Chapter 5
FIVE
GRAYSON
I’ve been following Holly Chang for over an hour like a true stalker.
Part of me almost wishes I felt bad about giving in to the urge.
The new doctor moves differently than most. Purposeful but cautious. Head up, shoulders back—projecting confidence—but her eyes dart constantly, scanning for threats. The way she hugs buildings, sticks to shadows. Behavior of someone who doesn’t want to be noticed.
Just makes me notice her more.
From my perch on the general store’s roof, I have clear sight-lines to most of Main Street. She exits her car, checks her surroundings twice before entering the pharmacy. Interesting.
Noah’s description didn’t do her justice. Small, yes. Delicate, maybe. But there’s steel beneath that exterior. I can see it in the way she deliberately places every step, like the ground might give way beneath her feet if she isn’t careful.
Movement across the street catches my eye.
Tanner Mitchell and his hunting buddies, heading toward the bar.
Close enough that their loud laughter carries on the wind.
It’s unlikely they’ll notice me up on the roof, but probably better not to take the risk.
I slip down the fire escape, easily as anything else I’ve done a hundred times before.
The back door of the pharmacy is unlocked, as usual. Aspen never remembers to secure it, despite my reminders. I slip inside, keeping to the stockroom’s shadows.
“Heat suppressants?” Aspen’s voice carries from the front counter, deliberately lowered but still audible to my trained ears.
I freeze, now even more interested.
“Yes.” Holly sounds so controlled, but I detect the undercurrent of agitation in her tone. “How soon can you fill it?”
The apology in Aspen’s sigh is practically audible. “That’s the thing...we don’t have these in stock.”
The conversation continues, and I learn several things at once. Holly claims to be beta but needs omega medication. She’s running out. And she acts like this might verge on a genuine emergency for her.
She’s terrified of something bad happening without this medication.
“...rare medical conditions exist.” Holly’s voice is firm, defensive, but not enough to hide a note of fear.
She’s lying. Deception flags in every part of her voice—the slight pitch change, the too-formal language, the defensive posture tone.
It shouldn’t be my business. Sure, I like looking at her and hearing her voice. In fact, I’m finding it difficult to convince myself to do much else at the moment.
But Noah is interested, more so than he wants to admit to us or himself.
And that alone is enough to make me curious.
The conversation turns to alternatives for her situation. I lean against the stockroom shelves, processing. If she’s masking her designation, it explains the strange disconnect Noah described—being drawn to her without understanding why.
An omega hiding as a beta would explain it.
But how?
Suppressants aren’t enough to mask a designation. Even when they’re not in heat, omegas just aren’t that difficult to sniff out. Especially for an alpha.
Someone less observant than I am might assume it’s the same lack of scent typical of a beta.
But trying to scent her is like running into an invisible wall.
You know something is there, but you can’t see it even after it strikes you right in the face.
I’ve never encountered a beta who seemed like they had a void where the scent of a normal human being should be.
The front doorbell jingles as she leaves. I wait, counting heartbeats, before following. Maintaining distance while tracking her is simple. She’s too distracted by her phone call to notice me twenty paces back.
When she sits in her car instead of driving away, I position myself behind a newspaper stand, watching as she makes a video call. Her body language tells the story—shoulders hunched, voice subdued. Whoever she’s talking to has power over her.
And she’s one of many people who don’t know that car speakers are typically clearly audible from outside the vehicle.
“I’m using the herbs every day, Mom. I promise.”
Herbs? Why do I get the impression she isn’t talking about seasoning her food?
The call ends, but Holly sits motionless in her car, tension evident in her rigid posture.
I shouldn’t care. Not my problem. And yet...
I adjust my face covering, feeling the familiar press of fabric against skin that will always be too sensitive. Some secrets need protecting. Others need exposing before they cause harm.
I need more information before deciding which category Holly Chang falls into. For now, I’ll continue watching. Waiting. Assessing whether she’s a threat to the only two people I still care about.
And maybe a little because I just like looking at her.
Heat Mountain isn’t exactly lacking in omegas.
That’s putting it mildly. This town practically overflows with them—a biological quirk that curious scientists at the regional college have tried and failed to explain.
Something about the hot springs, some say.
Others claim it’s the mountain air. Whatever the reason, omega babies are born at nearly twice the national average.
And what happens to them? Same thing that happens in small towns everywhere.
Most of the girls don’t even make it a full year after high school graduation before they’re sporting bonding marks and planning nurseries.
By twenty, they’re pushing strollers and comparing alpha husbands over coffee shop playdates.
The ones with ambition—the ones who want something beyond what Heat Mountain offers—they scatter like autumn leaves after graduation. College campuses, big cities, anywhere that offers more than this tiny town trapped between mountains and tradition.
Can’t blame them. Not really.
It’s almost amusing when I think about it.
Even I—with half my face permanently hidden behind a skull-painted bandana and a reputation for being about as talkative as the mountain itself—have had my share of interested parties.
One of the Harmon sisters left homemade muffins on my porch three times last month.
Sarah Jenkins “accidentally” bumps into me at the general store every Thursday like clockwork.
Even Tanner Mitchell’s younger sister slipped her number into my pocket during last year’s winter festival.
Apparently, scars and silence are appealing to some. Or maybe it’s just the alpha designation. Limited options in a small town make even damaged goods marketable.
Holly confuses me, though. If she really is an omega—and my instincts rarely mislead me—she’s unlike any I’ve encountered. The way she carries herself isn’t submissive or resistant. She’s just...detached. Like she exists in a bubble separate from designation dynamics altogether.
She doesn’t act like any omega I’ve ever met. No deliberate sway to her hips designed to draw attention. No lingering glances at available alphas. No pausing to chat with every person she passes.
But no deliberate avoidance, either. Like she doesn’t have the time or desire to even acknowledge that interested alphas might exist.
I watch her car disappear down the road toward the clinic.
No matter how much he tried to hide it, Noah’s obvious fascination is reason enough to warrant further investigation.
He’s been adrift since returning to Heat Mountain, carrying the anger and guilt that have become core features of his personality.
Anything that affects him affects the fragile peace we’ve maintained since his return.
And Kai’s curiosity is another flag. For all his careless playboy posturing, Kai notices things. Sees patterns others miss. If Holly Chang caught his attention from just Noah’s description, there’s something worth noting.
My duty to this town isn’t official—no badge, no title—but I’ve appointed myself its guardian regardless. Anything that threatens its peace, or the few people I consider mine, falls under my jurisdiction.
I’ll need to learn more about Dr. Holly Chang. What she’s hiding. Why she’s hiding it. And most importantly, whether her secrets pose a danger to the tenuous balance we’ve maintained in Heat Mountain.
So I will.