Star-Crossed (On-Hold), Chloe Knox [best 7 inch ereader txt] 📗

before I’d be stuck with him.”
I frowned, my excitement suddenly gone, “Is he really that bad?”
“That’s the thing…I don’t know, I’ve never met him before.”
“Oh…I’m Jessica, by the way.” I quickly changed the subject noticing in her eyes that both her and her cat weren’t exactly happy with the arrangement let alone talking about it. I held out my hand to her, and she took it with a faint smile, “Rose.”
“Jess! What are you doing down here!”
The mention of my nickname made me jump to my feet in surprise. Rose quickly backed away from the bars, and scurried to hide in the nearest shadow.
I looked into the deep emerald eyes, and began to stutter, “Paris I—“
“Your father would kill you if he saw you down here. Especially if he knew you were talking to her.” My best friend growled, and then spat at the bars to show Rose how much he despised her.
My anger flared, “Paris! Stop! Don’t do that—“
“Don’t do what?” Paris asked, pretending to be oblivious while spitting more saliva onto the floor.
I jumped when I heard footsteps down the hall and around the corner, “God dammit Paris! We’ll talk about this later! Right now, we have to go, or we’ll both be in deep with my father.”
Paris sighed, and reluctantly followed me back out of the underground catacombs, making sure to avoid the tunnels my father’s men had been using.

Chapter Two

“Please, can we not fight,” Paris complained as he ran a hand through his long blond hair, and plopped onto my king sized bed.
I scoffed, “Are you kidding? Paris! You’re the one that started it!”
“Well, now I want to end it!”
I rolled my eyes and sighed, not angry but slightly annoyed.
Paris stood and wrapped his arms around me from behind to pull me into a warm and relaxing embrace, my back to his chest, “I’m sorry, okay? I was just…surprised! This is your day, don’t let little ole me ruin it for you.”
I laughed, “Why thank you Paris! I can die happy now!”
“Miss. Amulet! Your bath is ready!” Yvetta, my maid, said in her soft and quite voice, interrupting me and Paris.
“Ah, you need help washing up?” Paris whispered into my ear and I giggled, “You’re such a horn dog! Go down stairs and find your mate or don’t. Just go find some other random chick!”
Paris, he’s my best friend. Has been since the day I was born. We grew up in the same house, and have seen and dealt with each other at our best and worst. He knows me better then my own father…but he’ll never be more than just that, my friend. If we were mates, we would have known it—we would have felt that well known shock that supposedly happens the first time you and your mate touch. We just like to joke and tease each other a lot.
Paris exhaled noisily, putting on his best puppy dog face, “Fine.”
“I’ll see you tonight!” I mumbled as I gently slapped his cheek, and then followed Yvetta to my bath.
While I soaked in my warm bath water, till my fingers and toes were pruney, Yvetta looked through my walking closet for my mother’s gown—the one she had worn on her sixteenth birthday, and the one I shall wear on mine, today!
“Miss. Amulet? I’ve found the gown! Where would you like me to—“
“For the last time Yvetta, stop calling me Miss. Amulet! My name is Jessica!” I called to her from the other side of the bathroom door as I stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around my wet and naked body.
I wrung out my hair, combed through it, scrunched it, and then walked out of my bathroom and into my bed chambers.
Yvetta dressed in her grey commoner dress and apron stood next to my bed, the biggest smile on her face, “Would you like help getting into your dress?”
I giggled, “I’m pretty sure I can dress myself.”
“I don’t doubt that Miss.—“I glared “—Jessica! What I meant was do you want help tying your corset. If you wait for your mother, she’ll tie it so tight that you’ll shrink three sizes and won’t be able to breathe.”
My eyes went wide with realization, because as funny as it was, it was also true. My mother brought a complete new meaning to the famous phrase ‘Beauty is Pain’.
I gulped and nodded, letting Yvetta’s smile grow wider.
I untied my towel, letting it flow to the ground. Yvetta held out my undergarments, and then helped me into corset. It was a beautiful yet painful looking thing; black, with black lacing, ties, and buckles.
Gulping down some more nervous saliva, I slid into the silky top. I held the front to my chest, and stood as still as I possibly could as Yvetta tied the back, making it stay in place. Every now and then the force of her tight knots would jerk me from side to side, but nothing like it would have been with my mother. I could breath easily, bend, and lift my arms. It might have looked a bit scary, but it was actually very comfortable.
…made my boobs look good, too. Yvetta giggled in agreement when I pointed that out…
Next, Yvetta helped me slip into the actual gown.
It was a gorgeous pea green dress, which reminded me of the 21st century version of a Victorian dress. It was strapless, but came with a black laced shawl to cover my bare and pale shoulders. It was tight at the top, like my corset, but flowed out at the skirt like the typical princess gown. A black silhouette of thins vines and flowers devoured the skirt giving the plain dress some Oomph!
“It looks amazing on you. Just as beautiful as my mother…maybe even more, but don’t tell her I said that.”
I giggled and looked at myself in the full length mirror in complete awe. Never in my life had I felt like I was even worthy of being cute. It amazed me how one dress could change my complete perspective. I felt confident; like a beautiful young woman.
Yvetta spent the next hour finding a way to get my auburn hair to stay in a high and elegant bun on the top of my head. It only took her a few moments, though, to do my makeup. She gave me a smoky eye of brown eye shadows, making my bright blue eyes appear way more lively and fierce then they were on their own. My lips were covered in pink gloss that tasted a lot like pink lemonade.
“A red lip would be to overwhelming with the smoky eye,” Yvetta has said, as she blotted my lips with a napkin.
She had wanted to paint my fingernails green, but I was tired of the green so I offered black, and Yvetta reluctantly agreed.
By the time Yvetta was done, conjuring up the sixteen year old me, all of the guests—meaning all the werewolves in my father’s pack, and some Alpha’s and Beta’s from nearby ones—and I was officially fashionably late.
Yvetta, with my arm wrapped in hers, escorted me from my bedroom to the top of the stairs case that led to the huge living room of the house, which was now being used as the party room.
We both waited at the top of the stairs, till the small chit chat and laughter under us stopped. All eyes were literally on me, and my heart was beating so fast and loud I’m sure anyone within a good distance would be able to hear it.
“You’ll be fine. Just be yourself…Jessica.” Yvetta whispered to me, making my racing heart calm the slightest bit.
“Okay…just don’t let me trip,” I mumbled, and Yvetta held in a laugh, “Well that would be an entrance no one would forget.”
Slowly, one step at a time, we walked down the stairs, trying my best not to wobble in the heels Yvetta had literally forced me into wearing.
I took the last step from the stairs onto the wooden floor and exhaled in relief, “Well, um…hey everybody.” I mumbled not sure of what to say.
All the guests laughed, and I smiled, pretending as is if I had meant to get that reaction from them.
The music started back up, the chatting and laughing continued, only this time a swarm of men came rushing toward me.
I don’t know how the werecat culture is, but when a female werewolf turns sixteen she is arranged a party, to celebrate her coming of age to finally transform into her wolf and in chances to find a mater…there was more than enough men to chose from…

I sat on the bottom of the stairs, watching as the few fifty-some guests that hadn’t left yet conversed about…whatever it was they wanted to talk about…
I had talked to over four hundred men today—some for a few minutes, some for hours. It’s two in the morning, and I haven’t found one person I’d like to get to know better, let alone marry, date, or have a family with. At the beginning of this thing, I had thought for sure I’d come across him, my eternal soul mate, but now I’m convinced he doesn’t exist.

Chapter Three

“Hey…why the long face. This is your night! Have fun!” Paris mumbled as he took a seat next to the pouting me on the stair case.
I laughed, at the realization of the faintest slur, and quickly snatched the glass of champagne from his hands, “Sound like you’ve had two much to drink.”
“Are you kidding? I haven’t had too much! I’ve just had too little enough.”
“What?” I asked as I laughed. I twirled the glass in my hands, watching as the bubbly gold liquid sloshed. Then, bored out of my mind with nothing better to do, I licked my finger, and ever so lightly traced the rim of the glass. A faint whistle began to echo from the glass to my ears. Paris’s eyes went wide, “Whoa! How did you do that?”
I shrugged, “Nina showed it to me. You can do it with any glass, as long as it’s made out