Page 2 of UNAwere

It’s the least Warner can do after being so steadfast in his decision of wanting an arranged bride dumped on his doorstep.

‘His assistant has made the point of highlighting how this sets Warner’s plans back a few weeks, so I don’t think he’s impressed,’ Nolan warns.

I blow a raspberry. ‘Oh, boo. And here I was, hoping we were going to be the best of friends.’

‘Ifind it weird he’s not already married. Isn’t he ancient?’ Maeve asks later that night.

I’m lying beside her on her bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars she put on the ceiling of her bedroom when she was nine.

‘Um, he’s thirty-something… That’s not ancient, Maevey.’

‘Either way,’ Maeve mumbles under her breath. ‘It’s weird that’s what he wanted for the alliance. A bride.’

‘You’ve gotta remember, the Primrose pack are a lot more connected to their wolf-selves than we are. They’re all about tradition, and primal stuff, and… being packsters.’

‘“Packsters”?’ Maeve’s voice is small.

I reach over and stroke her hair, getting up on my elbow. ‘Yup. Packsters.’

‘So, you’re really going?’ she asks.

‘I’d rather me than you.’ I wave a hand. ‘Y’know, ’cause I’m thirty-one and don’t have much going for me. And I’m so ancient.’ She scoffs when I tussle her hair. ‘Might as well spice up my life a little. And, hey, it could be fun?’

‘You’ve never been serious, not one moment of our lives.’ She sulks. ‘Even when Mum and Dad died, you were cracking jokes and trying to make me laugh.’

I ignore the shard of ice that her words send through my heart and get off the bed. ‘I’m just… y’know.’

‘No, Sybbie, I don’t know.’

I pick at my nails, grateful for the dim light in the room as she gazes up at me, waiting for my answer. I draw in a quick breath to try and ease the ache in my chest.

‘I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll be leaving next week, so it could be nice to spend some time together before I go back to work on Monday?’

Maeve rolls over, turning her back to me. ‘Okay.’

I sigh but don’t prod, making my way out of her room and across the hall. When the door to my room is closed behind me, I climb into bed. The walls in here are covered in posters, old photos, and cut-outs from magazines and books that I’ve collected since I was a kid. I stare at them all, realising it won’t be long until I’m not sleeping in this room anymore.

I bite down on my tongue and sink into the pillows.

‘How in the heck am I going to survive here without you?’ Ollie asks me on Monday morning.

I lean on the counter in the break room, hating the heartbroken expression that appeared on their face when I told them this would be my last day.

‘You’ll be okay,’ I murmur. ‘You’ve got Henrietta.’

They scoff. ‘We both know Henrietta is a narc.’

I grin into my cup of coffee. ‘Well, we’ve got each other on socials. I’ll keep liking your archery photos, and you can keep liking my pictures of my crochet projects.’ I throw them a finger gun. ‘It’ll be like I never left!’

Ollie sighs, stands, and washes out their cup in the sink beside me. ‘Work is going to be miserable.’

‘Maybe the person replacing me is just as delightful?’ I offer. ‘Maybe even more so.’

‘No one is as kind as you, Sybbie,’ they say. I pass them a tea towel so they can dry their hands, and their brow buckles. ‘See!’

I laugh, even though my throat is burning. ‘I’m sorry.’

Ollie shakes their head. ‘No, it’s fine. I get it. Before becoming work besties with you, I knew you were the alpha’s daughter. Something like this was bound to happen.’ Their mouth screws up, and the opalescent lipstick they wear glints purple under the lights. ‘But can Primrose catch up with the times already?’