Chapter four: Her transformation

I walked into the house and a young female servant was waiting for me by the door. She was a slim frame and of the same height as me, with long flowing wavy hair, and face full of freckles. I have seen her around but we have never chatted. Like I said the entire household does their best to act like I don't exist.

"Come with me Ms Callick," she said politely with a bow of her head.

I frowned and then looked back wondering who she was adressing. There was no one behind me. Was it me she was bowing to. Okay, something is definitely wrong here.

I have never been treated with such a polite courtsey in my life before and being on the receiving end of such grace felt very weird, like I had my clothes backwards.

I turned around back to her to find her few distance away from me, and her looking back with a slightly impatient look on her face.

Now that I am used too.

I hurried up to catch up to her, relaxed a little that things aren't grossly out of place. When people that aren't nice to you suddenly starts to be nice that usually spells doom.

We started up the stairs and I wanted to remind her that we were heading the wrong way but I kept quiet. Everyone in the house knows where I sleep. My father must have left them a separate instructions today.

We walked into what used to be my former room to overhear the servants inside talking about me. They were so engrossed in their gossip that they didn't realize that we have joined them.

"I don't know why the Alpha asked us to make her look beautiful. No amount of make up will ever cover up her ugliness, and let's not forget how scrawny she looks. The alpha is going to feel like he is fucking hips and bones tonight," the servant laughed in mockery.

The two other servants who were helping set out my clothes caught notice of me and blanched red. They tried to get the other servant's attention but she was having fun at my expence.

When she finally noticed me, the look on her face was so comical. They all straightned up and cast their head down in a submissive pose, with their hands held together in front of them.

"I am sorry, Ms Callick," the servant mumbled in a low voice.

Was she? I didn't hear any trace of remorse in her voice. She was merely apologizing because I heard her. They have never minded in the past, so father must have warned them to treat me differently today.

I don't know why he would even bother. A day of kindness isn't going to wipe out years of misery and cruelty. If his intention is to make me more attractive and alluring to my groom to be he is going to fail miserably. Like the servant said I am an ugly duckling and no amount of face paint and new clothes can turn me into a beautiful swan.

"Come with me Ms Callick," the servant that I came with lead me into the bathroom where a hot bath with scented flowers awaited me.

She approached me to help me undress but I flinched away from her and covered my body protectively. The scars on my body was one that I didn't wish the servants to see.

I know trying to keep this out of their lips is futile, as they already have enough to talk about, but I wanted this last bit of dignity before my life is turned into shreds at my new pack.

"I will do it myself," I said in a hollow tone.

She opened her mouth to argue but decided against it. She walked out and left me in peace to have my bath.

I disrobed and then stepped into the water.

It was a welcoming relieve to my sore and aching muscles. Sleeping on the tree last night wasn't exactly a five star hotel.

I couldn't enjoy the bath, a luxury that I have been denied for years, having been made to bath with cold water, even in the winter by my step mother, because of what awaited me at the end of the day.

My body shuddered at the thought of it. If only I have the courage to do what is necessary. People usually think that those that commits suicide are cowards, but I think it is an act of bravery to decide to take your own life.

I didn't linger in the bath for long. When I stepped out I wrapped my body inside the big towel that was left behind and made my way back into the room.

The servants all stared when I walked in. I coughed to snap them back to reality. "Please can I have the room to get dressed?" I politely asked not looking at any of them.

The servant that mocked me, a blonde, opened her mouth to argue but the brunette that I came in with shushed her. "We will excuse you Ms callick," she said softly with a hint of sympathy in her voice.

She pulled the other servants with her. As they were walking through the door, the blonde grumbled: "What is with the sense of modesty, it is not like she has anything to be proud of."

The brunette shushed her again just before the door closed behind them.

Alone I made my way to the clothes that have been set out on the bed by the servants. I sighed at the sexy underwear that has been laid out beside the long plain red dress.

I bet this is my step mother's wicked sense of humor, not that I have any choice in the matter.

I had just slipped on the red dress, trying to zip it when a knock sounded on the door.

I made my way to the door and opened it to find two women that I haven't met before on the other side. One of them was holding a bag, and the other, the taller of the two was looking at me like I was a specimen under a microscope.

"The Luna must be expecting a miracle," she pushed her way in after making the rude remark.

The shorter woman, who had a meek deposition making me believe her to be the woman's assistant scurried in after her.

Their rudeness left me in shock for few seconds. I shot the door and turned to find the small woman running around setting up things at the barking command of the other woman.

It was immediately obvious what a bossy, and overbearing bitch the tall beautiful brunette was.

"Em, w...ho are you?"

"Jehovah wittness, who do you think, child?" She sneered haughtily before patting the chair in front of the vanity mirrow. "Come seat we have a lot to accomplish and little time to achieve it. From what I heard your groom is almost here."

My heart leaped to my throat at her careless reminder of what awaits me. She was acting as if today was a normal wedding where the girl is marrying the man of her dreams.

I did as she requested, and sat stiffly on the chair. I couldn't look at the mirrow in front of me because I already knew what I will see. I have been told so many times how ugly I was that I have come to believe it.

An ugly person doesn't need the mirror telling her twice how ugly she is.

The woman that I have now understood is a make up artist stood behind me watching my face through the mirrow with an intense concentration on her face.

My face burned at her intense regard, making me squirm nervously on the seat. Her hand came down hard on my shoulders to keep me still without a break in what she was doing.

Which I have no clue. Probably trying to find all the flaws in my face.

She stared at it for what felt like hours before she spoke, directing her assistant on what to hand to her, and then she began her tasking job of transforming my face into something to behold.

I have never had a make up on before, nor had one done on me. I couldn't sit still, and kept squirming around or blinking which irriatated the woman so much that I could feel the woman was one step away from striking me.

Finally the whole tedious ordeal was done, and the woman's over bearing presence step back away from me to check her work, giving me room to breathe.

I chanced a look at what she has done. My breathe hitched at what stared back at me. I looked...

The words got caught in my throat from the heavy emotions that clouded my eyes. I have never looked like this in my life before. It was an amazing transformation that made me feel good inside.

I have never cared for how I looked in the past. Have never cared if anyone thought me beautiful, but looking at my reflection in the mirror I yearned to be called beautiful.

It will be amazing if someone will look at me and find me attractive.

Everyone longs to be beautiful, whether they admit it or not.

"Stunning right?"

I looked up at her reflection in the mirrow to find her smirking smugly at me.

I nodded, giving credit where credit is due.

"Guess a miracle can be pulled off after all, but then again it is me. The best make up artist in town," the woman arrogantly tooted her own horn.

I saw her assistant roll her eyes at the woman's words and swallowd a smile. It was obvious the younger woman who looks to be in her early twenties doesn't care much for her boss. Not that it is surprising. The woman treats her like crap.

I chanced another marvelled look at my expression, still unable to believe the transformation. And then I remembered what this is for, and the light dimmed from my eyes. I wanted to reach up and wipe everything off. The last thing I want is for Alpha Roderick to find me attractive.

"Now what to do with your hair." the woman roughly wove her fingers through my short hair as she contemplated on what to do with it.

Rosalind had insisted that I wear my hair short to avoid an unecessary distraction.

I scoffed bitterly inside as I remembered the day she had my hair cut. That was one of the worse days of my life. My hair had been the only thing that I loved about my body. It was as black as midnight, glossy, wavy, and so long that it reached my buttom. People admired it, but out of jealousy Rosalind had them cut, selling it that she didn't want me distracted.

"I think we will go for a pam, and then you will wear a fascinator. Good thing I came with one," the woman soliquized to herself, and then got to work.

She has just finished with my hair when the door crashed open and Satan himself walked in.

"Leave us," he barked.

"But your mother..." the woman tried to argue, but Stephan shut her down rudely. "I said leave us!" he grolwed.

I wanted to plead with them not to leave me alone with him, but Stephan is the one person that you don't want to get on his bad side. Most of the pack are terrified of him and his cruelty, not that anyone will ever say it out loud.

Once the door shut behind them, Stephan turned his lewd eyes in my direction.