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The adjustment wasn’t easy, but then she didn’t really expect it to be. Suspicion was still lingering about her and her intentions, though she hoped this might start to dwindle soon if she could just get on with a quiet life. Just keep her head down and be of some value with the work she did with Gwen.
As with her old pack, her work colleague had become the person she could rely on to be herself, to show her skills and gifts. Now this meant she had an income too and could support herself, and that felt good.
It was also a way of helping gain some trust and respect from those she felt sure might never come around, particularly Zachary, Devon, and Caroline. Gwen was a respected member of the community, and if she was willing to give Harlow a shot, that seemed to be worth listening to.
That didn’t mean it had come easily, though. She’d had to suffer the awkward interactions—the snubs, the questions, and narrowed eyes. But after what she’d been through with the Hollow Grove pack, she knew she was strong enough to deal with anything the Gravecrest pack threw at her. She’d learned recently she was stronger than she even knew, despite how vulnerable she felt. That was at least one thing she could thank Vincent and that traitorous pack for.
Harlow placed some fresh water into the cage of the Collie that had come in that morning. It looked up at her with vacant eyes, still dazed after the sedation from the morning’s surgery. “There you go, girl. You’ll be right as rain soon. You’ll see.”
“Nice work today, Harlow. You can slip off now. I’ll finish up here,” Gwen offered. “It’s been another busy one, huh?”
“Sure has. This one seems like she’s on the mend now at last.” Harlow sighed.
“She’ll be fine, soon as the meds wear off,” replied Gwen. “No more running about on the road for you, missy.” She turned back to Harlow. “You’re doing a great job. Go home and enjoy your evening.”
“Thanks, I will. See you tomorrow, then.” She went out to the office area to collect her bag, the pleasant feelings that Gwen had just stirred in her starting to wane when she realized she’d be coming face to face with the guy outside.
“Keep it together, Harlow,” she muttered to herself. The last thing she needed was to cause an issue even though it grated on her.
She left the clinic, looking around as she closed the door behind her. She saw him in the car, his gaze fixed on her from behind the windshield, like he knew and could anticipate her every move. It took everything she had not to say something, but by now she’d already decided she was going to speak to Atlas about it.
When she got back into pack territory, she headed straight for his house, more than slightly nervous at the reaction this might provoke but determined to do it anyway. If she was given safe haven and was hoping to stay, she wanted to at least be sure that some trust was being afforded her.
Knocking on the door, she steadied her breath and her nerves as she waited for an answer. She knew he was in there. She could smell his delicious scent. When he answered, there it was. It traveled up and over her, wrapping itself around her skin. That scent of his was like nothing she’d smelled before, and it made her even more nervous and confused about what was happening.
“What can I do for you?” That cold manner of his dowsed some of the heat his presence caused.
“I wanted to speak to you. Privately, if that’s okay.” She looked back into his eyes, almost overwhelmed by their dark hue. It was as if they contained so much but guarded those contents well. Long, wavy hair rested on huge shoulders, almost begging to be touched.
He said nothing, just pushed open the door, allowing her to walk past him and into his home. As she did, she felt his inhale tug at her skin, her breath hitching as she made her way inside.
“My office,” he announced.
“Sorry?” So enraptured by his scent, she shook her head to clear it and focus on his words.
“My office,” he repeated, gesturing with those eyes and his heavy brow before leading her there. Harlow could hardly move for the scent of him. It covered the place, ate up every last thing, and she was pretty sure this would mean her too if she stayed too long.
“So, what is it?” he asked, leaning against a thick, heavy desk, his arms folded across his brawny chest.
“The watcher,” she announced. Overwhelm started to pick at her—from the scent of the place, the way her body seemed to react to him, to the fact she was facing down an alpha of a pack she wasn’t well-acquainted with.
Then there was the fact that Atlas seemed to drip a coolness, a disdain that made her want to run from there and not continue the conversation she felt she needed to have. But she wouldn’t let that happen, not now.
“What about him?” He eyed her inquisitively, and she felt herself wanting to shrink under his glare.
“It makes me feel like you don’t trust me.” There, she’d said it.
“Maybe I don’t.” His stance didn’t change. If anything, he seemed to grow in confidence and stature.
“But… I’ve already told you. I’m not here to cause trouble. I just want to settle down somewhere safe.”
At this, he seemed to shift. “So you said. Maybe the watcher is there for your protection.”
She recoiled, wondering what the hell was going on. “So, what is it, that you don’t trust me or have some concern for my safety?”
A small growl left his throat, and she wondered if she’d overstepped the mark. “I’ve told you the reason why I have someone on you when you’re away from pack territory. I’d like it if you accepted that and let me do my job.
“Your job?” she replied, still confused.
