After Julien stormed out, she ate the steak, potato, and vegetables he had brought for her. At least he hadn’t thrown it on the floor when he saw her with the tablet. She had been so hungry that she practically stuffed herself with the food, feeling nearly like a street urchin wanting to eat everything while she could.

At least he had brought her food.

Now that they were pledged, this was technically her pack, too. And if she let him run over her, the rest of the pack would think it was allowed. With wolves, dominance must be asserted… or you become an underling. And Lacey Taregan was no underling.

Lacey sat up, realizing she was still wearing her sister's hand-me-down red dress from the night before. But first thing’s first. She needed a shower. She checked to make sure the door was locked, and it had been locked from the outside. It was just as well.

Lacey stripped off the dress, and then realized that the curtains were open. Below, three male shifters looked up, grinning. One of the shifter with dark blond hair, who had been sitting at the table down from Julien, looked up and a cocky grin lit his lips.

"Oh no!" Lacey quickly covered herself and pulled the curtain closed. "If Julien found out, he'd kill all three of the male shifters below, and then he'd kill her for good measure. He gave a new meaning to the word jealous.

Lacey shook her head and headed to the bathroom and quickly showered, relieved that she had a private bathroom and shower. From the look of it, neither she nor Julien were about to back down. So, she was sure that she'd be spending a lot of time in her room. After her shower, she donned a pair of dressy gray long pants, snug in the waist but loose in the legs, a white silk chemise, and then threw on a dressy white wrap. It was casual enough for home, but dressy enough if anyone came over. It was one of her only outfits that wasn't cutoff jeans and a crop top. She sighed, knowing it would be a while before Julien would allow her to hunt, so there wouldn’t be any need for cutoffs yet.

She looked down from the window, considering. It wasn't that far of a jump. But then again, five stories up was too high to land on concrete. But if she attempted the jump, she would have to do it on grass from the other small window or sneak out down the stairwell. But the Harvest Moon Pack was so large that someone was sure to see her. Also, if she did decide to sneak out, she would need to do it at night. Lacey sighed. It was terrible having to consider sneaking out of her own house. But if Julien didn't let her out to run soon, her wolf would go stark raving mad.

She was sitting at the small wooden table setting in front of the window weighing her options when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Lacey knew full well that it wasn't Julien. He would have just barge in without knocking. And Gwen probably had a key. But it was probably her, checking to see if she was decent before barging in. Lacey smirked, wishing that Julien would do the same.

"Princess Taregan, it's me, Gwen," her voice carried through the door. "I have someone with me."

Lacey folded her arms across her chest, standing in the center of the room. "Come in."

The sound of turning locks came from the door. When it opened, a woman with caramel skin, wearing a turban, was standing in the doorway. The woman was dressed elegantly in a calf-length dress with an African motif. It wouldn't have been what Lacey would have chosen, but it suited this woman to perfection. She held what looked to be a brown leather portfolio. She studied Lacey, tilting her head to the side.

"Please, come in," Lacey said, stepping out of the way. "My name is Princess Lacey Taregan."

"Oh, I know." The woman held her head high, having a regal air. "You are a wolf, are you not?"

Lacey narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

Gwen stepped forward, folding her hands in front of her. "This is Madame Pomeroy, your clothing designer. We're here to take your measurements and to discuss your new wardrobe."

"Oh?" Lacey looked back at the woman as what Gwen just said finally registered. "Oh! Please, come in!"

The woman walked in, appearing to glide across the floor, stopping beside the small table. The woman gave Lacey a slight smile as she gestured toward one of the chairs. "May I?"

"Oh! of course!" Lacey said, pulling the chair out for her, although she wasn't sure why. This woman had a mystical aura about her. Lacey sat in the opposite chair. Gwen looked around nervously, and then sat on the bed.

Sitting with her back straight, not touching the chair’s back and looking very poised, she looked over at Gwen. "Leave us."

"Yes, ma'am." Gwen started to leave, but Lacey stopped her.

"Hold on," Lacey interjected. "Whatever you have to say to me, you can say before Gwen."

The peculiar woman turned her head toward Lacey. "What I have to say is for your ears only." Then she turned back to Gwen. "Leave us... please." Even though she had just met Gwen, Lacey already knew that she could trust her.

Gwen looked at Lacey, silently asking her permission.

Lacey nodded. "I'll be fine."

“As you wish.” Gwen left the room, closing the door behind her.

When they were alone, Lacey folded her hands on top of the table. "Now. What’s so important that not even my maid can hear?"

Madame Pomeroy smoothed her hand over the leather portfolio lying on the table. "I have some designs to show you, but I have information for you, too."

"Which is?" Lacey was very close to telling this woman to leave, too.

"I am a seer...." She leaned in for effect. "A psychic, if you will."

"Oh-kay." Lacey dragged out the word. She had met a lot of strange supernatural characters in her time, but this was a new one. It was clear that this woman was a one of a kind. Lacey decided to play along, leaving forward conspiratorially. "You mean... like a witch?"

Madame Pomeroy smiled, inclining her shoulders. "Yes.”

Lacey nodded, folding her hands again, having had met few witches in her day. And the witches she had known could be trusted.

"So, what message do you have for me?"

The woman shoved the portfolio toward her across the table. "You look and listen. I'll talk." Then she looked directly into her eyes. "But you must swear to me that what I say stays in this room."

Lacey opened the portfolio and the sketches were gorgeous. The clothes were exquisite. But what really caught her eye was that the model she had drawn looked exactly like her. A crease formed between her eyes. "Is this… me?"

The woman shrugged, smiling. "A little flair never hurt anyone." Then she placed her hand atop Lacey's and raised her eyebrows. "May I?"

Lacey nodded. "Yes. Of course." Wow! Clothes and a psychic reading from a witch all at once. It was her lucky day.

The woman's gaze was fixed on something that wasn't there as a crease formed between her eyes. "You will endure many trials along your path."

Lacey smiled. “I know the "many trials" part quite well already.”

The woman patted her hand and released her, smiling at her. “Everything will work out. Don’t worry.” Then, she leaned in conspiratorially. "You're doing the right thing. Don't back down."

Lacey narrowed her eyes. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

Madame Pomeroy chuckled. "Oh, I think you do." Then she leaned in conspiratorially. "You’re no one to trifle with, and neither am I.” Then she tilted her head to the side. “If you're wondering, he's a good man, but he has a lot of demons… as do you." The woman patted her hand, satisfied. "Once you both deal with your demons, then your path will be clear."

"And if we can't?"

The woman's eyes suddenly looked dead. "Then God help you."