9. HEATHER
Chapter 9
HEATHER
I’ve been here for six weeks, and I’m still alive. I’ve successfully made it back to my hometown as an exile, working on a wedding dress for the Alpha’s daughter, and I’m still alive.
I’m grateful but I also don’t understand it. When I first saw Trey, I sincerely believed he was about to kill me. But something else happened.
It’s taken me a while to grasp it, but I have a theory, sort of. The reason he didn’t kill me that night was that my wolf called out to his wolf. I can’t change on pack land, but somehow, that part of me knew to beg his wolf for mercy.
I felt a power there, and it made me wonder if something was going on with the Alpha I didn’t know about.
I can’t explain it completely. It was as if I was feeling an Alpha’s power in Trey. But that can’t be since his father is still Alpha—unless he’s not.
I think even I would have heard about that, though, especially since I’m in the city. I may not be communicating with anyone, but I can still watch the local news.
The Alpha isn’t in any news lately. As an important business mogul here, I remember him being out and about all the time. I haven’t seen a single story that talked about him since I got here six weeks ago.
That seems strange to me, given what I know about him. I don’t believe he’d change so much as to hate the spotlight within five years. He enjoyed the power too much.
Violet also looks to Trey for everything. She doesn’t ask him to consult their father at all. She only asks him, and the Alpha never comes up in their conversations.
Does she know something he’s not saying, too? Or is she concentrating so much on her wedding that she doesn’t care about the politics?
That’s the other part of this for me. Violet could kill me, too, and it would be completely justified. No one would fault her or tell her she was wrong.
In fact, she’d probably be celebrated. Is my dress design that important to her that she’d risk the people in her life finding out that she let me live or didn’t tell her father I’m here?
A couple of weeks ago, Trey gave me some of his dinner when I expressed how much I loved the place he’d ordered from. He wasn’t intentionally bringing me food, either.
It was obviously a split-second decision made for the sake of some kindness. I don’t believe his little “last meal” quip.
Every time I talk to my friends, Jessie and Gretta, they ask about me seeing my people here in the city, and I have to make up some lie about why I haven’t had a chance to do that. They want photos of Times Square and Central Park, but I can’t leave this shop.
Maybe I can get Violet to help me get some backdrop photos, and I can add myself in with some editing.
I have most of the pattern pieces cut out for Violet’s dress, and I’ve been draping and pinning them to get a sense of where the embroidery needs to stop for the seam allowance.
I have that almost finished on the bodice pieces but Violet hasn’t finalized the colors and design for the skirt and veil. I only have a few weeks left before this needs to be done. I don’t want to cut it too close.
Despite the stress of the time crunch and the overall cramped feeling of living in a bridal shop for a month and a half, I’ve found some sort of routine in this situation. They brought me a cot to use as a bed in the break room, which is basically my main living space.
I use washcloths and some toiletries I’ve also been given to wash up in the sink each morning, washing my hair when I can, then making coffee and breakfast while I plan my day.
Marly stopped in once to see how the project was going. I think she felt guilty making me work alone, but at the same time, I could see dollar signs dancing in her eyes.
I’ve barely been on social media. I mostly post about the “top secret project for Jessie” I’m working on, but that’s it. I make sure to turn off the location on my posts.
Jessie and Gretta know where I am, but Violet swore them to secrecy before they signed the contract. They can’t tell anyone, and my friends back there have also been sworn to secrecy.
Being here alone makes me think about them often. I’m actually surprised by how much I’ve missed these people who don’t even really know who I am. They’ve never seen me change.
They don’t know I’m an exile. They know me as “Heather, the seamstress who loves thrift stores and the diner.” That’s it. Still, I’ve become undeniably attached to them, which makes it all the more terrifying that I may never see them again.
And that brings me to my parents. Everything I think about in this city leads back to them. Every relationship I think about leads back to them. I never really had a chance to say goodbye when I ran. They must have known I’d be exiled but I don’t think that makes it any better.
Trey says they never stopped looking for me. On the one hand, I’m glad they’ve kept faith. On the other hand, it’s incredibly sad to know they’ve spent all this time looking for me.
What if there’s some way to let them know I’m here without them mentioning it to anyone else? I don’t believe they’d put me in any danger if they knew I was here, and I don’t think Trey has guards outside the door anymore.
He seems much more lax as of late. I could always ask him if he can arrange something, but then again that would make him wary if he refuses.
If I send them a message, he could easily find out. I don’t know if he’s tracking communications in and out of this place and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has some kind of tap on the internet lines and my phone.
I could ask Violet to get them a message, but that poses the same issue as asking Trey.
The only way to do this is to sneak out and go to them in person. If I put on a hoodie and mind my own business, no one will notice me.
That’s how people in the city are. I can’t change on pack land because the Alpha will feel it. I don’t think Trey knows what my wolf looks like, but he’ll surely recognize my scent.
Going to my parents as a human poses a risk but at least being in disguise shows I made some effort. If I change, there’s no recourse for that action. I get ready, throwing on black leggings and a dark hoodie with the hood up and my hair tucked inside.
I leave the shop, keeping my head down to avoid the various traffic cams and security cams on other buildings.
I can’t believe it. I’m walking down Greenwich Avenue, headed to my childhood townhouse to see my parents. I walk faster as I get farther from the shop, spurred on by my excitement to reach them. No one notices me.
I’m just another person weaving through the crowds, not making eye contact with anyone else. It’s the norm in this city.
I get to the townhouse, and I can’t get up the nerve to climb the concrete steps and knock. I watch from behind some bushes across the street, using my wolf senses to see and hear what’s going on.
A few minutes later, I see a couple approaching and recognize them instantly. My heart clenches.
They are walking down the sidewalk, carrying their reusable grocery bags, a fresh loaf of Italian bread sticking out of one. They’re probably coming back from their favorite deli down the block.
Yes, I can smell that too. My father is obsessed with that Genoa salami and provolone cheese. He always has been.
A tear rolls out of my eye as I watch them, forgetting that I’d planned to tell them I’m alive and in the city. They look so happy, doing their normal things on a normal day.
I tune in to what they’re saying and am shocked to find them talking about Trey becoming Alpha and what he might change.
“Do you really think he’d change the laws his father helped enact?” My mother sounds elated.
“I don’t know. It’s just a rumor, hon. There may be nothing to it at all.” My father responds.
“But Trey told us. He said he’s working on it.”
“That’s not really what he said. He was just trying to calm you down.”
“Well, I’m choosing to believe those rumors.”
My mother turns away in a huff, stubborn as always, and my father kisses her on the cheek on his way past her to open the front door. They haven’t changed a bit.
I crouch down, hoping they don’t look over here or catch my scent. I’ve abandoned my whole plan to confront them today. I can’t shake up their lives like that. Not now.
I pull myself out of the bushes after they’re inside, and I feel him before I turn around. Trey. No, Trey’s wolf. Fuck. I turn and see him, a huge brown and shaggy wolf, there on the sidewalk.
I notice that it’s gotten dark in the time I’ve been hiding in those bushes. No one else is around. If he mauls me right here and hauls off the pieces, no one will know.
But he doesn’t do that. He goes into those bushes I’d just been hiding in and transforms right there. I can feel the power radiating off of him.
Most wolves can’t do that, not that quickly or seamlessly. He must have been waiting for me to come out and stashed his clothes because he emerged from the greenery, pulling a shirt over his torso.
I catch a glimpse of his abs as he walks over to me, pulling the shirt down, and feel a sharp tingle run down my body. What the fuck was that?
Before I have a chance to ponder it, he grabs my arm and pulls me toward the street. I see a car there with tinted windows, and my fear spikes. Will I make it out of this car?
At this point, I’m moving on autopilot. Some part of me still hopes we’ll get back to the bridal shop without the occurrence of my death, and I hold onto that part with everything I have. Trey lets go of my arm once he puts me in the back of the car.
“Go,” he tells the driver.
“You got her before anyone saw her?”
Holy shit, Violet is the driver!
“Yeah, we’re good. They didn’t notice she was there.”
“Good.” She stretches her neck around to look at me. “Do you realize how incredibly lucky you are, Heather?”
“Violet, watch the road!”
She faces forward again, and no one says another word the entire way back to the shop. When we get there, Violet pulls the car around to the back of the building, and Trey gets out. He comes around to my side, opens the door, and takes my arm.
“Stay here,” he says to Violet.
“You’re not gonna—?” She makes a motion with a finger across her throat.
“No. Just stay in the car.”
“Fine.”
She takes her phone out of her purse on the passenger seat and Trey leads me inside. When we get to the break room, aka my living quarters, he throws me down, and my ass hits the thin carpet, taking me by surprise yet again.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” He roars.
And I mean roars . Like a wolf roar, if that’s a thing. I scoot back until I hit the wall, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I don’t dare try to run. I know that would make things horribly worse.
“Well?” He demands, his voice back to normal.
“I don’t know,” I whimper. “I thought I could just see them, and no one would notice.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“What?”
I’m emboldened by his incredulity. If he’s gonna kill me, let it happen already. I’m done being afraid.
I continue, “Why are you really pissed, Trey? Are you worried someone will find out you let an exile live for the past six weeks for the sake of your sister’s wedding dress?
I know you’re after power here, but come on. Shit or get off the pot because I’m done living in fear here. I won’t do this for another six weeks.”
He starts pacing, looking at me sitting on the floor each time he comes back toward me. After his third pass, I stand up, looking him right in the eye.
He stops pacing. “That’s not it, Heather. This isn’t all about power.”
I cross my arms. “Then what is it about?”
He starts pacing again. There’s something here. My wolf feels it, like when we first met, and he put his hand on my throat.
I need to know if it’s real but I don’t know how to find out. I have to do something to stop this fucking pacing, too, because it’s becoming really annoying.
I stand in his path when he comes back toward me. He doesn’t try to push me aside. Instead, I feel this sort of vibration in the space between us, almost like a magnet pulling me toward him.
I let my wolf’s instincts take over, and what happens next both terrifies and excites me.
I kiss him.