Page 36 of Stalked By the Alphas
“What about food? Water?” I ask, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears.
“We’ll bring her what she needs,” Carter replies dismissively. “She’ll be completely dependent on us. That’s the point.”
Noah adds, “We’ll need to establish a routine. Regular meals and bathroom breaks. It’s important to maintain structure.”
“The only thing we don’t want her to get used to is who will be coming for her,” Carter says.
I nod, feeling my insides shudder, but then I remember my cock inside her, and I shake it off. This is how it has to be. Hazel left us, cut us from her life and now she will be punished.
24
HAZEL
The fogof my heat finally starts to lift, leaving me exhausted and aching. I blink groggily, trying to orient myself. Sunlight streams through the gap under the curtains. How long have I been out of it? A quick glance at the phone tells me three days. Wincing as I think of the shop, even though I do this every season, this time I didn’t have time to prepare. It was just left with no sign up or anything.
I groan as I push myself up, muscles protesting the movement. My throat is parched, and my stomach growls insistently. I need food and water desperately. But shower first. My hair is matted from sweat and endless tossing and turning.
After a quick shower, I feel marginally more human. Wrapping myself in my dressing gown, I make my way downstairs. The house feels eerily quiet after days lost in the throes of my heat.
In the kitchen, I gulp down water greedily before I open the freezer and pull out a frozen pizza. I don’t give a fuck it’s only six in the morning. I’m famished. I place it in the oven and set the timer, while I make a cup of tea. I will eat and then get dressed and head to the shop. I have to make sure I’m open on time today.
I gulp when I remember the masked, porcelain doll, but I shove it aside to deal with when I get there. My mind feels remarkably clear this morning, and it’s a welcome relief after feeling so lost lately.
As the pizza cooks, filling the kitchen with its savoury aroma, I pull the sheets out of the dryer, which I’m glad I remembered at some point, to swap them over from the washing machine and carry them upstairs. I dump them on the bed and set about stripping off the nest. Taking those sheets downstairs, I set them on to wash and then the timer dings. I focus on retrieving my pizza and slicing it up, my mouth watering. The first bite is heaven, my body craving the calories after days of neglect.
Finishing my meal, I tidy up and feel a thousand times better. I head upstairs to get dressed. The sun streams through the windows when I open the curtains. It’s already a hot day, even though it’s still early. I start folding the laundry, and once it’s all put away tidily, I get dressed, deciding on a yellow summer dress.
A momentary chill runs down my spine as I slip on my sandals despite the warm morning. The unsettling feeling that’s been plaguing me recently resurfaces. Ishake it off, determined to focus on getting back to normal.
I gather my things and head out, locking the door behind me. The street is quiet as I walk towards my bookshop. Suddenly, I get the sensation of being watched. I glance over my shoulder, my gaze drawn towards the alleyway. My heart stops as I see a figure in the shadows, barely visible from here. But then he is gone.
“It’s nothing,” I mutter. “Just shadows.”
Feeling disheartened that my feeling of anxiety is returning, I approach the shop. My heart races as I remember the figurine. I take a deep breath before unlocking the door, steeling myself. I gulp when I place my bag on the counter and look down. The masked magician is there, still smashed to bits.
“That’s a good sign, though, right? It means I didn’t imagine it.”
Trying to convince myself of this is less easy than saying it out loud, but I clear my throat and set about clearing it up, taking a savage sort of delight in dumping it in the bin.
Then I busy myself opening up, trying to ignore the nagging doubt in the back of my mind. As I flip the sign to ‘Open’, movement across the street catches my eye. For a split second, I swear I see a flash of a white mask, but when I look again, it’s just Mr Hatley walking his dog.
“Fuck,” I grunt and turn around, walking away andshaking my head. I check the clock to see if it is too early to ring the doctor. But I must do that today to make an appointment to see if I’m losing my mind.
I jump a country mile when the door opens, and I spin, hands at the ready to do... what exactly?
“Hi, Hazel,” Carter Richmond says, closing the door behind him. “Been a while.”
Shit! Shit! Fuck!
“Carter,” I croak. “What are you doing here?”
“Is that all you have to say?” he asks, keeping his distance, those enigmatic blue eyes boring into mine. Even from here, I can smell cedarwood and old books, his unique alpha scent that brings back a flood of memories I’ve tried so desperately to push away. Panic hits my guts, and I stumble back.
“I—I...”
He smiles sadly and takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “I know it’s been a long time, Hazel. I’m sorry to show up unannounced like this.”
I grip the edge of the counter, trying to steady myself. My heart is racing, memories of our shared past flooding back. The four of us - Carter, Noah, Zach, and me - inseparable as children, but then there was the pact and all the doubts that raised about me.
