"I don't feel like I stood up to her," I admitted, my legs suddenly unsteady. "I feel like I'm about to collapse."
"Here." Viola guided me to a nearby bench, making me sit down. "Breathe. Just breathe. You did amazing, Daphne. Seriously."
I dropped my head into my hands, trying to slow my racing heart. The encounter replayed in my mind—every cutting word, every veiled threat, every moment I'd forced myself to not retreat, not apologize, not make myself smaller to appease her anger.
"She's escalating," I said quietly to Viola who gave a small hum at my words. "I think the dead plant was just the beginning."
"Which is exactly why you need to tell the pack tonight," Viola told me with a determined tone in her voice, "They need to know what they're dealing with. And Daphne? What Trinity said—about you not being pack material, about them not really wanting you—that's bullshit. She's trying to get in your head."
"It's working," I admitted my voice low as I wrapped my arms around my middle as if holding myself together. "Because what if she's right? What if I am making a mistake?"
Viola grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. "Listen to me. Trinity is jealous, spiteful, and apparently unstable enough to send threatening packages. Nothing she says is trustworthy. Trinity's words? Those are just poison."
I took a deep breath as I gave a small nod. Trinity’s words had made me pause and rethink things again…but I can’t let her do that. She wanted the guys to herself…she probably would say anything to hurt me and second guess everything.
"Come on," Viola sighed, pulling me to my feet. She gave me a look as if she wanted to say something but decided against it. "We're getting lunch, and you're going to tell me every single thing you're worried about tonight. And then I'm going to talk you down from every single irrational fear until you remember that you're worthy of being chosen."
"There's a lot of fears," I warned, but I let her lead me toward the sandwich shop.
"Good thing I have all afternoon," Viola replied with a determined smile. As we walked, I clutched my boutique bag a little tighter, thinking about the outfit inside. The clothes that represented trying, believing, hoping that maybe I could be someone worth choosing.
Trinity's words echoed in my mind, but so did Viola's. And underneath both, I heard Oliver's voice from yesterday,You're worth everything.
Tonight, I'd find out if that was true… if Trinity tried to interfere again, well... I'd just have to find my courage one more time.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Daphne
The afternoon crawled by with excruciating slowness. After lunch with Viola—where she'd talked me down from at least seven different panic spirals—I'd driven home and immediately wanted to text Oliver that I couldn't make it. That I'd come down with something. That my truck wouldn't start. Any excuse that would let me retreat to safety.
Instead, I forced myself through my normal routine. Checked the garden even though everything was fine, watered plants that didn't need watering. Reorganized the greenhouse for the third time this week. Anything to keep my hands busy and my mind from spinning out completely.
By four o'clock, I couldn't avoid it anymore. I needed to get ready.
I stood in my bathroom, staring at the shower like it was an enemy to be conquered. This was ridiculous. I'd showered thousands of times. But today it felt significant, weighted with meaning. I was washing off the dirt and sweat of my normal life to prepare for... what? A potential new life? A chance at something I'd convinced myself I didn't want?
The water was too hot at first, scalding against my skin, and I adjusted it with shaking hands. Steam filled the small bathroom, carrying the scent of my soap—unscented, practical, the same kind I'd been using for years. As I washed my hair, I found myself wishing I had something nicer. Something that smelled like flowers or fruit or whatever it was that other women used to make themselves appealing.
Stop it, I told myself firmly. They've already met you. They know what you smell like. If they wanted someone who smelled like a perfume counter, they wouldn't have asked you to dinner.
But Trinity's words kept echoing: They don't want some antisocial little omega who plays in gardens.
I scrubbed harder, as if I could wash away the doubt along with the dirt.
By the time I stepped out, my skin was pink from the heat and probably from scrubbing too hard. I wrapped myself in a towel and stared at my reflection in the fogged mirror. Brown hair with light blond streaks hanging in wet tangles. Dirt under my nails that soap couldn't quite reach. The faint scar on my collarbone from a childhood accident I barely remembered.
This was me. No artifice, no pretense. Just Daphne, who grew things and kept to herself and was apparently terrifying herself over dinner with four men who'd shown her nothing but patience.
I dried off and looked at the new outfit hung on the back of my door, the sage green shirt and dark jeans looking impossibly nice compared to my usual wardrobe. Beside it, the brown leather boots sat waiting. My hair took longer than expected. It had grown past my shoulders over the years, easier to just braid it back than worry about styling. But tonight felt like it required more effort. I combed through the tangles, wincing at the knots, and debated what to do with it.
Braided felt too utilitarian. Down felt too vulnerable. After ten minutes of internal debate, I settled on leaving it down but tucking one side behind my ear. Simple. Not trying too hard. Still me.
The clock on my nightstand read four forty-seven. Just over an hour until I needed to leave.
I pulled on the new jeans, and the difference from my work pairs was immediately apparent. These actually fit properly, hugging my hips and legs without being tight or uncomfortable. The fabric was soft, broken in somehow despite being new. I could move in these, could breathe in them. That helped. I threaded the cognac belt through the loops, then stood in front of my full-length mirror—the one I normally avoided—and took in the full effect.
I looked... nice. Not trying to be someone I wasn't, but definitely a more polished version of myself. The sage green brought out the green flecks in my eyes that I usually didn't notice. The jeans made my legs look longer. The belt gave the whole outfit structure without feeling restrictive.
