dress this fancy.
At first, I gravitated toward a modest black gown, with a sweetheart neckline and ankle-length hem. Staring at it briefly, I was about to pull it from the hanger when a surge of annoyance filled me. Shadow, once again, was forcing his will on me. He didn’t ask if I wanted to have dinner with him; he just demanded.
I would not slink in there like a demure mouse, under the thumb of her captor. Nope. Fuck that. The black dress was returned and in its place I chose a fiery red number that would normally clash with my hair. But, in this case, it was actually a perfect ombre match, starting dark at the plunging neckline before fading to a light strawberry near the hem.
Flawless. Not that I expected anything less from this magical place.
So my dress was sorted, and I was going all out with the rest as well. For the first time in days, my hair would come out of its scraggly bun, and I’d finally break out some of the fancy makeup in my drawers. Shadow wanted me at this dinner, and he was going to get me. Every fucking primped and perfected inch.
It was time to remind Shadow that I was no one’s pet.
26
“What the fuck?” I growled, dropping the makeup brush with a clatter onto the bench.
How did other women make this shit look so easy? I was starting to sympathize with Simone and her braids. Hair and makeup were hard, and unless I wanted to show up looking like a clown, it was best to just wipe everything off and start again.
By the time I was done, my face was mostly bare, with just a little darkening across my eyeline, some mascara, a touch of red on the cheeks, and deep rich red lipstick. That would have to do.
My hair, though, was working for me for once… Thank the Shad—
Actually, screw that. I was thanking no one.
Perfect curls cascaded down my back as I slipped into the red gown, and when I couldn’t get the zip secured, I called for Inky, who was waiting in my bedroom.
“Inky! Buddy, can you get in here and help?”
The swirls of dark smoke slid under the door and I tried not to freak at how creepy it looked. Inky is our friend. Or frenemy at least.
“I can’t get the zip done up,” I said, talking to smoke like it was a living, breathing entity. “Can you help me?”
Icy chills traced across the bare skin of my back—I couldn’t wear a bra with this style—as Inky drifted closer. When Inky touched me there was no pain, just an icy electric zap over my skin. It had no issue zipping me up, and just like all the other clothing from here, the dress fit as if it had been custom made.
One absolute truth of my time spent here—there was no way I could go back to buying my clothes off the rack.
With a final glance in the mirror, I smiled at my reflection. I seriously had to dress up more than once every twenty-plus years. Don’t get me wrong. Jeans, shirts, and mom buns were my jam, but there was something to be said about stepping into some glamour on occasion.
Tonight was my night.
Pulling on the matching heels that had been provided, I wobbled around for a minute before finding my balance. When I was ready, I left my room and entered the lair. It was fitting that a beast would have a “lair” and I wondered if there would come a point in which I’d get to see his real beast. Did Shadow actually have a furrier side?
Walking toward the veil, I realized I had no idea where this dinner was being held. The only place for eating that I knew of was in the hall, and I doubted that was what Shadow had meant when he’d had Gaster demand my presence at dinner. Especially not with the style of clothing I’d been provided.
When I neared the fireplace, I heard a deep burst of laughter and about died. My hand dropped to my stomach, trying to calm what felt like a thousand butterflies having a rave. Laughter?
I’d never heard Shadow actually laugh, not in an open and relaxed manner like that. It was disarming, and enticing, and completely unnerving. Who was with him causing this sort of happiness?
Unable to help myself, curiosity hammering in my chest, my stomach still a mess, I moved forward, my heels clicking