CHAPTER 250: CHAPTER 250 - COSPLAY CALM BEFORE THE ALPHA STORM

Mood either changed or hidden... the hoodie wearing werewolf led me to a display case filled with what appeared to be costume accessories - animal ears, tails, colorful wigs, and various other bulky items I couldn’t readily identify.

But some looked like they could be oversized weapon props, I suppose. That seems to be some sort of unwieldy hammer.

While she was speaking to the man behind the counter... he looked at me with some measure of sympathy. Immediately, she requested a pair of remarkably realistic gray wolf ears from behind some other things.

Like she knew just where the establishment usually hid them. Which I suppose she probably did, if this location really is one of her hideaways from her professional life. She held them up against my hair, completely ignoring my personal space as she assessed the color match.

Look, you don’t have to growl so much about the idea of different colored fur on top of my head. It’s not like she’s trying to coat you in dye and make *you* a different color.

"Oh, this will be so good. Bring out the matching gloves!"

"If you rip them again, you buy them."

"Of course, of course."

Something about the look on her face in that exchange with him tells me she would do her best to talk her way out of that. Well, it should be fun to make her fail... and make her owe me. I wonder if I should intentionally make a tear?

She came back over with a set of gray long sleeved mittens with very detailed paw pads on the palms. Her fingers squished and pressed on the gel looking substance in a way that tells me all I need to know about what it is on them she destroyed last time.

"I am not wearing those."

"Come on, just try them on. I promise no one here will judge you - half the customers dress up anyway. That guy over there is in a video game wig."

Following her finger, he is indeed wearing something that the color, sheen, and smell of cannot be real hair. White and styled in something sort of ’punk’ mixed with hanging braids that reminds me too much of Helene’s pack.

"Witching Hearts & Minds was a novel and a stellar web animated series *first* and you know it, you magical girl freak!"

"Shut up, Patrick, you’re scaring her away with your *specificity* and media purity! I’m also branching out into that cultivation work you recommended last month and away from mahō shōjo, so bite me!"

Their short exchange was loud, but no one else seemed to care. All of them were in their own worlds of books or games... no matter who was bringing their private worlds into this one.

Does she truly think she has been... less specific than he just was?

My question pokes at Vrika, but honestly the wolf has just given up. It lays despondent on the warm slab of system-make. Because it hasn’t done a very good job of convincing me of much of anything since this morning.

I do feel bad, knowing that the very vehicle of its existence is simply to be contracted to a ’human’ werewolf and experience things through them. And it had gotten close, in its estimate, to having me around Kyrie Voss long enough that one of its kind’s biggest goals could possibly be met, if I could only be nudged.

Coalescing in my cream-colored fox form and belly flopping over the black fur below, I just lay there for three seconds to see if it would react. Rolling slightly to get more comfortable, my soul opens and I speak to it as sincerely as I can.

My friend, whether you rush it or not, if it really is Fate then it will capture me whenever it is destined to. However, it is in my nature to avoid it, as if it is possible. Don’t you become disillusioned with me for no good reason, now.

But friend or not, there are some things people are willing to sacrifice and some things they are not. As well as lines that you should not ask them to cross. So, I level a look at the tan skinned woman in front of me.

"Please? It’s just for fun. Besides, you’d look adorable with what you’re wearing - very sophisticated otherworld protagonist meets real-world modern elegance."

Against my better judgment, but completely in ’character’ with my blasted weakness to compliments... I found myself taking the headband. The ears seemed surprisingly well-made, sitting naturally enough against my dark hair when I show off all my *reluctance* to put them on.

The gloves were soft lined inside and the pads felt oddly... addicting to clench and unclench with the way it seated in your palm. When I broke out of my trance of the ninth time doing it, Ellie was delighted and holding her sticker covered phone.

"You look like the world’s most elegant wolf girl. Very mysterious and powerful. Do you want pictures? I really want to take some..."

"...Of course I want pictures. But you aren’t allowed to post or share them with anyone else."

"Deal!"

She bounced very close and began adjusting the ears... still completely oblivious to any concept of personal space. Her hands brushed against my hair to flatten it as she positioned the headband just right - entirely focused on her styling project even as her face was less than a handspan from mine.

See this, Vrika? This is the type of person to cause misunderstandings. Because I’m certain she isn’t flirting, but I’m also certain she understands that this proximity is intimate enough to get her in trouble.

It makes me reassess her. Ellie Rushwater may be on an entirely different wavelength then me in many ways, but boldly expressing herself with her body language does seem a lot more like me than not?

"There! Now you just need to learn a few classic poses. Here, watch this video really quick."

It loads so quickly that she must have already had it ready? It started demonstrating something that involved specific hand positions and facial expressions. It really reminded me of all the tutorials I’d been watching, however...

The [art of controlled cuteness] is a strange way of phrasing it. Besides, I think sexy fits me more, don’t you?

Only a huff. Oh well. The voice’s enthusiasm was infectious enough that I actually found myself paying attention to her explanations and mirroring her movements.

At least until every instinct I possessed suddenly screamed that danger had landed. My Intuition, which had been more active today than usual, sent a bolt of urgency up my spine even before the scent hit me.

Crisp snow and bloody iron, but wrong. Too sharp, too intense in an almost feral way. My head snapped toward the entrance where I’d heard the bell chime and hadn’t thought to look.

What I saw filled my veins with ice and fire all at once. Because an Alpha stood in the doorway.

And she looked absolutely, *gorgeously* murderous.