Page 5 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

The mortician's thin fingers reached for the arrangement, his nails perfectly manicured and oddly shiny in the subdued lighting of the reception area. "Beautiful work as always," he murmured, inhaling deeply as if the flowers' scent could somehow mask the clinical sterility that permeated the building.

"Thank you," I replied, maintaining a professional distance as I handed over the delivery slip. "The family requested something elegant but understated."

Mr. Graner nodded, studying the arrangement with an intensity that seemed excessive even for someone in his line of work. "You've captured the essence perfectly. Life amidst death... the transient beauty that reminds us of our own mortality." His voice had taken on a dreamy quality that made my skin prickle.

"I just followed the order specifications," I said flatly, eager to complete the transaction and leave. I still had to bring the other flowers in, so I wanted to get this over as quickly as possible.

“I have more to bring in, can you lead me where I can put them, then I can get the others.” I asked, smile forced as I shifted one foot to the other.

Mr. Graner's eyes lingered on me a moment too long before he gestured toward the main viewing room. "Of course. Right this way." The mortuary was eerily quiet, our footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors. I'd been here dozens of times before, but something about today felt different—a heaviness in the air that wasn't just grief or formaldehyde.

"You seem tense today," Mr. Graner observed as we entered the viewing room. The casket was already positioned at the front, draped in a deep blue cloth. "Something troubling you?"

"Just a busy day," I replied, carefully setting the arrangement on the stand beside the casket.

Mr. Graner gave a low hum, and was about to say something when a woman came in interrupting us, “Sorry to bother you, but someone is here to see you.” She was looking at Mr. Graner, before moving to follow the woman.

“Place the flowers anywhere or arrange them like you usually do. It's up to you, depending on how busy you are. I shall see you before you leave…” It was a statement and not a request, making me give a tense smile. He was creepy but he had never done anything wrong.

“Of course.” I told him, and he gave a nod before leaving me alone making me sigh in relief.

Left alone in the viewing room, I arranged the flowers with practiced efficiency, my movements automatic as my mind drifted. The silence of the mortuary wrapped around me like a shroud, broken only by the soft rustle of petals and stems as I positioned each arrangement. Every so often, I'd pause, certain I heard footsteps approaching, only to be met with nothing but stillness.

When I finished with the first batch, I returned to the van for the remaining arrangements. The late afternoon had deepened into early evening, the sky now a watercolor of purples and oranges. As I pulled open the van's rear doors, a prickling sensation crawled up my spine—that same feeling of being watched that had haunted me the night before.

I spun around, scanning the parking lot. Empty, save for a few cars that presumably belonged to the mortuary staff.

“It's nothing.” I mutter to myself as I quickly grabbed the last flowers to make my way back inside.

The mortuary's chill seemed to seep into my bones as I hurried down the corridor with the second batch of arrangements. The feeling of being watched persisted, making my skin prickle despite the rational part of my brain insisting I was alone. I paused at the threshold of the viewing room, taking a steadying breath before stepping inside.

A soft sound from the far corner made me freeze.

"Hello?" I called, my voice sounding unnaturally loud in the hushed space. No answer came, but as my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I noticed a shadow shift near the back exit—a fleeting movement that could have been nothing but felt like everything.

"Mr. Graner?" I tried again, setting down the flowers with trembling hands. When silence was my only response, I moved quickly, arranging the flowers with practiced efficiency that belied my racing heart. As I finished I heard something and I quickly turned around eyes looking around me. There was nothing.

“It's all in my head.” I mutter to myself as I step back so I could look at how the full display of the flower arrangements looked. I nodded, about to turn and leave when I heard fast footsteps and someone slamming into me, then being pinned down.

A small whine of distressed left my throat, but the person pinning me down only tightened his hold on me and I could only stay still not knowing what the hell was going on.

Chapter Four

Mybackhitsthecold floor, and for a moment, all I can do is wheeze, flailing against the weight pressing me down. My vision tunnels, my chest spasming as I gasp for air, fury rising like bile as I smelled the sharp scent of Alpha around me.

"Let me go, bastard!" I hiss through clenched teeth, my voice raw and ragged. His grip tightens instead, but there’s a slight quiver to it, like my rage is enough to shake him.

I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except getting this heavy, arrogant brute off of me. My body writhes, muscles screaming as I push, kick, anything to shift his mass.

"Get the hell off me!" I snarl, struggling harder. He’s just opening his mouth, maybe to growl something back, when the door creaks wide.

Mr. Graner, shuffles in, his sharp, observant eyes behind thick glasses taking in the scene with unsettling calm. Another Alpha follows, younger, sharper, his gaze flicking from me to my assailant.

"Release her," Mr. Graner commands, his voice as soft as paper but carrying the weight of stone.

The Alpha on top of me hesitates. Just for a second. But that second is everything.

My instincts scream at me to fight, to claw and bite, but I’m pinned beneath the certainty of his strength. My bones creak, my muscles burn. The scent of Alpha musk, clogs my nose, thick and suffocating, making my stomach churn.

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