Page 5 of The Forsaken Heir
Rasp gave me a sly grin. “Nothing.”
“It better be nothing,” I said, leveling a finger at him.
“You’re being paranoid, bro,” Rasp said.
I wasn’t sure I was. The last thing I needed was for my friends to start stepping in shit and making matters worse.
2
BRIELLE
“Double chocolate chip frappuccino, please,” I said to the barista.
“Sure, what size?” she asked.
“The biggest one you have. Do you have a five-gallon bucket? I’ll take that.”
The barista laughed. “I’ll do my best. Name for the order?”
“Brielle, but use Elle,” I said with a smile as I took the receipt from her.
Standing off to the side to wait, I allowed myself to enjoy the bitter smell of the roasting beans and brewing coffee. Regardless of the time of day, the tangy aroma always reminded me of the morning. Iwishit was still morning, then I wouldn’t have had such a shitty, frustrating day at work so far. My job at the sewing store wasn’t usually pretty low on the stress meter, but today had been the exception to the rule.
“Excuse me,” a voice said from beside me.
Turning, I found a man roughly my own age, around twenty-six or seven, smiling at me.
I frowned. “Uh, yes?”
His gaze slid from my face down my body, then back to meet my eyes again.
“I don’t usually do this, but you are really gorgeous,” he said.
My body was one of my defining features, and I knew it. My shoulders were broad for a woman, but the generous curves of the rest of my body softened that feature. I had big boobs, a round butt, and I was muscular in a healthy way. Although I was still a littleplump around the middle, it sat atop some hard-earned muscle. I wore a size sixteen dress, but I was comfortable in my skin, and I think that confidence helped. My wolf shifter genes did lend a lot to my muscle mass, but I also loved running and swimming, which did even more to keep me healthy and as fit as I could be. Honestly, I cared more about health and fitness than I did some generalized fantasy of what a woman should look like.
Over the years, I’d grown accustomed to random men and women complimenting my curves as well as my green eyes and chestnut hair. A woman who’d hit on me once had called the combostriking. Typically, I let people down easy, but I’d had a rough day.
“Thanks. It’s the steroids, actually. You should see all the acne on my back.” I did my best to keep a straight face as I winked at him.
He blinked in confusion and surprise. “Oh, uh, I’m not sure that…uh?—”
“Elle! Order up!”
“Oh, that’s me,” I said. “Gotta go.”
Leaving the man to his embarrassment, I hurried to grab my order. I nodded a thanks to the barista again as I tucked a straw into the cup and left the coffee shop. Outside, the cool air kissed my cheeks, and the misty rain stuck to my skin. The temperature was pleasantly chilly, like a perfect fall day should be. Taking a draw of my drink through the straw, I sighed in contentment as the sweet, semi-frozen liquid hit my taste buds.
“Yeah, that hits the spot.”
Again, my thoughts returned to work. It had been such a pain-in-the-ass day. Some lady had come in demanding a certain fabric, something with a paisley print on it, because she was making Sunday dresses for her grandkids. A simple enough task, but after showing her four different bolts of fabric, she’d thrown a hissy fit because none of them were the right color. She’d spent the next hour badmouthing the store and doing her level best to make my entire day miserable. When she’d finally left, I felt as though I’d run a marathon.
As I walked back to the sewing shop, I tried my best to look on the bright side. I was doing this because I wanted to, not because Ihadto. I’d taken the job to stay busy and learn from Lorainne, the shop owner. Ever since I was a little girl, I’d wanted to learn to sew and make pretty clothes. Lorraine gave me free lessons on my off days and whenever the shop wasn’t busy. She paid me minimum wage, but the lessons more than made up for the money. Besides, I didn’t need to be paid. My family gave me a generous stipend to stay hidden and away.
I was the disgrace of the Laurent family. A black spot on the name of the most powerful shifter family. When I was younger, depression and sadness had always accompanied any thoughts about my exile, but after living the life of an ostracized eldest child, I’d grown to accept it. Hell, plenty of people would give their left arm if they didn’t have to worry about money and got to live in a fancy apartment that someone else paid for. The bitter reality of your family not wanting you could be forgotten. After all this time, I’d come to believe that the bonds of friendship were stronger than those of family—even if Delphine was my only friend.
“Welcome back, sweetie,” Lorraine called as I stepped back into the shop.
“Hey. Was it busy while I was gone?”
