Isabel's Choice

Chapter 43 - Isabel

I make another desperate attempt at stretching my back, but my mother Astrid pushes my head forward, into my mother Selma's hands which are greedily waiting to continue fixing my hair.

"Mothers, please, I am sure it's perfect," I whine. They have been holding me captive in this room since the crack of dawn, overdosing me with skincare and make-up.

"Stand still, gorgeous pup." Astrid coos, spraying some more mysterious beauty products on my intricate bun.

"Raya, please save me!" I turn to my friend who is leaning against a table behind me, pretending that she's assisting Alejandra in ironing my dress. In reality, Finn's spawn is not doing anything, because the Eagle Rock Luna is fiercely protective of her work.

I haven't seen the final outcome either - the many layers of silk have been cut and sewed secretly by her and her crew. The dark crescents under her eyes testify to how she whipped out a formal gown in two weeks. 

"Sorry, Isabel, no can do. I had to promise to be on their side, for them to allow me to spend the morning with you," Raya laughs and I am flattered that she chose to be here instead of lingering in Eino's arms.

"Let my freckles be, mom!" My fingers hide my nose, protecting what Lars calls the Delight Constellation. He counted them - there are thirty-seven and I very much want to leave them exposed for him to kiss later.

I squeal with relief when Ale looks at her watch and then points at the black dress which is now waiting quietly on a velvet-covered hanger.

"So, Isabel, it's time to get dressed."

As my mothers help me slip into it, I sigh with delight at the feeling of cool silk against my skin. The gathered skirt rests nicely over multiple rustling underskirts, stopping just above my knees.

The fitted bodice is embroidered with my mate's claw marks, a perfect counterpart to the ones I have left on his skin.

"How did you get this pattern?" I ask, running my fingers over the contours of the shiny stitching.

"It was a team effort," Ale laughs, pleased with my reaction, "The Northern lady here took a picture of Eino's arm after one training session with your mate." The Eagle Rock Luna and Raya exchange a happy fist-bump and I tear up, much to my make-up-wielding mothers' despair. It's hard to feel worthy of wearing something so beautiful, something that holds in its weave little pieces of my new family's soul.

There is only one female missing from our group hug, but that is OK, because she presented her excuses last night for not attending this part of my ceremony day.

***

We had a lively dinner while the males were out hunting. The mated females reminisced about their bond stories, sharing also some details that made my ears burn with embarrassment.

All except Ayn.

She was silent and distracted, not even bothering to hide that she was mind-linking someone from time to time. She only seemed to pay attention to the conversation around her when my mother Astrid, in her usual filterless way, asked Ale whether she plans to have pups anytime soon. The Eagle Rock Luna answered that Sven wants to get his wings first and Ayn frowned, before going back to whatever conversation she had in her mind.

I expected her to be the first to leave but when the table was cleared she asked for a word with me. Alone.

"Please, have a seat," I invited her once we were in the privacy of my office.

"Thanks, but I think I need to stand for this one," she refused politely, her hands briefly clutching her rose quartz pendant. "Isa, as your mate's mother, I am expected to say the blessing for your bond."

I nodded enthusiastically at her obvious statement, but then my head broke its movement abruptly when I heard her next words.

"The thing is that, I have been arguing with Kari about it the whole evening. And, despite what he thinks...I can't. I don't want to."

"What?! Why?"

"Because you deserve better than to be blessed by a witch who doesn't have a direct line to your Moon Goddess and who also tried to kill your birth mother."

Her words wrapped around me like barbed wire, and my wolf ascended. Not to bristle at her judgment of my birth pack, but to comfort me, to shield me from the anxiety overlords that were attempting resurrection.

"Your father and his ranked members were scum," Ayn continued plainly, "but your mother was kind. She was just trapped in a bond that her mate's weakness was slowly destroying."

"Even so," she added with a shrug, "I had no qualms in instrumentalizing her, to get Lars and myself out of there. And frankly, Isa, I don't really regret it. I thought many times if I made the right choice. And it took me many years to realize that there weren't any choices to make. Losing Lars was not a choice. Death is not a choice. "

Willow whined impolitely, and loudly, her sound vibrating through my throat and in the air around us. She wanted out, to lick the hands of this powerful female who had just told me with human words what my wolf had been trying to explain to me since Owen had stolen my mark.

Tears flooded my face as the realization that we really didn't choose him finally sunk into me organically, erasing old guilt and shame from my mind, relaxing my ribs just a little bit more, and creating a little bit more space for me to breathe.

My crying however confused the witch who stretched an arm to comfort me, before changing her mind halfway and letting it fall at her side.

"I didn't mean to upset you. I actually spoke to someone who would be happy to take my role in the ceremony..."

"Ayn." I stopped her, trying to contain my sobs. "Now we are here," I threw at her the line her sons have hammered into my head. "I don't need apologies from you and, in my turn, I will not offer any for being born from rogues. Still, I don't want to be blessed by anyone else, other than my mate's mother. It's tradition."

Ayn looked at me stunned. In all truth, I was also a little bit surprised at my bluntness and my heart let out a worried thud in the silence that followed.

"Are you sure? Because my alternative proposal was really cool," she tested me half-heartedly.

"Please," I offered her my hands, and she rested her tiny ones on them. 

"If it's your wish, it will be my honor," Ayn smiled, and then raised a finger between us. "However, I would like to be excused from your prep rituals and I am not yielding on this one. You have two mothers for that and, as you may remember, I don't do mornings."

I laughed and told her that she can have her beauty sleep. The witch nodded gratefuly and then she gently squeezed my hand, whispering shyly:

"Please be kind to him, Isa. He's an Alpha and he can bleed a lot without lasting damage, but I am hoping that...he maybe doesn't have to do it often."

"He won't have to. At all," I promised, hugging her and she let herself into it, wrapping her delicate arms properly around my shoulders. When I finally released her, her lips curled up exactly how those of Lars' do when he's planning mischief. 

"Now, as a witch mother, I am supposed to offer you a present made with my craft. Any wishes?"

***

I had a wish and, by the Goddess, she delivered.

A crown of forget-me-nots with a crazy rich bloom is waiting on the table. Most people would think I chose them because they are blue, like the River. I did because their shade matches that of Lars's eyes when he's doing magic in wolf form. When he's on one of those bridges in his mind, completely content.

I ask my mother Selma to place the braided flowers on my head, afraid that, if I do it myself, I will move a hair strand in the wrong direction and they will make me sit down again for another hour.

And then the females leave to join their mates, while I wait in my room for mine.