Chapter 7 Wen
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Wen
“Spill.”
Krystin stood in the doorway of the bookstore, arms crossed, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in accusation.
“Damn, not even a hello?”
“NO. I wanna know why a certain huge summoned wolf not from this earth - basically an alien, by the way - is shopping with you while wearing khakis and a sweater I’m pretty sure belonged to your grandpa.”
Behind her, Bella gasped. “You gave him your grandpa’s clothes?”
My stomach dropped. They knew how much I cherished everything from my grandparents. Every sweater, every book, every coffee mug. I’d kept it all. Couldn’t bear to get rid of any of it.
“It’s not - look, he needed clothes, okay? What was I supposed to do, let him walk around in a blanket?”
“You could’ve bought him new clothes,” Daphne pointed out, appearing behind Krystin. “Instead you gave him Louis’s sweater. The navy one he wore every Sunday.”
I felt my face heat. “Can we not do this in the doorway?”
I glanced back at the apartment door. Closed. But could he hear us? He had super hearing or whatever. He could probably hear every word we were saying.
“Wait.” Daphne’s eyes widened. “IS HE IN YOUR APARTMENT?!”
Her voice hit a pitch that could shatter glass. I’d never heard her sound so shrill.
“Jesus, Daph! Yes, he’s upstairs. Now can you please lower your voice before the entire town hears you?”
“Oh my god,” Bella whispered. “He’s living with you.”
“He’s working for me. There’s a difference.”
“Uh-huh.” Krystin was smirking now. “And does he work shirtless? Because I’d pay to see that.”
“I will murder you.”
“You’d miss me too much.”
I grabbed Krystin’s arm and tugged all three of them toward the reading nook. “Okay, okay, let’s all calm the hell down and-”
They stopped moving. All three of them. Just froze and stared.
“Wen,” Bella breathed. “What did you do?”
I looked around, trying to see it through their eyes.
The bookstore looked different. Better. The walls were now a soft sage green that made the space feel open and welcoming instead of cramped and dingy.
The trim was a warm cream that caught the light from the new fixtures I’d installed.
The dark shelves had been sanded down and refinished with a lighter stain that made them glow honey-colored in the afternoon sun.
The floor was clean. Actually clean. The reading nook had been completely redone.
The old, saggy sofas were gone, replaced with the same furniture but repaired and refinished.
I’d reupholstered the cushions in a deep forest green.
Added throw pillows in cream and rust. The coffee table had a new coat of varnish and actually looked intentional instead of like something dragged from a garage sale.
The shelves were organized. Fiction alphabetized. New releases on display. A whole section for local authors I’d been meaning to highlight for months. Plants hung from the ceiling near the windows. Fairy lights were strung along the top of the shelves, ready to be turned on once it got dark.
It looked like a bookstore from Instagram. The kind of place people would actually want to spend time in.
“We worked on it,” I said. “All day yesterday and most of today. He wouldn’t stop following me around anyway, so I put him to work.”
“He did this?” Krystin walked over to one of the shelves, running her hand along the smooth wood. “He refinished these?”
“I supervised. He provided the muscle.”
“Wen, this is incredible.” Daphne was spinning in a circle, taking it all in. “It’s like a completely different place. It feels so cozy now. So welcoming.”
Bella had wandered to the new release section. “You got new books?”
“Ordered them online. They came in this morning. I’ve been meaning to update the inventory for months, but I never had the time or energy.” I shrugged. “Turns out having a werewolf who can lift entire shelves by himself speeds up the process.”
“This must have cost a fortune,” Krystin said, eyeing the furniture.
“Not really. Most of it was just fixing what we had. The paint and supplies were the expensive part, but I had some emergency funds saved.” Barely.
I was going to be eating ramen for the next month, but it was worth it.
“I needed to do something. The place was dying. Now maybe people will actually want to come in.”
My friends exchanged glances. That look they got when they were having a silent conversation I wasn’t part of.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Krystin said, but she was smiling. “We’re just proud of you. This place looks amazing.”
“And you did it with your live-in werewolf boyfriend,” Daphne added.
“He’s not my boyfriend!”
“Right. Your live-in werewolf employee that you gave your dead grandfather’s clothes to.”
I pointed at her. “You’re on thin ice.”
They settled onto the newly reupholstered sofas, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction. This was what I’d wanted. A space that felt good. That felt right. My friends here, in the bookstore my grandparents had loved, finally looking like it belonged in this decade.
“Okay, but seriously,” Bella said, leaning forward. She was wearing an oversized cardigan that made her look even smaller than usual. “What about him? Malachar? What’s going on there?”
“Nothing’s going on. He’s helping with the bookstore in exchange for a place to stay. That’s it.”
All three of them stared at me with identical expressions of disbelief.
“What?”
“Wen,” Krystin said slowly. “The man called you his mate in a hardware store. In front of Mrs. Santos, who has now told literally everyone in town that you’re dating.”
“He doesn’t understand human social conventions-”
“And he’s obscenely hot,” Daphne cut in. “That bone structure? Those eyes? The scars? He’s literally a romance novel cover model come to life.”
“And he’s obsessed with you,” Bella added softly. “The way he looked at you in that photo Krystin’s cousin sent? Wen, that’s not normal. That’s... that’s intense.”
“That’s the mate bond. It’s not real. It’s just some magical wolf thing that doesn’t mean anything.”
Krystin snorted. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“I will, thanks.”
“Just be careful,” Bella said, wringing her hands. “We don’t really know him. What if he’s dangerous?”
“He’s a werewolf who almost murdered a guy for insulting me. Of course he’s dangerous.”
“That’s not reassuring! When?!”
“Friday. Some finance bro was being a dick about the bookstore and Malachar almost shifted in the middle of the store.” I waved my hand dismissively.
“But he didn’t. He listened to me when I told him to stop.
That’s the point. The mate bond thing means he literally can’t hurt me.
It’s like... biologically impossible or whatever.
” At least, that’s what Bella’s internet research had suggested.
Fated mates couldn’t harm each other. It was a rule.
“Plus, he does whatever I say. It’s actually kind of nice having someone who just.. . obeys.”
“That’s a concerning amount of power,” Daphne murmured.
“I’m using it responsibly. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“I made him reorganize the entire sci-fi section alphabetically by author. Twice. Because I didn’t like how it looked the first time.”
Krystin laughed. “Okay, that’s fair. Use that man for manual labor. Lord knows he’s built for it.”
The apartment door opened.
We all froze. Stared at each other with wide eyes.
I’d told him to stay upstairs. Explicitly told him that Sunday book club was friend time and he needed to give us space. What was he doing?
Footsteps on the stairs. Getting closer.
“Oh my god,” Bella whispered. “He’s coming down.”
“I can see that,” I hissed back.
Malachar appeared in the reading nook carrying four glasses on a tray. The glasses were filled with orange juice. Fresh orange juice, based on the pulp I could see floating in it.
He looked pleased with himself. Proud.
My friends stared. I stared. Nobody spoke.
“I made juice for you and your friends,” he announced, setting the tray down on the coffee table with surprising gentleness. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
“I... what?” My brain was struggling to process. “I didn’t have any orange juice upstairs.”
“You did not.” He straightened, looking even more pleased. “I acquired fresh oranges from a tree not far from here and made it myself. The process was fascinating. I had to cut them open and squeeze them. Very labor intensive, but I believe the result is satisfactory.”
He stole oranges. For me. To make juice. Not even for me specifically, but for my friends.
Krystin made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a suppressed laugh, disguised as a cough.
“Thank you,” I managed. My face felt hot. “That’s... that’s really thoughtful.”
His smile widened. He actually looked proud. Like a puppy that had brought back a stick. “I did not want you to be thirsty, little mate.”
Bella made a small shrieking noise and covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes huge.
“Right. Okay. Thank you for this.” I gestured vaguely at the tray. “You can go upstairs now. We need to talk about our book club.”
He tilted his head. “What is a book club?”
Shit.
I opened my mouth to tell him he didn’t need to know, that it was private friend time, but Daphne cut in before I could speak.
“It’s an activity we do every Sunday now that we’re all living in Ryeville.
” Her voice had gone soft, dreamy. The way it always did when she talked about books.
“We used to do it the last Sunday of every month, but it’s better to see each other weekly.
We pick a book, all read it, then get together to discuss it. ”
Malachar made an appreciative noise. “That sounds like an excellent tradition. Reading is important in Lytopia as well. Though we have fewer books than your world seems to possess.”
“We cherish it,” Daphne continued. “Books are how we connect. How we understand each other and the world.”
Oh no. I could see where this was going. Could feel the question coming before he asked it.
“What book are you reading currently?”