The Wolf in Sheep's Skin

Pale yellow thread slid through the fabric of my dress like butter. I weaved the thread, embroidering intricate details onto my dress’s skirt. We went over a bump in the road, making the car jolt. The needle slipped, pricking my finger. Red blood pooled to the surface of my thumb. “Sh*t.” I muttered under my breath, shoving my thumb in my mouth. A hint of iron covered my tongue as I frowned at the embroidered pattern on my dress. At least blood didn’t get on it. “Oh, Miss Perfect, cursing, are we? Wait, are you seriously working on your dress right now?” Maeve, my sister, asked. She was driving in the seat next to me. “It’s just a few more details.” I pulled my thumb from my mouth and waved it to dry after ensuring it wasn’t bleeding anymore. “We are literally almost there. Your dress is fine; stop fretting. You’ll ruin it by working on it in the car.” We hit another bump, and I sighed. My nerves shot up, like a frayed knot ready to snap. “I guess you’re right.” I tied the thread into a knot, making sure my work wouldn’t unravel, and snipped it with my tiny seamstress scissors. I let out a shaky sigh, brushing the skirt of my dress down while putting my embroidery supplies away in my bag. “Geez, your anxiety is stinky! Roll down a window or something!” Maeve waved her arm around, as if blowing away the smell. She laughed and my window began to go down. Wind rushed into the car, and my stomach lurched. I grabbed at my hair as it blew around and smashed my finger on the window button. “Stop!” I shouted at Maeve. She flinched, and the car screeched to a halt as she stomped on the brakes. My face slammed into the dashboard, making my head spin. A truck honked behind us; the dirt road crunched as they swerved around us. A man swung his arm out the window, yelling profanities as he kept driving. I sat up straight and twisted around to look at my younger sister, Quinn, in the back seat. She blinked in confusion at me and glanced at Maeve. Maeve was sitting up, with her hands on the wheel. “Everyone alright?” I asked, trying my hardest to make my tone soft and gentle. D*mn Gwen. They’re not fine, they’re terrified! I could smell their fear and hear their racing hearts. The scent turned my stomach, making me want to pummel my head against the dash some more. “At least we’re on a dirt road, right?” Maeve let out a shaky laugh and smiled at me. It didn’t reach her eyes. I hated the sight, the scent, the fear I had caused. “What was that?” Quinn asked from the back. At 15 years old, she’d never witnessed an incident before. “Nothing. We’re almost there; let’s just keep going.” Maeve said, letting her foot off the brake. At least we were on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. I shivered at the thought of what could’ve happened if I’d done that on a busier street. Or if the truck behind us hadn’t been paying attention. The windows on the car rolled up, and now I wanted nothing more than to roll them down. To get rid of the scent of their fear. Maeve glanced at me, and I clasped my hands together, trying to hide their shaking. “Nervous about today? It’s just a new pack; we’ll be fine. Hell, they should be the ones who are nervous. Prepare yourselves for the unleashing of the O’Neill’s!” She said the last part in a deep voice, like she was announcing some new hot action movie. Quinn snorted in the backseat, and I couldn’t help but laugh. At least they aren’t mad at me. “It’s an important day for all of us. We have to portray ourselves well, for the whole family, the shop, for-“ “You just want to look your best so you can find your mate.” Quinn said with a giggle. My cheeks warmed, and I glared at her in the rearview mirror. She stuck out her tongue before breaking out in laughter. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look good.” I frowned and adjusted the hem of my dress, making sure it didn’t wrinkle. My hands fumbled around, and I desperately wished I hadn’t put away my embroidery supplies. “Come on, Quinn, you know Gwen isn’t looking for her mate. She’s shopping for the perfect man.” Maeve batted her lashes, repeating the sentiment she had over the past 10 years. “Like you don’t have a list of requirements for your mate.” I held my chin up, ready to defend myself for the hundredth time. “Yeah, but my requirements are fun. You know, handsome, enjoys a good night out, has fun in bed.” She winked at me and laughed. It was lighthearted teasing, but I couldn’t help my cheeks from burning up. “Is expecting my mate to be a gentleman too much to ask?” They both giggled. It was a conversation we’d often had at the old shop before moving to the new state. The teasing didn’t hurt. There was an odd familiarity with it, comfort even. We uprooted our lives, yet things can still be the same. I let out a sigh of relief as we made a left on the dirt road. I can do this. I’ll be fine in the new pack. Soon we pulled into the driveway where dozens of other cars had parked. We parked next to our parents’ and brother’s cars. Both were empty, indicating we were the last of the family to arrive. “This is it! A new beginning.” Maeve said before throwing her door open and climbing out of the dinky little Toyota Camry. I pulled down my visor and met my own blue eyes in the mirror. “Why didn’t you tell me I busted my eyebrow?” I gasped and poked at the red mark on my right brow. A trail of blood and mixed with the fine blonde hairs. “It’s barely even noticeable.” She said as she walked around the car. “I’m bleeding!” “Oh, it’s a tiny drop of blood. It’s better than a black eye or a busted lip, right?” She opened my door, bowed, and waved for me to get out. “My fair princess, get out of the car.” I glared at her, gathered my dress up in one hand, and climbed out. Delicately, I fluffed my dress, making sure it hadn’t wrinkled. I’d been working on it for 3 months. Hand sewn from my own pattern, then embroidered all by hand. It was a pale blue fit and flare dress that sat just below my knees, with a detailed scene of a daffodil field embroidered on it. A true work of art, it was the most detailed piece I’d ever made. Von Gogh would’ve wept at its beauty. “Stop messing with it; you look gorgeous.” Maeve said. Quinn climbed out of the car, slamming the door, and I grimaced at the state of her dress. “Quinn!” I hissed under my breath. The dress I’d made for her had turned frumpy and odd after being in the car. I reached out, fixing her dress by fluffing it. She threw her head back and groaned. “Can’t you make her stop?” “I don’t think anyone can.” Maeve said, chuckling. “This is important; we’re promoting the store.” I whispered. With a huff, I stood, knowing there was no way to fix the dress how I wanted without an iron. “Now remember, if anyone asks where you got your dress-“ “Yeah, yeah. Give ’em the shop spiel, I know.” Quinn announced loudly, rolling her eyes. I glanced at the people weaving around cars nearby and clenched my hands at my sides so I wouldn’t cover Quinn’s mouth. She stomped off towards the pack house in the distance. I watched as her strawberry blonde head bobbed through the cars. My heart warmed, knowing she was comfortable enough around me to give me her true opinion. But I couldn’t help the fear that crept in. I lost control in the car. That can’t happen again. I shivered at the thought, knowing the dangers of losing control of myself. My heart rate picked up, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I took a deep breath through my nose, letting the sweet scent of spring fill my senses. Tulips, honey, and the fresh breeze helped calm my raw nerves. I opened my clenched hands, slowly releasing my breath through my mouth. Calm, cool, and collected Gwen. Keys jingled next to me. “It’s not too late to go home.” Maeve said in a hushed tone, and I opened my eyes. Maeve and I locked eyes. Worry swam in hers, with her mouth curved down in a frown. Maeve’s dark brown hair and steely blue reminded me of our mother, but that was where the resemblance ended. Maeve had a stylish pixie bob, fashionable clothes, and her eyes sparkled with a l*st for life I was often jealous of. “No. Let’s do this.” I locked my arm with hers and gave her a wide grin before leading us to the pack house.