Page 5 of The Forsaken Heir

If it weren’t for Delphine’s kindness, I probably would have died of sadness those first couple years.

I hadn’t understood how my parents could just send me away like that.

They’d shoved me into the shadows and acted like I didn’t exist, simply because I hadn’t lived up to their expectations.

Dad hadn’t even spoken to me when I left.

Not one word. All the years of him bouncing me on his knee, reading me stories, calling me his little princess had been thrown away because I was an embarrassment.

They’d put me aside in favor of my younger brother Bastien.

If a human family had done the same, they’d have been ostracized and shamed for the cruelty of it.

I was over it, but the old memories still burned bright sometimes.

“Shit , ” I hissed as the stack of flattened boxes slid out of my hands onto the floor in the storeroom.

“Rough day?”

I glanced up and found Mary-Ann kneeling to help me pick up the boxes. She was a teenager who worked here part-time after school.

“Oh, hey,” I mumbled. “Clumsy, I guess. Are you already out of school?” I asked, glancing around for a clock.

“Just got here,” Mary-Ann said. “My final-period teacher let us go five minutes early since it’s Friday. I was able to get off campus before the rush.”

“That’s nice,” I said as I lifted the boxes.

Mary-Ann placed the final few on the top of the stack. “Do you need any help?”

“Nope. I got it,” I said, using my butt to push open the door to the alley.

Friday. Payday. I hadn’t even realized it, until Mary-Ann said it.

I donated most of the money I made here to good causes like the neighborhood animal shelter, but each payday, I splurged a bit.

A bakery down the street from my apartment sold the best chocolate cherry cheesecake, and I purchased one of their small sizes every two weeks.

It was one of the few indulgences I allowed myself.

It was a reward for working on myself mentally, physically, and emotionally.

I’d never been a skinny girl, and when my family sent me into an all-expenses-paid exile, I’d allowed my depression to get the better of me and turned to food as an escape.

Being a latent shifter, my metabolism was higher than most humans, but it wasn’t enough to surpass the sheer amount of junk food I’d eaten in an attempt to comfort myself.

Around seventeen, I’d decided to change things, so Delphine and I had started going to the gym.

I lifted weights, jogged, and swam. I was still plus-sized, but I was in a much better place emotionally than I had been.

I no longer used food as a coping mechanism, and while some people would call me fat, I was stronger than ever, powerful even.

Who gave a shit what people thought as long as I was comfortable?

I loved my body. A little cheesecake here and there wouldn’t change that.

“Are you coming back in?”

I turned to see Mary-Ann frowning at me.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Just a little lost in thought,” I said, tossing the boxes into the dumpster and heading back in.

When the sewing classes were over and Lorraine was getting ready to close for the evening, she pulled out a stack of envelopes.

“Paychecks,” she called, like an old housewife on the prairie calling the farmhands in for lunch.

“Thanks, Lorraine,” I said, taking my envelope from her.

She patted my hand. “You have a good weekend, sweetie.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Maybe find a hot guy to have some fun with.”

“Lorraine!” I gasped, choking out a laugh.

The old woman shrugged. “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I don’t know things. If you don’t want to have a boy friend , maybe you can find a boy toy .”

“Oh my god,” I moaned, rolling my eyes. “On that note, I’m leaving.”

“See you next week, love,” Lorraine called as I departed.

I zipped up my hoodie and tucked the check into my pocket, then headed for my neighborhood.

Up beyond the city, I could see some of the mountains, and the leaves were starting to turn.

Bright flashes of crimson, yellow, and orange marked the hills like splashes of pain smeared across a green canvas.

The sights of fall always filled me with a deep sense of peace.

Other seasonal changes happened slowly, each easing into the other and arriving almost by surprise.

Fall, however, announced itself with a spectacular grandeur that I thought surpassed spring.

It reminded me of the way my life had changed quickly when my family gave up on me.

Three blocks before my home, I turned down a side street toward the bakery. When I stepped inside, the aroma of baking bread, sugar, and cinnamon assaulted my nose in the most delicious way.

It was busy, but at the moment no one was at the counter, and I hurried up to place my order.

“Hi, there,” the cashier said. She grinned and gave me a knowing look. “Chocolate cherry cheesecake, right?”

Heat crept into my cheeks, but I smiled and raised my hands in mock surrender. “Yup. That’s me. I’m your girl.”

“We’ve got you. Hang on a sec.” She went to the large, refrigerated display cabinet.

“I’ll take the nine inch,” I said. “Not the twelve inch. I’m not looking to give myself a heart attack tonight.”

“Got it. The small ones are in the back. Give me a few seconds.”

While I waited, I glanced around. Most of the customers were sitting at the tables, sipping tea or drinking coffee and nibbling on croissants or muffins.

A man in the back corner caught my eye. He was eyeing me unabashedly.

For a second, I felt like a steak on a plate.

He sat with a few other guys, all of them with the slicked-back hair and tailored suits that screamed finance bros—guys who probably only talked about stocks and mergers and got hard thinking about trading crypto. Ugh.

“Here you go,” the cashier said as she returned with a small box. “One nine-inch chocolate cherry cheesecake.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

She shrugged and waved me off. “It’s my job. No big.”

“Well, either way, thank you. You guys work really hard, and you’re always nice when I come in here.”

I could tell she was a little embarrassed by my praise, but it was true. People in customer service worked their asses off and were rarely thanked. And really, it was the least a person could do when someone else was offering a service.

She rang me up, and I paid, but before she handed me my receipt, she pointed to the kitchen again.

“The team is testing out a new flavor of layer cake today. Salted caramel. Would you like me to set aside a slice for you? On the house. You could pick it up tomorrow and be part of our test group? Let us know whether or not you liked it?”

“Oh, that sounds amazing. Thank you. I’d love to be a guinea pig.”

“I got you. If I’m not up front, ask for Michelle when you come in.”

“Thank you,” I said, putting a ten-dollar bill into the tip jar—double what I usually put in. “See you guys soon.”

With my cake box tucked into a plastic bag, I turned to leave, but for the second time that day, I found myself face to face with a man who was obviously going to hit on me.

Unlike the last guy, this one was less subtle.

Rather than looking me in the eyes, he was staring at the swell of my breasts.

It was Mr. Slick Hair. He’d separated from the rest of his finance bros.

“Eyes up here, buddy,” I said. “Can I help you?”

He lifted his gaze to mine, a half-lidded attempt at bedroom eyes.

“Hey there,” he cooed. “I couldn’t help but notice you across the room, and I thought I’d come say hi.”

In the back corner, his buddies had put down their copies of whatever newspapers they’d been reading and were watching with interest. Had they taken bets? Probably.

“Well, hi,” I said. “I really need to be going.”

“Hang on, babe.” He put a hand on my arm, and I didn’t like him being in my personal space.

I glared down at the offending hand. “Yes?” I asked, a bit of venom in my voice now.

“Can I get your number? Maybe take you out this weekend for some drinks or something? My treat?”

Slipping my arm away from his hand, I smiled back sweetly. “Sorry, but no thanks.”

“Hang on.” He blocked my path to the door, the smile on his face even brighter now. “You don’t have to be nervous. I won’t bite.”

I imagined shifting into a wolf and snapping my jaws around his wrist, and the delightful expression of horror and fear that would flash in his eyes when I did. How I would have loved to do that. Instead, I had to use my mouth and brain to get rid of the guy.

“I said, no thanks. And I meant it.” I moved around him. “Now, please leave me alone.”

He frowned at me as I headed for the door, and I could hear the distant snort of laughter from his friends.

“Yeah, no big deal. What do I want with a chunky-ass bitch like you anyway?” He sneered.

I winked at him. “True. Your dick probably isn’t chunky enough to match, anyway. I prefer real men.”

The door swung shut behind me, cutting off his buddies’ chortling laughter. Asshole. Sparing one last glance back through the window, I saw the guy heading back to his table, his face red.

Good. Served him right.

My apartment was a couple streets down, and when I entered, the warmth of the foyer melted away the coolness of the day outside.

Our place was on the top floor. The three bedroom, two bath cost a pretty penny, especially since it was downtown, but again, my family paid the lease, so I didn’t have to worry about that.

“Welcome home,” Delphine said.

She was in the kitchen, loading dishes into the dishwasher. Her bright, platinum-blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and a dish rag hung from her shoulder.

“Hey. Want dessert first or dinner?” I asked, holding the bag up.

Delphine rolled her eyes and tossed the rag down. “You and that damn cheesecake. Don’t you get tired of the same flavor?”