The irony of her statement—as I sit here with five conventional medicine pills that I’m somehow unable to replace standing between me and disaster—makes my throat tighten. I should tell her about the medications, ask for help. But the disappointment that would follow feels impossible to bear.
“I won’t,” I promise, the lie burning my tongue.
FIVE
GRAYSON
I’ve been followingHolly 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’llnotice 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 maskingher 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.
