Page 21 of The Alpha's Reclaimed Mate

The older woman looked expectantly at him. “I have thought about it. Aria deserves a second chance after the… unfortunate result of her mating ceremony.”

I stared at my feet, both overcome with gratitude and fighting a swell of indignant anger, expecting as much from the librarian. It was too optimistic of both Mrs. Foster and me to think that he would be any different than anyone else.

And yet… “Very well,” he sighed. “You’re right.” Jonathan lowered his voice and leaned over the counter. “If I have to spend another day running this library between doing everyone else’s bidding, I might just go postal.”

Mrs. Foster chuckled. “I understand. Thank you, Jonathan.”

“Mm.”

Except the instant Mrs. Foster left the library, Jonathan narrowed his eyes at me, his friendly demeanor icing back into the rigidity he usually showed me. “Just because Mrs. Foster is right doesn’t mean I want to give you a job,” he said. “And it’s not really a job, alright? I’m not paying you.”

His unfriendliness made me prickle, but I swallowed my annoyance and nodded. “I don’t need pay. Just something to prove I’m not totally useless.”

The librarian opened his mouth, and I imagined him saying something like, ‘We’ll see about that,’ except over the past four years, I’d already proven my work ethic to him. He just sealed his lips and begrudgingly led me around the counter to the stairs that led down into the archives.

“Everything is organized either along those shelves or in the filing cabinets here. You can use this computer as a directory. You’re already familiar with our sorting system,” said Jonathan.

The basement opened up to a massive room with dark, wood-panelled walls, wooden beams across the ceiling, and concrete flooring. The room was illuminated by buzzing lights overhead and filled with shelves of books and binders kept safe from the rest of the pack.

“Here,” he added, tapping on a paper on the desk where the computer sat. “This is a list of all copies that need to be prepared for tomorrow.”

I nodded, skimming over the long list, assuming I’d only be responsible for collecting a few copies. Then I realized that the entire list was what I had to prepare. It had to be over twenty items, and I had to track down and photocopy all of them.

But that was nothing compared to the projects Mrs. Foster had me doing.

Jonathan was already making his way up the stairs. “Don’t bother me if you can’t figure it out. And don’t make a mess of anything, either. If it’s too much for you, you’re better off finding a job somewhere else.”

“Don’t worry,” I replied. “I think I can handle this.”

Jonathan snorted before disappearing upstairs.

All evening, I chiseled away at the list. Even though it was a lot of tedious work, it was a refreshing change from the terrible anguish I’d been suffering. It was better than just sitting and thinking about everything I’d done wrong. I began to feel like I had purpose again. And better yet, I was down in the archives where nobody could mock me or torment me.

By the time I was finished, I had a stack of papers in my arms organized by colourful tabs and folders for their designated recipients. Jonathan was tidying up and getting ready to close the library for the night as I delivered them to the counter.

“That’s all?” He tilted his head, looking over the pile. “I thought there was more.”

“I saved space by scanning the files and rearranging them onto single documents. It’ll also save paper instead of printing out a copy for every single item.”

The librarian pursed his lips. I couldn’t tell if he was impressed or annoyed. “Alright. You’re free for the night, then. But I’ll need you in at 6 AM tomorrow to make sure these copies are picked up and to take more requests.”

“Got it!” I smiled, and my spirits elevated with a new sense of direction. Only after I’d walked out of the library did my stomach rumble, and I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I was so immersed in my sorrow, then my quest to find a job, then my work from Jonathan that I hadn’t even thought about eating.

Mrs. Foster reassured me that the café was still okay for me to visit. It was the only place in the villa where they served food prepared from the hunts, and since I wasn’t much of a hunter—and didn’t have a kitchen of my own—it would have to be where I’d find dinner.

Maybe my newfound purpose had blinded me to the reality of my situation.

Entering the café, everyone seated at tables or standing at the counter went silent. They stared at me, and immediately I felt the pressure of their judgment. My heart dropped. I was still permitted to use the café, wasn’t I?

One of the servers scuttled over to me, stopping me before I reached the counter. “You can’t be here,” she said. “You have to leave.”

“What?” I looked up from her at everyone else still gawking at me. Then I glimpsed my family seated at a table in the corner. All of them: my father, my mother, my three sisters, even Preston. Goosebumps rushed across my skin.

“You’re not allowed to eat in the café,” said the server. “We were told to send you away if you came in.”

“Why?” I felt anger boiling away inside me. “I—I need to eat!”

My mother narrowed her eyes. My father began to rise from the table as if fulfilling the security guard’s role of seeing me out. Except from the tension in his posture, I couldn’t imagine he would do it nicely.

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