Page 19

The stakes couldn't be higher. This job was it—my only shot at independence. No ID, no money, no car, no references from my previous life. Most places wouldn't even look at me twice, but Diana had offered me something impossible: a chance to start over completely. If I failed here, what then? I couldn't exactly go back to my old life. Xavier thought I was dead, and I intended to keep it that way.

The bathroom mirror offered no comfort as I stared at my reflection. Same curves, same wild dark hair that never quite behaved, same brown eyes that had always seemed too big for my face. But something was different now. Something harder in the set of my jaw, something haunted in the shadows under my eyes.

"You clawed your way out of a grave," I told my reflection firmly. "You can handle an office job."

My reflection didn't look convinced. Neither was I, honestly. My entire life had been mapped out from birth—marry Xavier, bear his children, strengthen the pack alliance. I'd never chosen anything for myself. Never even considered what I might want to do with my life beyond what was expected of me. Mother had made it clear from childhood that I had no choices, no options. Xavier was my destiny, my purpose.

Now I had to figure out who Juniper Grey was supposed to be, when I'd never been allowed to discover who Hazel really was.

The dress fit perfectly, which was both convenient and unsettling. The hem hit just above my knees—professional enough for an office, but practical enough for walking.

Walking. According to the note Diana had taped to my door this morning, the office was a thirty-five minute walk from the cottage. No mention of other transportation options, which meant this was my commute whether I liked it or not.

"Look at it as free exercise," I muttered, strapping on the only pair of shoes I now owned—sensible black flats that somehow didn't pinch.

The morning air carried the cool damp of spring, but the sky promised warmth later. I locked the cottage door, testing it twice before starting down the winding path toward town. Diana's directions were exact, each landmark noted with almost painful precision.

Fifteen minutes in, my thighs started burning. The dress might have been perfectly tailored, but no one had accounted for the reality of a brisk walk in fitted fabric. I shifted my stride, trying to minimize the growing discomfort.

The street sloped gently upward, buildings growing taller and more densely packed. More people filled the sidewalks now. Early morning commuters clutching coffee cups, joggers in expensive athletic wear, parents herding children toward school. Normal people living normal lives.

I wondered how many of them were like me. Wearing carefully constructed masks, hiding secrets behind morning routines. How many were actually human?

A shadow flickered at the edge of my vision, drawing my gaze to one of the massive oaks lining Main Street. The morning sun stretched bright across the sidewalk, but somehow the darkness beneath the tree's canopy seemed deeper, more absolute than it should have been. A man stood within that pocket of shadow, so still he might have been carved from the darkness itself.

Dark jeans and a thin black tee did nothing to hide the raw power in his frame—all lean muscle and contained strength, like a predator at rest. His face was all sharp angles and dangerous beauty, carved from midnight and secrets. Dark hair, cut short on the sides but longer on top, seemed to absorb the morning light rather than reflect it.

The crowd of morning commuters flowed around him without seeming to notice, like water parting around a stone. Like their eyes simply slid past him, unwilling or unable to acknowledge his presence.

But I saw him. And then he turned, and his eyes met mine across the morning crowd.

Time did something strange, stretching like honey dripping from a spoon. His eyes were an impossible shade of gold, almost luminescent in the shadows. Something shifted in them whenthey met mine, a flash of recognition that made no sense because I'd never seen him before.

My skin felt too tight, electricity dancing along my nerves. Every instinct screamed danger, but not in the way Xavier had at the end. This was different. This was...

Seriously? Are we doing this right now? You barely survived the last pretty boy with supernatural vibes.

I jerked my gaze away, forcing my feet to keep moving. Heat crept up my neck, and I wasn't sure if it was embarrassment, attraction, or pure fury at myself for noticing anyone that way. When I dared to look back, the man was gone, though the shadows beneath the oak seemed darker somehow.

Get it together. You've got a job to save. No time for golden-eyed distractions.

The matchmaking agency occupied an old Victorian house set slightly back from Main Street, its wraparound porch dotted with rocking chairs and hanging ferns. Pale yellow paint glowed in the morning light, and black shutters framed tall windows with wavy antique glass. The brass nameplate beside the front steps read "Eternal Matches" in flowing script.

I stood at the base of the steps, trying to steady my breathing. This job had to work. It was the difference between building a new life and ending up with nothing. No money, no home, no identity. Just a dead girl walking with nowhere to go.

"You're Juniper Grey now," I reminded myself in a whisper. "You can do this."

The door chimed as I pushed it open, stepping into the cool foyer.

"Oh good, you're here!" The woman behind the mahogany desk looked up from her computer, her impressive cleavage on display in a crimson top that perfectly matched her lipstick. Those leather pants should have been illegal this early in the morning. Her green eyes sparkled as she stood, and somethingabout her smile made my pulse quicken—not from nerves, but from something else entirely. Something that made me want to step closer.

"I'm Thea,” she gushed. “Diana mentioned you'd be starting today. Glad we didn't scare you off yesterday."

There was something almost magnetic about her presence, the way she moved with fluid confidence. Like she knew exactly the effect she had on people and enjoyed every second of it.

"Juniper Grey," I responded, forcing myself to meet her gaze steadily. "Ready for my first official day."

"Perfect!" She grinned and I found myself wanting to smile back, to please her somehow. "Let me show you to your office. Though I assume you've had a chance to look through those files?" Her voice carried an undertone that made even simple questions feel like invitations.