Whoever invented stilettos was a sadist.
There are a lot of things I remember disliking about these wretched pack events, but until now I forgot how agonizing it is to stand in high heels for hours on end. Of course the Alpha’s mate has to look the part, so I don’t have much of a choice. I have to cram myself into consticting, uncomfortable designer clothes and strap torture devices to my feet in order to be taken seriously.
Granted, I suppose I do look good – but at what cost?
Bastien has it easy, he’s standing next to me in the same black suit he always wears to these things. Meanwhile I’m over here gasping for air in a skin tight cocktail dress with so many straps and cutouts that I needed a map just to get into it.
Lila’s silver and black party dress matches mine in color,
