4. Skyler
Four
Skyler
S ome days I hate this fucking job with an intensity that physically pains me. There are four hundred price changes today and of course, a call out. The hatred is almost strong enough to make me wish I had stayed in the pack. That thought still makes bile rise into my throat. Heavy on the almost .
Born and raised to be alpha, but I never wanted that fate.
It’s my sister, August’s, birthright anyway.
If only she’d been born male. Then maybe a lot of things would be different.
Maybe our family wouldn’t be quite as fucked up.
Yet, as my vision starts to blur from staring at these labels all day, I can’t help but wonder if it might’ve been less irritating to take over Dad’s dark dealings.
Comparatively, a quick drop of illegal substances would take just thirty minutes, and I’d make my fifty-hour weekly salary. Murder would surely take less of my time than the sixteen hours I’ll now be stuck here today, instead of my usual ten.
Since, of course, a runny nose renders my cashier, Olyver, unable to work his painfully long four-hour shift.
Wren could handle it on her own. She was already going to be by herself for two hours this evening, but the policy doesn’t allow anyone to close the store by themselves.
And naturally, I couldn’t find someone to cover Olyver’s shift.
“Skyler, I don’t suppose you could help me out, could you?
” A husky voice interrupts my pity party.
I lock eyes with the burly man, Thibault.
He’s a regular, always looking for something he can’t find.
I enjoy helping him. He’s courteous and sometimes even gives me a tip — making me feel like a pup again, wondering which treat to get with my allowance.
“Of course, what are you looking for today?” He pulls up a picture of a peculiar shaped fishing lure on his phone.
Seriously, what is that thing? “Hm, I won’t carry something like that here.
Try the little gas station closer to the lake.
What is it called… Chip and Finn’s? I’m sure they’ll have what you need.
” He nods before asking, “Right, what about a cooler?”
I motion for him to follow me. “Now that I do have. Right this way, Thibault.” He picks out a medium sized blue cooler and slips me a five-dollar bill. “Take care now, I’ll see you next time,” he bids me farewell. I chuckle softly under my breath. Next time most likely means later tonight.
Thibault’s absence leaves me alone with my thoughts once again. Yes, the money that living in the pack would reward sounds enticing, but I always remember the reasons I left. Always remember I’m thankful for my freedom. Even if working myself to death is the price I pay.
Pack life isn’t something I wanted to be a part of.
Especially as an alpha’s son. It was a constant fight with another male.
Always being bombarded by wolves interested only in the title I could provide and nothing more.
The fact that my father is a murderer, rapist, and misogynistic piece of shit.
Having to see how he degraded August while putting me on a pedestal.
Exhausting. All of it.
Managing Burrow’s is exhausting in its own way.
Endless tasks, larger volume trucks every week, constant display changes, and no additional payroll to help get it all done.
I huff out a laugh. Not that the employees show up for the hours they’re already scheduled anyway.
Nevertheless, the peaceful atmosphere of Tarot Lake makes picking up the slack worth it.
That is until the high-pitched beep that haunts my dreams echoes through the store.
Knowing I’m being called to the front, my eyes hit the back of my skull.
I debate running away. Not now, Wren. Please not now.
I just want to be left alone to rot with my price changes.
I can’t mentally handle a customer interaction.
“Skyler, I need you at the front,” comes her sing-song voice over the intercom.
A tone more appropriate for a toddler than her boss.
I’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard.
With a quick look at the ceiling, wondering if the Goddess would answer me if I prayed for the store to spontaneously combust, I stalk to the front.
My head throbs as the customer finally walks out the door. After ten minutes of back and forth, I guess they decided the fifty-cent discount on their paper towels wasn’t worth it after all.
Through the glass doors, I see a sleek, black SUV pull up.
Sage Rivera. Thank fuck. Time always seems to fly when I’m talking to her.
I glance over my shoulder at Wren, surprised to find her back to me as she stocks the cigarette case behind the counter instead of taking selfies.
She has her dark red hair pulled into a braid between the tortoiseshell horns atop her head.
Those seem largely inconvenient. I thank my lucky stars I wasn’t born a demon.
“If you need me — don’t.” I grumble as I brush past her, quickly stepping up into the office, and grabbing my jacket.
Wren chuckles and rolls her eyes as I close the office door behind me.
“Right, I’ll just tell everyone you finally quit.
” She teases, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling with her smile as she uses her claws to tear open another carton to stock.
With a huff, I step outside to light my own cigarette.
“What brings you out?” I ask Sage as she leans against her cruiser. She crosses her arms over her chest and I can’t help being jealous of her muscles. Maybe someday my biceps will look like that. I take a long drag of the cigarette to stop myself from laughing out loud at my own train of thought.
No, I’ll never look like Sage. She runs track and lifts weights for fun. I sip whiskey on my porch. The most running I do is seeing if I can grab a snack before the ads go off on whatever show I’m streaming. I refuse to pay to turn the fucking things off.
“Oh, you know. Nowhere better to catch various criminals than Burrow’s,” Sage jests. “Got anything fun going on tonight?” I shake my head, exhaling the smoke away from her. “Not yet. Unless you consider explaining the same thing ten times in a row to be fun.”
I plop down on the pallet of dog and cat food we keep outside. Which, in a way, it feels wrong to be a wolf sitting on a bag of pellets for your domesticated brethren. I personally can’t fathom owning an animal, but the witches love that shit.
Sage laughs in such an uncouth manner, but her joy is infectious, and I always find myself snorting alongside her.
“Man, Sky, I don’t know how you fucking do this.
” Sage reaches to her belt turning the volume down on her handheld as dispatch calls for a firetruck.
“I’d rather go on a high-speed chase from here to California than repeat the same shit over and over.
Your job seems a lot like baby-sitting.”
She has no idea how accurate that is. Before I can formulate a proper response or compare her own job as chief of police to scolding toddlers, my eyes catch on a woman stepping out of a vehicle across the lot, and my whole world stops.
With a pale hand, she flips her long chocolate hair over her shoulder as she leans down, popping her head in the door and saying something to the driver.
She closes the door and I can’t help myself from taking in every detail of her.
She’s dressed in an oversized sienna sweater and black pants that hug every curve.
As she and another woman walk toward the entrance to the store I take in her striking amber eyes.
They’re unlike anything I’ve seen before. Sunlight trapped in a glass vial.
As the pair steps onto the sidewalk near us, her scent floods my nostrils.
The sweetest honeyed vanilla. There’s not a bakery on earth that could produce a more decadent scent.
Even before scenting her, I knew this woman was going to turn my world off its axis; like she was carved into existence just for me.
Sage shakes my shoulder and I come back to reality.
“Uh, earth to Skyler, you in there?” She quips.
I run my fingers through my hair, looking back over my shoulder in the direction of the mysterious, yet eerily familiar woman.
“Who is she?” The words fall out of my mouth before I realize I’m saying them.
Sage shrugs, “No idea, I’ve never seen her before.
” I huff, rising off the pallet. “You know everyone, Rivera. Don’t tell me you’re slacking on the job.
” She clicks her tongue, “Still with the last name, really? And seriously. This is the first time I’ve ever seen her.
” Waggling her eyebrows at me, she adds, “I can go find out for you, though.”
I playfully punch her shoulder as I head inside.
“I’ll find out for myself, thank you very much.
” As I step inside, the dark-haired goddess is talking with Wren at the register.
Fate is hard at work as I see Wren hand across a clipboard, which I know holds an application.
No reason for her to even fill that shit out. She’ll be hired on the spot.
Working with her may not be the smartest move.
But I want — need to get to know her. She walks away, clipboard and pen in tow, back to who I can tell now must be her mother.
They have the same cheeks and round eyes.
Her mother has the same dark hair, just lightened at the bottom.
Neither of them notices me, which makes me decide to look busy and inconspicuous, grabbing a hand scanner to check prices.
I coincidentally end up on the same aisle as the pair of them every few minutes. They are filling a cart, but with nothing to indicate they are paranormal. No potion bottles, no blood jugs, not even the salve for us shifters that helps with joint pain. Just regular, everyday food items.
A human mate for a wolf is unheard of. A vampire, perhaps. Maybe even a witch or demon in rare cases. But a human? It’s seemingly impossible for them to be able to feel the mate bond in the way a paranormal would.
Mate?
Why is that where my mind went? Around the sixth year after leaving the pack I accepted that I’d be a loner for the rest of my life. Now at twenty-nine and a decade of devoting my life to Burrow’s, it seems like wishful thinking that the Goddess would give me such a blessing.
Meeting your mate outside of pack life is rare.
Not to mention my asshole of a father wants me back enough that if I did have a mate, they’d be in danger.
He’ll use them to get to me. He’s threatened to do it, and I don’t have to wonder if he was bluffing or not. If she were my mate, no one could know.
And as a human, how would she ever accept our bond?
Typically, the mated pair would drink from the Crystalline Water while in their wolf forms to start the ceremony.
Whereas centuries ago, a wolf could only feel the bond with another wolf; the Goddess amended her rules to include any paranormal species after wolves began rejecting their mates in favor of their other paranormal partners.
Could her amendment include humans as well? Yet, even if a human did drink the Crystalline Water, with no magic flowing through their veins, could the bond be solidified?
My mind clears instantly as I see her unloading her groceries onto the register. Rushing to the front, I turn the corner just in time to hear her melodic voice ask, “Is your manager in by chance? To hand my application to.” Wren opens her mouth to answer, but I don’t give her the chance.
“Hello, I’m Skyler Ashford, the manager here.
I’d be happy to take your application.” Her cheeks flush; she’s impossibly gorgeous.
She pushes her hair behind her right ear and places the clipboard in my outstretched hand.
“Amethyst Owens,” she near whispers, “nice to meet you.” Amethyst finishes her statement in a more confident tone.
What an enchanting name for the woman before me.
She clears her throat and looks up at me with those intoxicating eyes.
“I apologize for seeming reserved. Admittedly, I have been through an unpleasant chapter in life lately, and I am still learning to come back to myself.” She stands a bit straighter as she adds, “Rest assured, I am a very motivated worker. I have a track record of outstanding attendance, and my performance standards are always met or exceeded.”
Wren rolls her eyes, laughing behind the counter. It takes everything in me not to jump across it. I know my eyes are glowing as my feral counterpart comes to the surface, infuriated over the rude gesture toward Amethyst.
Forcing myself to focus on the conversation instead, I ask, “What’s your availability like, Amethyst?” She laughs. It’s one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard. “Wide open,” she answers.
“Excellent,” I try my best not to let my mind wander inappropriate places due to her choice of words, “as long as you’re over eighteen, I’d like to welcome you on board.” She nods as a smile lights up her face. “Quite. Twenty-four to be exact.”
“In that case, welcome to Burrow’s. You’ll be doing a little of everything.
Register, stock, clean-up.” I tilt my head in question, “Can you start in the morning at eight?” Her mom had finished paying and putting the bags back in the cart but was hanging back to give Amethyst and I room to talk.
Amethyst glances at her mom for a split second, then back to me, pure happiness shining in her eyes.
“I will see you at eight, Mr. Ashford.”
“Please, call me?—”
“Skyler,” Wren’s sharp voice cuts through my own.
Amethyst jolts as if she just got caught doing something illegal.
Perhaps she did. In half an hour she’s waltzed in and stole my heart.
“Sorry, Skyler. I just need to check in.” It’s Draeven, the blood vendor.
I lift my hand in a slight wave to him, “I got you, Drae. Just one moment and I’ll be right with you. ”
Turning my attention back to Amethyst, her eyes are locked on me.
She can’t be human. She feels drawn to me just like I am to her.
She is a mystery — one I will be working diligently to solve.
“I should let you get to work,” she motions toward Draeven.
Is that… fear that passes through her eyes as she studies Drae, then flicks her gaze to Wren’s horns?
“Will I see you in the morning?” With a playful smirk I answer, “Eight a.m. sharp. Don’t be late.” I wink at her as I begrudgingly turn to Draeven. “Oh, and wear a black polo if you have it!” I call over my shoulder.
How the tides turned for me. What I thought was a completely shit day turned out to be one of the best days of my life. I’ll have to thank Olyver and his runny nose next time I see him.