The Lost Slipper (Fairytale Shifter 3)

My memory floods with all the times he’s pushed me away over the years. Like I was unwanted. Like I was a stray, as my stepsisters like to call me. It didn’t help that I wasn’t subtle with my crush for the first few years. Anyone with eyes in their head could see I followed him around like a lovesick puppy. If only I was a puppy. Then maybe things would’ve been different.

He only wants me because nature made it so. I wasn’t so much as a blip on his radar before today. I was just someone who got bossed around and was made to follow orders, no matter what I wanted. Stone, my stepsisters, and my stepmother. They were the worst. I thought it was bad when my stepfather was here. But when he died two years ago, things only got worse. I hate it here.

The bitter reality of it all is that if I did become Stone’s mate, I’d be stuck in a pack that never truly wanted me. I’d only be accepted because my pack-mates were made to. My stepsisters have made my life hell. It didn’t help that they got their friends to join in on their little taunts as they picked on me in school.

It seemed like each day that ticked by, my bear retreated more and more inside me. Now I don’t even feel her. At first she clawed at me to have a family, to try to fit in, and to be a part of a den. I craved it, just like I’d craved Stone.

For the past four years I’ve been here, all I’ve ever felt was that I was being tolerated. The only true friend I had at any point was Gwen, and sometimes I wondered if she just pitied me. Maybe she felt I needed a friend more than she wanted to be my friend. Not that Gwen isn’t good to me. She is. She’s been there for me when I’ve had no one else, but I still question it. I can’t stop myself.

I roll over and punch the pillow next to me. Pity party for one, anyone?

When I hear the door to my room open, I inwardly cringe, knowing who’s coming up the stairs. Now I really wish it was just a pity party for one.

“Look who it is,” Trish snaps as she stomps up the stairs. I don’t even wonder why she’s in a bad mood. She always seems to have a reason to direct some kind of hostility at me. Over the years I’ve learned to let it roll off me. There wasn’t a hateful thing they hadn’t hurled at me before.

And there’s nothing I can do about it. Stone’s the alpha, and he put me here. I had nowhere else to go, and no one ever came to claim me. Four years and nothing. Rare my ass. The irony is, now that I’m being claimed, I want to run. The thought makes me want to laugh, but I don’t because I know it will turn into a sob, and the last thing I need right now is to cry in front to Trish.

She stops at the end of the bed and places her hands on her trim, lean hips. I wonder where her other half, Tamara, is. She’s the better half, but that’s not saying much. They are twins but though don’t look exactly alike, it’s pretty darn close.

I wish I could say they were ugly with warts and terrible style with frizzy hair. I wish they looked like what you picture when you think of an evil stepsister, but they’re not. Far from it. They both are well over six feet tall and all legs. Thin waists and blonde hair that falls in silky waves. Trish has big blue eyes framed by long lashes, as does Tamara, but hers are a deep green. They both look flawless and are always dressed like they’re ready to walk in a fashion show. If only some of their beauty would rub off on me. Even just a little something would make a difference. Stone always noticed them and never pushed them away or avoided them. He seemed to be that way with most of the pack. Always listening when people had concerns and trying to do what was best for everyone. Not me. I could barely get a word out sometimes, and I was pretty much told to move along or go talk to Gwen if I needed something.

I have no idea what makes my stepsisters so bitter, but they’re great at hiding it in public. They still come off bratty, but not like the total bitches they are when we’re at home and no one is looking. Not that anyone notices when it comes to me. The twins seem to have it all, but looking at Trish staring down at me now, you’d think I kicked her puppy.

“You’re opening that store tomorrow. You didn’t even work today,” she continues, like I skipped out or played hooky. It was my day off from the bakery. Not only that, I’d gotten all my chores plus a few extra finished before I left for Gwen’s today. I’ve been working at the bakery with my two stepsisters for a few weeks now, and she acts as if I was being lazy.

Ruby owned the place and Gwen helped her run it, but since both are knocked up with mates shoved up their asses, they needed some help. I’d volunteered, wanting to make some money in hopes of moving out of here. Then my sisters did, too, when Gwen happened to mention the alpha would be ever so grateful.

I wish I could eye roll their eagerness, but I was just as eager. How quickly things change.

“I’m not scheduled tomorrow,” I remind her, sitting up. I have two days off in a row.

“I don’t give a fuck. I have a date tonight, and I still need to get ready. And you’ll need to go in early because I didn’t have time to do the prep work for tomorrow. Did you wash my red sweater? I put it on top of the dryer. You better have washed it separately. The color runs and needs to be dried on tumble or it can shrink. If it shrinks, you’re buying me a new one. I swear.”