Page 8 of Bullied Pretend Mate
“Maeve!”
It’s Phina again, and this time, she’s not alone.
“Valerie?” I practically gasp, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. It takes me a second longer to recognize Valerie now that her hair is bright green, and she’s gained a little weight. It looks good on her.
Without meaning to, I take a step back from them, the warning bells ringing merrily in my head.
“It’s me,” Valerie says, smiling warmly in a way that’s hard to reconcile with the hard, chilly girl I remember from high school. “How are you? What are you doing here?”
“I—” I clear my throat, glancing around nervously, still not understanding how they’re okay with the three of us being seen together like this. “My grandmother died.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Phina says. “We’re so sorry for your loss.”
“Don’t be,” I say too quickly, which makes Phina’s eyes widen and Valerie laugh.
“So it’s like that,” Valerie says, glancing up at the legal offices. “Well, hopefully you at least got something good.”
“I did not,” I say flatly, hefting my purse back up on my shoulder, taking another step back. “Well, good to see you both.”
It’s a lie. Seeing them makes me feel like the whole of Silverville is staring at us. It’s throwing me headfirst into that night again, the burning air in my lungs, the blue flames that engulfed Tara like they were going to carry her home.
“Wait, Maeve—” Phina steps forward, reaching out for me. “We’re having an event at the pack hall tomorrow. You should come.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that—”
“Please,” she says, eyes shining. “We have a lot to talk about, Maeve.”
I tell her I’ll think about it, and as I’m walking away, I can’t stop thinking about the look on her face. There’s something different about Phina. Something that has definitely changed—matured—since the last time we saw each other.
And the way she speaks gives me the sense that the town might not react quite the way I think to my return.
Chapter 4 - Felix
When Xeran said it was mandatory for us to come to the pack hall tonight, I wanted to groan and roll my eyes.
Today was a long one, working at the firehouse for hours, finishing up the outside, then meeting and talking to all the new recruits. Showing them the ropes, cleaning up the engine bay, and talking to Soren about repairs on the only fire truck we have.
So when Xeran called us in for our daily huddle, all of us standing around—the new guys with a little pep in their step, the rest of us just a little worn down from the constant stream of new faces—and told us we’d all be expected to make an appearance, I’d only barely managed to hold in my groan.
Not only was today tedious, but every other day has beenboring. It got to the point that I was almost hoping for aregularfire—just someone leaving on a burner, or a fuse going back—to spice things up. Which makes me an asshole, but it was just a thought I kept to myself. Would it really be so bad to brush up on our firefighting skills, as long as nobody got hurt in the process?
Xeran leveled a look at me, specifying that I needed to comewell-dressedto the banquet, which made everyone else laugh.
I’m already not looking forward to all the dressing up and mingling I’m going to have to do this summer when my parents cart me to a thousand weddings. So, no, I did not want to shove myself into a suit and come to the charity gala.
The pack hall is in the center of town, just off Town Hall, and has a large meeting room that’s kind of shaped like where someone might give a press conference. Every week, Xeran sits at the front of it, fielding questions and providing the pack members with information about his projects.
It used to be the pack hall was something of a throne room for our old supreme, Declan, Xeran’s uncle and the alpha before him. But now it’s a lot more of a communal space, somewhere people can go when they need assistance, support.
Over the past few months, our group at the firehouse has split our time, sometimes working on the firehouse, sometimes the pack hall, and sometimes other buildings in town, many of which only barely seemed to hold on. It’s surprising that any of them withstood the daemon fire—normally, they leave nothing but ash behind.
Now, someone offers me a glass of champagne, and I take it, downing it in one quick gulp. Live music plays from the corner of the space. I wonder how much damn money is flowing through here. I only donated fifty bucks.
After months of repairing the pack hall and getting it ready for meetings and guests again, the last thing I want to do is spend my free time here. Free time that could be spent catching up on my shows or gaming. Or doing both of those things at the same time.
Even though the fires have died down, I find my days continually occupied. When the whole of Silverville is repaired, I’m afraid Xeran is just going to make us go through again and remodel. He doesn’t understand the art of lounging, relaxing.
Now, the pack hall buzzes with people in suits and gowns, and if I’m being honest, Phina has actually done a pretty good job with the large room at the center of the place. When they rebuilt, they decided to vault the ceiling and put in skylights, which makes the entire place seem a lot brighter and a lot fancier than it really is.
