Chapter 8 - Trina
After our dinner date in the park, Owen seems to back off, and the tension between us eases. Getting ready for work a couple of days later, I note that he’s kept respectfully out of my way, only checking in with me when it’s absolutely necessary.
The slight sense of freedom gives me room to breathe, and I take my time drinking my morning coffee and watching the birds in the garden. When Owen comes in, I don’t immediately feel the need to put my shields up. Instead, I find myself smiling warmly at him.
Careful. Don’t let warmth turn into heat.
“Good morning,” I say, shoving the thought away from me before it can develop.
“Morning,” he answers. “Did you need a ride to work today, or is Lacey taking you?”
“I’ll go with you, if that’s okay. I’m not doing as many extra hours at the moment.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll just grab my keys.”
I watch Owen leave the room, feeling a strange tangle of emotions warring in my belly.
I wanted him to give me space, but now, when he gives it to me, I feel like it’s a brush-off. Get your shit together, Trina!
The little pep talk does very little to settle my emotions, and by the time Owen returns, I’m even more confused than I was before. We drive into town immersed in our usual silence, and I can’t even tell if it’s awkward or not.
It was better when I was angry with him. Everything was simple. Now I don’t know what the fuck is going on.
“Can you get a ride home?” Owen asks as we pull up in front of the museum. “I’ve got a few things to do today, and I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.”
“No problem,” I reply. “I’ll see you later.”
Owen waves as I get out of the car, and as he pulls away, I feel a hollow ache behind my heart.
Stop it.
Sighing, I head inside and say hi to Sadie and Lacey.
The museum is still preparing for the upcoming event, and Fern is having another meeting with the co-partner.
All of us are too busy to sit around and gossip, which I’m grateful for.
After greeting my friends, I go out to the main library to organize the history section.
I’ve only been there a few minutes when someone comes in. I hide behind one of the stacks, wondering if I’m mentally stable enough for basic human interaction. I remind myself that this is my job, and that our co-partner—Angela—will be extremely pissed with Fern if any of us aren’t doing our best.
Holding in a sigh, I try to summon a smile as I walk into the next aisle. A short, pretty woman turns to me, her eyes bright with excitement.
Oh no. Interaction imminent.
“Hi!” she says, enthusiastically. “Do you work here?”
“Yes, I do,” I reply. “Can I help you?”
“You most certainly can,” she says, looking up at the bookshelves. “I seem to have gotten quite lost in here. I’m looking for town history.”
“Well, you’re in the right place,” I reply, smiling despite myself. “What were you after, specifically?”
“Founders records,” she says, her grin widening. “I moved here a couple of months ago, and I’m just fascinated by the lore. I’m Hyacinth, by the way.”
“Trina,” I reply, giving her hand a brief shake. “I’ll take you over to the reference section. These are the books available to the public. There are some others in the museum section, and we have transcripts of those because we aren’t supposed to let people handle them.”
“Oh, I understand,” Hyacinth says, following me towards the reference books. “But I do think that you can’t get a real impression of history from a transcript—and who says the scribe recorded it right?”
“You got me,” I reply, laughing. “I’ve said the exact same thing myself. It’s the burden of history.”
“Indeed,” Hyacinth says, putting on a pair of reading glasses as we stop by the stacks. “That’s why I do as much research as possible, to try and get an objective view.”
“Is this for study, or work?” I ask.
“No!” she scoffs. “Definitely not work. I’m actually a baker up at Sweet Stuffs, the little place on the corner.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “I know the place. This is just a hobby, then?”
“An obsession,” Hyacinth says in a stage whisper. “I’m a sucker for magic, witches, and wolves, aren’t you?”
For one split second, I’m paralyzed with complete shock, but I quickly cover it with a bright laugh.
“Oh, those silly old tales!” I say. “That’s all fantasy. None of it is real.”
“Well, you may say so,” Hyacinth says, adjusting her glasses. “But that doesn’t stop me pondering.”
“No, I suppose not,” I reply, backing away. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I practically flee from her, knowing that I’m not adept enough at lying to cover up what I know about the subject. Even though I try to go back to work, Hyacinth’s words keep tugging at my brain, and I find myself in the shadowy back corner of the stacks, looking through the dark arts books.
I’d love to go through that old library out back, but it’s Sadie’s territory. If there was anything there that could help, she would have told me.
I flick through one of the spell books, weighing my feelings back and forth. The idea of me being a witch is a pretty impossible one, but I’m starting to warm up to it.
It would be nice to have some power of my own. I still feel like a useless human, and I’ve been unable to help the pack—which means staying stuck with Owen.
As I go back to shelving books, I remind myself that Owen has gone to extreme efforts lately to give me space and has stopped acting like an arrogant jerk. That hasn’t stopped the little flare-ups, though, and there is a rising tension between us that can only mean one thing.
He’s attracted to me… and I’m attracted to him, too.
I shove the thought away, not wanting to face it, but it keeps coming back until I slam the books down in frustration and go outside for some fresh air.
When I was perving on him and his friends, everything seemed so easy and fun. Why did he have to be such a jerk about this? It could have been beautiful between us.
As quickly as that thought comes, I dismiss it. It wouldn’t have mattered how sweet and caring he was. If he’d approached me talking about werewolves and witches, I would have immediately told him to get some therapy.
“Hey, Trina,” Sadie says, coming through the museum doors. “I was just looking for you. Did you want a ride home?”
“Sure, that would be great,” I reply. “Owen’s busy.”
“You didn’t come out for lunch.”
“No, I was caught up with the books. I still have a lot to catch up on.”
“Ugh. We do, too. Damn Angela and her big, fancy occasion.”
“She isn’t around much, so don’t worry,” I say. “She never stays in town long, but she likes to show off the place to some of her rich friends. Before you know it, she’ll be back in the big city, and Fern can go back to running the place on her own.”
“Fair enough, but this is still Silver Valley, not Paris.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Well, it will be Paris for a night, at least. Have you seen the dress requirements?”
“Yep. And I might not attend simply on that basis.”
We laugh together as we go out to the parking lot, and in that moment of closeness, I want to ask Sadie about the books in the private room out back and if there’s anything else we could do to trigger my powers.
But what if I don’t have any powers and she’s trying really hard to be nice to me by not saying anything?
That thought makes me shrink back into myself, and I don’t ask Sadie any questions. We stay on light topics for the drive home, and when we get to Owen’s, there are a few pack members waiting out front.
“Oh, it looks like Owen’s not back yet,” Sadie says. “Do you need me to hang around?”
“No, it’s okay,” I say, not really meaning it. “He won’t be long, and I haven’t interacted much with the pack. I should get to know everyone.”
“Okay,” Sadie says, smiling as I get out. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As I walk towards the house, I realize every single person is staring right at me. None of them is wearing a kind expression.
Not quite hostile… but definitely not welcoming, either.
“Hi,” I say as confidently as possible. “What can I do for you?”
“Owen said he’d be back by six,” one of the women says. “He was going to tell us what the council planned to do about the… situation.”
“Situation?” I repeat, forcing the word past a lump in my throat.
“You,” one of the men says, pushing his way to the front. “The situation is you.”
“Calm down, Riley,” an older woman says. “None of this is her fault.”
“Oh, really?” another woman sneers. “The ‘magic’ or whatever was supposed to cure us, but since Owen took her as his mate, people are still dropping like flies.”
I swallow hard. “I have been trying as hard as I can—”
“Really,” Riley cuts me off. “Looks like you’re enjoying the alpha’s wealth and doing sweet fuck-all, human.”
He spits out the last word like a curse. Fire rises in me, but it’s quickly followed by fear.
There are so many of them. And I’m alone…
Bickering breaks out through the crowd, and the most frightening thing is, no one is actually on my side. There are pack members completely opposed to me being here, and the others are implying I don’t have the wits to even be involved in the conversation.
“Look,” I almost yell, trying to cut through their voices. “I’m sorry that I—”
“Sorry that you exist?” one of the older men snaps. “Owen has disgraced us with this action. Bringing a mangy dog like you into our midst. If you would just—”
“Just what?”
Owen’s voice blasts through the crowd, practically ringing through my bones. Some of the pack even cover their ears, and everyone steps back as Owen strides across the lawn and puts himself between them and me.
“Is there a problem?” he asks, his voice cracking like a whip. I can only see his back, but he’s standing tall, muscles tense, poised to fight at the slightest provocation.
I’ve never seen him look so… sexy.
“Alpha,” Riley says. “It’s good you’re here. Now we can talk about—”
Owen fixes his gaze on Riley, and the two stare each other down. Riley quickly lowers his head, hiding his gaze and shuffling away.
“I won’t have this,” Owen says, his clear, calm voice resonating through the crowd. “I know you came to hear updates from the council, and I will give them to you, but you can’t just linger on my front lawn like stray dogs. And you absolutely cannot insult my mate, under any circumstances.”
Oh, my, fucking, God.
Owen turns to sweep his gaze across the crowd, his gleaming green eyes glowing in the dying light of the setting sun. With the rush of adrenaline flooding through him, his shoulders look even wider, and as he slowly clenches his fists, his biceps bulge under the thin t-shirt.
I slowly take a step back, but that just gives me a great view of his tapered legs and toned ass framed by his tight jeans.
Owen is still talking, and some of the pack members are still grumbling, but it looks like the situation has been diffused. I want to feel relieved about it, but now I’m full of panic for a whole new reason.
I can’t just go inside with him feeling like this! Something will happen, I know it!
The fear that floods through me then is so powerful and complete that it overcomes every other sensation in my body. The idea of being alone with Owen at that moment is more terrifying than facing off against the pack.
Owen is dismissing the last few troublemakers, and I take several steps back.
Panic rises in my guts, and before he can turn around and speak to me, I bolt into the house, through the hallway, straight into my room.
I slam the door and press my back against it, panting with fear and other emotions I’d rather not admit to.
This has to stop. I have to get out of here… but how?