The Rejected True Heiress (Liora) novel Chapter 59

Liora

The zipper snagged halfway up my back.

“Seriously?” I muttered, twisting like a contortionist and nearly knocking over the jar of hairpins on my desk.

“Here—stop squirming,” Mia said, appearing behind me like a helpful ghost in glittery eyeliner.

I had to admit, she cleaned up well. Her inky-black hair was twisted into an intricate braided bun, not a strand out of place. The gown clung like water, a shimmering swirl of deep blue and iridescent fabric that caught every bit of light. A high slit revealed just enough leg to turn heads, but it was the jeweled corset that stole the show, cinching her waist into something almost impossibly delicate. And tucked into her hair, curiously, a single white flower.

I had no clue were she got the money to blend in with the upper crowd so well, but she was more then pulling it off. And she knew, her smile ear to ear.

She tugged the zipper on my back up in one fluid motion, then adjusted the shoulders of my dress with a little frown. “First off, you look amazing. But you should really let me tailor this next time. I think I’m the better seamstress.”

“My hand can hold more then just a sword, you know” I said before I could stop myself. “Besides, there won’t be a next time.”

Her hands froze, peering around me. “What do you mean?”

I cursed how bitter I was feeling, how I shouldn’t be taking it out on Mia.

This night should be…fun. If not for me, then her.

“Don’t worry!” Mia reassured me, fixing my gold necklace. “Jessica, Bianca, or Callum will ruin this night! I promise you’ll want to come to another.”

I gave her a tight smile and nod, turning back to the mirror and fussed with a stubborn lock of hair that refused to obey. The dorm light flickered overhead, casting my reflection in soft gold.

For a second, I almost looked like the old me—the female Alpha, a princess shaped by expectation and polish.

My amber hair was swept into a half-up, half-down style, soft curls cascading down my back, crowned with a delicate tiara of beads and silver chain that shimmered with turn of my head.

The gown was regal, timeless, a deep violet that faded like dusk into a soft haze of white tulle at the hem. The bodice hugged close, threaded with tiny amethyst jewels and pearl accents, as if the stars themselves had been stitched into the fabric. Each movement made the dress glimmer faintly, like candlelight caught in smoke.

I looked like a wisp of something enchanted, something meant to vanish. Fitting, really, considering I would disappear by the end of the night too.

Mia grinned as our eyes met in the mirror. “We look… beautiful.”

I smiled softly. “We do. You must be excited to dance with Zane.”

“What?!” she squeaked, flailing a hand in the air. “No way! I just wanted to look nicer than the last dances. Stand out a little! It has nothing to do with him!”

I raised a brow. “Is that why you’ve got a white flower in your hair? To match his moonlight-blond locks?”

Her face flushed a shade deeper than her blush. “No…” she mumbled, fiddling with the edge of her gown.

I smirked, “Right.” I let the word drag out to her rolled eyes.

“Whatever,” she said slowly. “After everything, the last thing we should be thinking about is boys. I mean, Jessica’s threat, we’ll have to be extra careful. And—”

“You should focus on having a goodnight for yourself, Mia” I prompted, raising a brow at her through the mirror. “I mean it. We, you should just have fun.”

Because no matter what happens night, no matter how much we plan, everything will change.

She hesitated, then crossed her arms. “Well…what about Bianca? Callum?”

“What about them?”

“I saw you,” she said a bit lower. “In the library.”

I stiffened. “How do you—?”

“Liora, it’s okay if you still… have hope with him.”

“Mia—”

This was it.

Where it all ends. Or maybe begins again.

Homecoming. My first and last school dance. The one night I was supposed to feel normal, whatever that means. Instead, I was a secret wrapped in silk and lace, waiting to be unwrapped.

I studied myself in the mirror again. The girl in the reflection looked confident. Unbothered. She didn’t look like someone who'd been scratched up by mean girls, gutted by secrets, or ignored by the boy she might’ve once loved.

She looked like someone ready to burn the whole story down and start a new one.

Still, doubt crept in around the edges.

What would they say when they found out who I really was?

Would everything I’d done, every effort for the wolfless, for students like me, be seen as fake? Would Mia still look at me the same?

I pressed a hand to my chest, right where the brooch lay.

The truth was, I didn’t know how this story would end.

But I knew how I was walking into it.

Not for them. Not for Callum. Not even for Mia.

Just for me.

And at least… I can say I tried.

I slipped into my shoes, the jewels glittering, and gave myself one last look.

“Let’s give them a show,” I whispered.