Page 24 of Bitten Shifter

I’m woman enough to admit that I’m jealous.

I will need to steer clear of loved-up couples, romcoms, and romance novels for a while. From now on, I will stick to thrillers and zombie apocalypses—stories where random men get their insides eaten. Plenty of chomping. That feels about my speed right now.

“Uh oh, we have made her uncomfortable,” Jo says playfully, snapping me back from my thoughts.

“We’re sorry,” Sandra echoes, sounding genuine.

“Oh no, no,” I groan, waving my hand as if to wave away the notion. “It’s not you—it’s me.” My hand drops, and I gesture to the pale line on my finger where my wedding rings once were. “I, uh, just left my husband. So… yeah.” I wince, the words still raw even as I say them. “It’s a bit fresh.”

And it’s a miracle I stop myself from saying more. Typically, this is when my anxiety kicks into high gear, and I start spouting random nonsense to fill the silence. My filter breaks, and before I know it, I’m spewing out verbal babble. But today, I manage to stay quiet before I go completely overboard and things spiral.

Go me.

The glint of excitement in Jo’s eyes suggests I’ve already said enough to keep her busy for a while. At least I didn’t mention Dove. That’s progress, right?

No—that was the old me. The me who apologised for everything, including breathing. The me who bent over backwards to keep everyone happy. The me who was too kind, too patient, and too scared to say no.

That version of me is gone.

Dead.

The new me? She is a badarse. She looks out for herself, does what she wants when she wants—within reason. I’m not looking to hurt anyone. But if I fancy reading all night with every light burning, I can. If I want to eat burgers for breakfast or have chocolate and ice cream for dinner, I will. Because now, the only person I have to consider is me.

And honestly? It’s refreshing.

“Oh, we’re so sorry,” Jo says, her grin betraying the sympathy in her words.

Fantastic. As Sandra did warn me Jo loves to gossip. By tomorrow, I will be Zone Two’s hottest topic—the heartbroken woman who left her husband and moved into the Ironworks. I suppress a chuckle.Small steps, Lark. At least it’s not the worst thing they could be whispering about.

“Well, we’re here if you need anything,” Sandra offers, sounding warm and sincere.

“Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“Are you off shopping?” Jo asks, curiosity unwavering. “Anything nice?”

“Just a few bits and bobs.”

“Oh, you will love it here,” Jo enthuses. “Shopping is wonderful. But you’d better hurry—only about four hours until sunset. You did read the rule book, didn’t you?”

“I did.” Well, I skimmed it.

“Good, good.” She nods, clearly pleased. I nod along with her.

Sandra gently steers Jo away, shooting me an apologetic smile. “Come on, Jo, leave her be.”

“Sandra, you know what happens around here after dark. Be careful, Lark.”

“Thanks, I will. It was lovely meeting you both.”

We exchange waves, and I skirt around the creepy wizard’s house, taking the path farthest from it while eyeing its too-perfect façade. Then I continue on towards the shopping centre.

Chapter Nine

First impressions matter.I smooth down my snazzy new suit jacket and take a steadying breath as I approach my new workplace. The Ministry’s technological centre is even more impressive up close. I follow the signs toward the entrance and pause to observe the well-dressed man ahead of me. Odd. Instead of proceeding directly through the doors, he stands in front of them, arms outstretched in an X shape, feet apart.

A scanner hums, casting a pale blue light over him. Moments later, the doors slide open, granting him entry.

Fascinating.

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