AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But her mind wouldn’t shut off.
Her money was drying up fast. She couldn’t keep staying in motels and inns, expecting to find the perfect town and job and community on a whim. Clearly, she had made a wrong move, leaving the pack without so much as a plan for her own survival.
She missed the safety and routine of pack life. She missed feeling protected and being embraced. Missed the physical contact being in a pack allowed her. A very dominant part of her thrived in a pack setting, and leaving the social structure of it felt unnatural. She had no connections here and was utterly alone.
Which just presented more problems. Could she truly return to pack life now, having been spurned so harshly? What if she was unlearning how to be a wolf, and every day, she was deviating more from her nature? She felt displaced.
She wasn’t sure how to deal with adapting, but she was an expert at healing. Turning back, at this point, was not an option. She desperately needed to build resources if she were even to think about continuing on this path.
With her current funds, she could stay about a week and a half in this motel, assuming she ate very lightly and only spent about ten to fifteen dollars a day on food. In that time, she would need to find some kind of financial support for herself and give back to this community. Whether she would stay or not, she was burning through gas money, just indecisively moving from town to town, never settling on anything.
She began to think of easy jobs that might take her on and felt a sudden bit of anxiety just thinking about working a retail job. But if she wanted to survive, she might have to make some hard decisions.
She remembered the newspaper bin from the front desk and dreaded that she might have to pick up a copy if she wanted an actual, concrete idea of where she might find a job. She took her clothing from the rack, which was thankfully a bit drier now, and rushed outside in her damp clothes, grateful the rain had abated in the few hours she was alone. The moon shone white through the gray clouds that paved the skyline.
She smiled at the clerk as she picked up a copy of The Crest, the town’s local newspaper, and then left five dollars on the counter, telling him to keep the change. He was engrossed in the evening’s football game but acted appreciative nonetheless.
Returning to her room, Harlow initially wondered whether she might join the newspaper before realizing that it seemed to be family-run. Not only were there very few ads, but the paper was only about eight pages thick, and every byline featured the last name “Tabor.” She tore through the paper, barely caring about the front page’s mention of tourism surges or the two-page sudoku section, finding the classified section nudged toward the back of the paper.
It was an unsettlingly barren section, wedged above a large full-page-length spread pleading for advertising support. Few jobs were listed, and Harlow dreaded that she might have to find work in a larger city.
The local cafe, the Grinning Egg, needed waitresses. The pay wasn’t great, and probably wouldn’t cover the cost of this inn, but if she could find an apartment somewhere in town or nearby, she might be able to handle two part-time jobs and make it work.
Beside the blurb, she found another listing for a local law office, Patton and Sons, where she could be a front desk and office assistant. The pay was slightly better, and it did offer benefits, but she wondered how she was going to find job references because it looked a good deal more professional than the other offers on the page. She settled on going out and investigating the office more tomorrow to see if she stood a chance and find out what the job atmosphere felt like.
Several more job listings, written in such small boxes and with such tiny print that she wanted a magnifying glass, filled the page. She found a posting for the Forest Crest library, as an assistant. She found some local fast food places seeking crew members, offering even less compensation than the cafe. If she were really desperate, she might be able to supplement one of these jobs with the cafe job.
She realized with disappointment that the job she really wanted was not listed anywhere, and she couldn’t use her natural skills as a healer. No jobs were listed for medical professionals, nurses, medical coders, or veterinary assistants, at least not anywhere in The Crest classified section.
If she wanted to find any kind of job where she felt truly fulfilled—where she was offering a unique contribution and not just repeating the same mindless routine—she would probably have to go out and look. Or do more in-depth sleuthing.
She pulled out her laptop and fiddled with the wi-fi signal before she finally passed out with her computer in her lap. She slept better than the previous two nights but dreamed of a simpler time, when she was back with the pack and felt welcome and valued. She dreamed of Vincent’s embrace. She dreamed that it had all been a misunderstanding, and he never meant to reject her. And in her slumber, she was overwhelmed by sorrow.
Chapter 5
Atlas
Atlas took pride in his office. Tones of rich mahogany filled the room alongside hints of the savory nectar of honeysuckle, dianthus, and jasmine. The office’s round parquet flooring, pristine desks, leather chairs, and sprawling bookshelves competed with flora, which hung from the ceiling, sat on desks, and twisted out of the ground in decorative pots. The room’s art deco aesthetic had been pried from the arms of the roaring twenties, but a jungle drove into and subverted that aesthetic at every turn.
Atlas had never noticed the tonal difference between him, his security advisor, and his beta, but the acoustics of the room amplified them. Whereas Atlas’s voice tended toward sounding aggressive, even in kindness, Zachary’s voice was almost robotic, and Colt’s voice had a rhythm and a flourish to it. Despite the cordial nature of their discussion, their voices seemed to run over and challenge each other.
“We were discussing pack business, Zachary,” Atlas said sternly. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing several tattoos on a broad, muscular arm. “What could be so important you’d interrupt our meeting?”
Atlas had few demands, but one rule he was always clear about was that nothing interrupted pack business. Not ever. Atlas adjusted his shirt collar and stroked his dark beard, his eyes cutting into Zachary’s with a penetrating gaze.
“This concerns the pack,” Zachary replied. Compared to Atlas, Zachary was much more business casual in mindset, able to blend into the population without suspicion. “Out in town, one of our lower members sensed a lone wolf.”
Atlas nodded and looked down at the ground, tucking his bulging arms into his broad, barrel chest. So, it was competition or exiles. The only wolves who came into Forest Crest caused problems for his pack and the town’s population.
“But it’s probably not what you’re thinking,” Zachary continued.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” Atlas shot back, his expression unaffected.
“The scent was female.”
A stunned silence resounded for a moment. Atlas wasn’t sure what to make of this. From the looks on everybody’s faces, nobody was.
“You’re joking, right?” Colt spoke up, his voice melodic. Atlas always said he had a voice like a beatnik but could never quite explain what that meant. It was something his father had always told him as a child, when he sounded needlessly profound. Atlas missed his father greatly.
