1.4

THE AIR IS CHILLY despite being surrounded by so many hot-blooded shifters in the middle of town. I snuggle deeper into my puffer jacket to get away from the cold—and the several eyes boring into the back of my head.

They have been glaring at me ever since I stepped into town. I do my best to ignore it but Goddess is it uncomfortable!

I don't want to be here if you couldn’t tell. But alas, Mom needs my help today and I promised I’d pick her up some hot coffee on my way over to help warm her up since we’re in the middle of Autumn and in Denali, it’ll only get colder from here.

Luckily, Denali wolves are built for this kind of persistent wintry climate being that we’ve been living on these snowy-capped Mountains for centuries now that we've grown almost resistant to the cold. It also helps that we're especially known for having white, fluffy fur coats in our wolf form that protect us from the worst of the winds, compared to our other shifter neighbors.

I follow reluctantly behind Becca as we enter the Beanery, my mood dwindling with each step we get closer to the worst place an outcast like me could be.

Inside, the air is crisp and warm with the scent of coffee beans and baked goods. This cafe is a popular afterschool hangout for our peers, so it doesn’t surprise me when I see a few familiar faces littered about the modernly-styled room. Some wave to Becca as she saunters in with a confidence I wouldn’t be able to possess even in my wildest dreams and everyone ignores me, presumably because I have my head buried so deep inside the hoodie of my jacket, I might as well not be there.

Before we reach the line heading to the counter, Becca turns to me grasping my shoulder. “Okay, you go order, I need to pee. I want whatever you’re getting, alright? Be back in a bit.” Then she bolts in the direction of the bathroom and I wish with everything within me that she’d come back so I won’t have to go up there.

Finally, after standing there like a loser for two minutes flat, I muster up the courage to join the line.

No one’s realized who I am but I know any moment that could change, so I keep my head down as much as I can.

I stand behind a cute couple making their orders. There, zipping between their legs is the cutest little girl ever. She couldn’t be older than four years old. For a moment she stops and looks up at me, a wide, innocent smile gracing her lips.

It was the first genuine reaction I’d seen all day, so I can’t help but smile back... until her mother turns to see who’d caught her daughter’s attention. One look at me has the smile sliding away and the look of disgust on her prim face pierces me so deeply that I almost stumble back at its suddenness.

She snatches her daughter’s hand up fast and yanks both her and her husband away, the little girl staring between us two with confusion.

“Next!” The Barista calls and it snaps me out of my moment of embarrassment enough to move forward.

“Uh, I’ll have two iced coffees, a hot chocolate, and a glazed scone please,” I say softly.

The Barista nods, writing it up. “Is that all?”

“Uh, yeah—”

“I got this one, Hannah.” Someone cuts in just then, wearing a thick polo shirt, the words manager glinting off the badge on his breast pocket. Hannah’s brows furrow but she steps aside anyway to make room for the heavy man. He regards me over the register, his lips in a stoic thin line but his eyes hold a mocking glint and I know from that look alone that this isn’t going to end well.

There is a reason I rarely came to town.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, girl.”

My fist clenched to stop the tears from burning to come out. “I just wanted a coffee—”

“Leave. We don’t want you here.” The cafe quiets down, all attention now trained on us. “Don’t let me repeat it. The next time I do, the police will be involved.”

My hands trembled with the pounding in my chest and silently I start to turn away.

“Is there a problem?” Becca coming out of the washroom stops, both confusion and worry marring her delicate features.

I see the Manager’s eyes light in recognition of the Alpha’s daughter but before he could say something I interrupt her. “Nothing. We should go.” Becca’s eyes scan my face, taking in my flustered appearance and I see the realization dawn on her the second it did. “Really, Becca. We should go.”

“Are you sure?”

“You promised,” is all I said, and she nods, despite clear disapproval.

I take her hand and pull her to the door, the silence of the cafe following us out into the cold.

“Masie...” Becca starts, but I don’t want to talk about it.

We make our way silently to my mother’s bookstore in the middle of Town Square. A quaint little thing between two large clothing stores in the busiest part of town. The Hovel is my Mom’s pride and joy. Before my problems and I ruined everything, Mom would spend most of her time at this place. Lounging and ranting about her favourite books with anyone who would listen. But ever since ‘The incident’ two years ago—that’s what I’m penning it now —the employees we’d hired to help out at the farm had all quit to avoid being associated with my family, and me especially, forcing mom to give up the place over helping out at the farm. And due to the ‘Bloody Birthday’—yes, I am giving my trauma book titles, deal with it— all the animals are dead and our funds are slowly drying up, so this old place is looking like the only option we have left as a means of getting money to survive this coming Winter.

The bell overhead sings as we enter and instantly a heady warmth envelopes me. I’m instantly reminded of spending my childhood darting through the voluminous collection of books from history to the dirtiest romances that would make a hooker cover her pearls— those were my mother’s favorites.

I strip off my jacket, Becca following after me as we enter deeper into the store. Shelves made of old dark timbre, high-back chairs that seem to have gotten peeled right off of some-seventeen-century mafia novella, and let’s not forget the stone fireplace blazing between the science-fiction shelves, that give the store a comfy, cottage-type feel that even compels me— a non-reader— to sit back and enjoy a good book.

“Mom!”

Her head pops out from the Erotica section and I can’t help but shake my head in laughter. Of course.

“Massie! Becca! Come in, come in!” She hops up from her place on the floor and rushes for us both, drawing us both in for a hug. “Wait!” She pulls back. “Did you get my coffee?”

Becca, seeing my mood darken, cuts in. “Ah, they didn’t have what you wanted, sorry.”

“Dammit,” Mom curses, too caught up in her excitement to notice the tension still permeating between Becca and me. “Anyway, how does it look? A little dusting here, a few threatening calls to the electrical company there, and this place practically fixed itself.”

“It looks great, Mom.” It really did. I’m impressed with how much she got done in such a short amount of time. “Have you chosen a date for the opening yet?”

“I was thinking about having the opening on the day of Nero’s return. Next week.”

I choked.

Becca narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want to believe it, but I’m starting to think you love him more than me.”

Mom said nothing.

“Mrs. Griffin! Really.”

“What?! At least he doesn’t rob me blind every time he comes over for dinner!”

“I’m a growing girl. I need sustenance!”

“Find it at your house! Not in my fridge!”

Meanwhile, I’m still gasping for air. “MOM, I’M DYING!” I choked out.

“Shit!” She finally gives me attention. Pounding on my back helplessly as Becca rushes off somewhere for water. A minute later I’m sitting down in the chair in front of the fireplace, bottle in hand as I glare at the two sheepish shifters who’d almost been responsible for my death.

“Are you feeling better, honey?” Mom asks, genuinely concerned.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good, if I’d killed you, your Dad would be very upset.”

“I would imagine,” I say dryly but she merely smiles.

Suddenly Becca scrambles up from her seat, her eyes glued to her phone. “Fuck!”

“Language!”

She ignores it. “I have a date and I’m late. Shit, shit, shit.” She grabs her bag and catapults out the door with a hurried goodbye. As the door closes Mom gives me a look. “And what number is this one?”

“Number seven, I think.”

“Goddess,” Mom said. “That girl goes through guys like I go through underwear.”

I snort. That’s not even half of it. Becca is admittedly the hottest girl in the pack. With her strawberry blond hair, her big doe-fuck-me eyes, and lips cushier than a fuck boy’s mattress, she’s the star of every guy’s wet dream. Topped with the fact that she has Alpha Blood running through her veins which almost guarantees her spawns are going to be powerful as hell, she’s the ultimate prize for a mate and anyone wanting to move up in the ranks while having a pretty face-to-look at in the process.

The thing is, she hasn’t always been fucking around as she does now. This has been happening since April. I wouldn’t say Becca was a Saint before then but she’d only had two other boyfriends. As soon as April hit it was like a switch flicked on and the whore came out.

Knowing Becca the way I do, I could surmise that she’s using these boys to distract herself from the fact that she hasn’t found her mate despite really, really wanting to.

We’ve been dreaming about that type of bond since we could walk and her seeing all these new couples falling in love and finding their mates when she hasn’t been so lucky, I know she’s both frustrated and lonely.

I just wish she’d find another way to cope with this, a way where she wouldn’t be the one getting hurt.

I help my Mom browse through paint swatches the rest of the time here after suddenly deciding she didn’t like the wine-red color of the walls. Through all of this, I only had one thought on my mind. Nero.

He’s coming back.

Next week.

Fuck.

I’ve known Nero for as long as I’ve known Becca. So since birth.

Our parents had been best friends... you know before I came and made us rejects to anyone and everyone in the pack. That drama forced the Alpha to take a step away from us to save himself and his reputation, but my Dad and him had been close. As close as Becca and me, really.

We had dinners over at the Alpha’s Keep so often that it became a tradition of a sort. A tradition I’d grown to love because as I’d get to spend time with Nero when he was not off with his friends getting trashed and hooking up with some girl...ugh. I’d have him all to myself... well not really but in my head, we’re usually all alone at those dinners and that’s all I care about really.

To anyone else, I’m like a sister to Nero. Being that I am Becca’s best friend and my parents had practically adopted him seeing that he practically grew up in our house. But I’d always thought that we could be more. I’m not that clumsy, awkward fourteen-year-old girl he left behind—granted I am still awkward—I’ve actually grown into my features now. My platinum blonde hair is much fuller, my cheeks have a more angular look, no more chubby cheeks for me. My waist has slimmed down significantly but most importantly... I have boobs now! They weren’t there before!

I am certainly not that girl anymore and I’m hoping with everything in my heart, that he doesn’t see me as that little kid that use to follow him around on her bike begging to play with him and his friends. I want him to see me as a woman. A woman he could fall in love with love.

I know it’s stupid and that I have Leo who has always been kind to me and I know I shouldn’t be having these thoughts... but I can’t help it. I’ve been obsessing over this man since I was a kid. It’s hard to just let that go.

What am I even going on about? I’ll never actually grow the nerve to tell him how I feel and even if I did have the nerve, I’ll never hurt Leo like that. Not after everything he’s done for me after ‘The incident we don’t talk about.’

It’s just fantasies I keep to myself that I’ll never actually do anything about. Fantasies no one will ever hear... well except Dr. Haux, my therapist. But I pay him to hear my frustrations, so he doesn’t count.

Shit, I thought.

How will we be able to continue to pay him for my treatment and medication if we’re broke? What if I have another episode?

This illness is the sole reason I’m in this mess in the first place. What if it happens again like that day two years ago? What if I hurt people again?

What the hell am I going to do if that happens?

No, better question, what the hell is this pack going to do to me if that happens?