Page 25 of Stalked By the Alphas

24

HAZEL

The fog of my heat finally starts to lift, leaving me exhausted and aching. I blink groggily, trying to orient myself. Sunlight streams through the gap under the curtains. How long have I been out of it? A quick glance at the phone tells me three days. Wincing as I think of the shop, even though I do this every season, this time I didn’t have time to prepare. It was just left with no sign up or anything.

I groan as I push myself up, muscles protesting the movement. My throat is parched, and my stomach growls insistently. I need food and water desperately. But shower first. My hair is matted from sweat and endless tossing and turning.

After a quick shower, I feel marginally more human. Wrapping myself in my dressing gown, I make my way downstairs. The house feels eerily quiet after days lost in the throes of my heat .

In the kitchen, I gulp down water greedily before I open the freezer and pull out a frozen pizza. I don’t give a fuck it’s only six in the morning. I’m famished. I place it in the oven and set the timer, while I make a cup of tea. I will eat and then get dressed and head to the shop. I have to make sure I’m open on time today.

I gulp when I remember the masked, porcelain doll, but I shove it aside to deal with when I get there. My mind feels remarkably clear this morning, and it’s a welcome relief after feeling so lost lately.

As the pizza cooks, filling the kitchen with its savoury aroma, I pull the sheets out of the dryer, which I’m glad I remembered at some point, to swap them over from the washing machine and carry them upstairs. I dump them on the bed and set about stripping off the nest. Taking those sheets downstairs, I set them on to wash and then the timer dings. I focus on retrieving my pizza and slicing it up, my mouth watering. The first bite is heaven, my body craving the calories after days of neglect.

Finishing my meal, I tidy up and feel a thousand times better. I head upstairs to get dressed. The sun streams through the windows when I open the curtains. It’s already a hot day, even though it’s still early. I start folding the laundry, and once it’s all put away tidily, I get dressed, deciding on a yellow summer dress.

A momentary chill runs down my spine as I slip on my sandals despite the warm morning. The unsettling feeling that’s been plaguing me recently resurfaces. I shake it off, determined to focus on getting back to normal.

I gather my things and head out, locking the door behind me. The street is quiet as I walk towards my bookshop. Suddenly, I get the sensation of being watched. I glance over my shoulder, my gaze drawn towards the alleyway. My heart stops as I see a figure in the shadows, barely visible from here. But then he is gone.

“It’s nothing,” I mutter. “Just shadows.”

Feeling disheartened that my feeling of anxiety is returning, I approach the shop. My heart races as I remember the figurine. I take a deep breath before unlocking the door, steeling myself. I gulp when I place my bag on the counter and look down. The masked magician is there, still smashed to bits.

“That’s a good sign, though, right? It means I didn’t imagine it.”

Trying to convince myself of this is less easy than saying it out loud, but I clear my throat and set about clearing it up, taking a savage sort of delight in dumping it in the bin.

Then I busy myself opening up, trying to ignore the nagging doubt in the back of my mind. As I flip the sign to ‘Open’, movement across the street catches my eye. For a split second, I swear I see a flash of a white mask, but when I look again, it’s just Mr Hatley walking his dog.

“Fuck,” I grunt and turn around, walking away and shaking my head. I check the clock to see if it is too early to ring the doctor. But I must do that today to make an appointment to see if I’m losing my mind.

I jump a country mile when the door opens, and I spin, hands at the ready to do... what exactly?

“Hi, Hazel,” Carter Richmond says, closing the door behind him. “Been a while.”

Shit! Shit! Fuck!

“Carter,” I croak. “What are you doing here?”

“Is that all you have to say?” he asks, keeping his distance, those enigmatic blue eyes boring into mine. Even from here, I can smell cedarwood and old books, his unique alpha scent that brings back a flood of memories I’ve tried so desperately to push away. Panic hits my guts, and I stumble back.

“I—I...”

He smiles sadly and takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “I know it’s been a long time, Hazel. I’m sorry to show up unannounced like this.”

I grip the edge of the counter, trying to steady myself. My heart is racing, memories of our shared past flooding back. The four of us - Carter, Noah, Zach, and me - inseparable as children, but then there was the pact and all the doubts that raised about me.

I shake my head, forcing those thoughts away. “What are you doing here, Carter?” I manage to ask again, my voice steadier this time.

“Just checking in on an old friend,” he says.

“How-how did you know I was here? ”

“I’ve always known, Hazel. You ran out on us. I wanted to know why.”

“It’s taken you all this time?” I choke.

He chuckles. “Life gets in the way, but I’m here now.”

Life gets in the way . I scan his neck for a mating bite, but I can’t see one. He is wearing an expensive-looking blue suit and white shirt and looks harder than when I left. I want to ask him what he’s been up to, but the words get stuck in my throat.

Carter takes another step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. I feel like a deer caught in headlights, unable to look away.

“I’ve missed you, Hazel,” he says softly.

A shiver runs through me at his words.

He nods. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you.”

My heart pounds faster. “I... I can’t do this right now, Carter. Things are complicated right now.”

“When are they not?” he asks lightly, with a smile. “I’m not here to make your life more difficult, Hazel. I just want to catch up.”

“Catch up?”

Carter’s eyes soften slightly as he takes another step closer. “Yes, catch up. It’s been years, Hazel. I want to know how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to.” He pauses, his gaze sweeping over me. “You look good. The bookshop suits you.”

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to step back as he approaches. His familiar scent envelops me, stirring up memories I’ve tried so hard to bury. “I... thank you,” I manage. “The shop keeps me busy.”

“I’m sure it does,” Carter says with a small smile. “Listen, I know this is unexpected. How about we grab a coffee?”

Part of me wants to refuse, to tell him to leave and never come back. But another part, a part I thought I’d silenced long ago, aches to reconnect with him. To understand why he’s here after all this time.

“I... I can’t leave the shop,” I say weakly.

Carter nods, understanding in his eyes. “I’ll get us some to go?”

I hesitate, torn between curiosity and caution. “I don’t know, Carter...”

“Please, Hazel,” he says softly. “For old times’ sake.”

Something in his tone, a hint of vulnerability perhaps, makes my resolve waver. “Okay. Mrs Pemberton should be open soon.”

He nods, “I’ll be right back.”

He leaves, and I collapse on the counter, wondering what the fuck is going on. But then I remember the doctor’s appointment I need to make, so I snatch up my phone and see it’s time to ring. I get through straight away, wondering how that happened, and I speak to the receptionist.

“I’d like to make an appointment, please, for as soon as possible about some anxiety attacks I’ve been having.”

I cringe as I hear the door open behind me.

She taps into her computer. “Eleven thirty. ”

“Eleven thirty. Yes, thank you.”

She hangs up, and with a shaking hand, I put my phone back on the counter and turn around to see Carter standing there with two hot teas. “That was quick,” I mutter.

“I might’ve taken the liberty before I came in here,” he says with that familiar smile.

I take it from him. “Oh, did you now? Bold assumption that I still drink tea.”

“Old habits die hard, Haze,” he jokes. “And I find it amusing that you think the bold assumption was the choice of beverage and not me assuming you’d talk to me.”

I giggle, unable to help myself. It’s like falling back into a rhythm that we had for so many years. “Well, thanks. I could do with it.” Taking a sip, I move around the back of the counter and nod at the stool on the other side for him to take a seat. He perches on it and takes a gulp of the scorching hot tea.

“I’ll never know how you do that,” I murmur automatically.

“What?” he asks.

“Gulp back hot drinks like that.”

Carter smirks, a hint of that boyish charm I remember peeking through. “Years of practice.”

I nod, taking a more careful sip of my tea. A strange silence falls between us. There’s so much unsaid, so many years of distance.

“This shop is great. I can see why you fell in love with it and the area,” he murmurs, almost awkwardly .

“Thanks. It was good to get away. Start over.” This is dangerous territory.

Carter nods, his eyes roaming over the shelves, ignoring the elephant in the room. “It suits you.”

“What about you?” I ask. “What have you been up to all these years?”

Carter’s eyes darken slightly. “Oh, this and that. I mostly focused on my law career. Made partner last year at Richmond & Associates.”

“Wow, congratulations,” I say, genuinely impressed. “That’s amazing, Carter.”

He shrugs. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Thinking about a change of career. Need any help around here? Looks like the Lake District is the place to go to make a new life for oneself.”

The edge to his tone gives me pause. “Carter,” I say, shaking my head.

“Why did you leave, Hazel?” he asks, suddenly, even though I should’ve expected it.

“You know why. With my parents’ death and seeing them everywhere I turned, all the memories... I had to go. It was stifling!” The part truth comes out in a rush and harsher than I wanted.

His eyes harden, and he looks like he wants to argue, but then, to my shock, he lets it go and nods. “Of course,” he murmurs. “It must’ve been hard.”

My breath is coming in fast pants as we edge around the subject of the pact, but his expression softens, and I nod. “It was.”

He drops his gaze back to his tea and takes another gulp before rising from the stool. He moves purposefully around the counter, and I back up, panic rearing in my throat. But all he does is drop the empty to-go cup in the bin on top of the smashed doll.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t go unnoticed. He frowns and leans down to stare at it, moving the cardboard cup out of the way. “A masked doll,” he murmurs.

“Fucking bastard fucking thing!” I spit out. “Deserved what he got.”

Carter’s eyes widen, and he straightens up cautiously. “Oh? Offend you, did it?”

“By existing,” I growl.

“I see things definitely don’t change. Still scared shitless of masks.” His tone is light, but with an undercurrent I can’t quite place.

“They should all rot in hell.”

“Okay, Hazel Bishop, masked magician killer. It has a nice ring to it.” He smirks, which sets me slightly more at ease.

“Sorry. I just really hate those fucking things.”

“Why was it in the shop then?” he asks.

I stare into his eyes, wishing I had an answer for him. “I—I don’t know. Maybe a customer left it by accident.” I drop my gaze and turn away, busying myself with tidying a pile of already neat books on the counter.

“And you smashed it to bits.”

“Well, tough. I’ll pay for a new one.”

His scent wafts closer, and I freeze when he moves closer to me. “It’s okay to be scared, Hazel.”

“I’m not. ”

“Your hands are trembling.”

“With rage.”

“Sure,” he says. “Because your temper is so legendary.”

Hissing, I turn to him and come face-to-face with his chest. He grips my hands lightly, and I nearly keel over from the contact with him. It’s more potent than I remember. Deeper, somehow, even though we haven’t seen each other in five years.

“I’m here, Hazel,” he murmurs, letting go of one of my hands and curling my hair back behind my ear. “I know you. I know your deepest fears. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

I stiffen at Carter’s touch, my breath catching in my throat. His familiar scent envelops me, stirring up memories and feelings I’ve tried so hard to bury. For a moment, I’m transported back to our shared past - the four of us inseparable, the doubts that tore us apart.

“Carter,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Please...”

His blue eyes bore into mine, filled with an intensity that makes my heart race. “What are you so afraid of, Hazel? What’s really going on?”

I shake my head, unable to form the words. How can I explain the terror that’s been haunting me? The imagined stalker, the masked magicians, the feeling of losing my grip on reality?

“Nothing,” I manage to choke out. “Everything’s fine.”

Carter’s eyes narrow slightly, clearly not believing me. His hand cups my cheek gently. “You were always a terrible liar, Haze.”

I step back, breaking contact with him. “It’s been a long time, Carter. Things change. People change.”

He nods slowly. “They do. But some things remain the same.” His gaze sweeps over me, making me shiver, and I wonder for a brief, wild moment if he’s right.