23

Word Count: 2000

One Year Later.

~Dove

Cursing under my breath, I readjust the thin bag strap digging into the hollow of my shoulder.

The familiar burn of my lungs accompanies up every slick step as I wind upward. One heaving bag slushes at my knees, the strap cutting into my fingers, while the other balances precariously on my hip.

He better be grateful for this.

Finally I reach the top landing, dumping the bags by my apartment door. After fiddling with my keys, I shoulder it open and press inside.

My roommate and best friend sits on the floor of our tiny living room, leaning over our coffee table. A sagging clump of fabric hangs over it, off cuts strewn about all over the tawny rug beneath him.

He glances up as I walk in, unceremoniously dumping the bags at my feet. His soft blue eyes sparkle, his characteristic crooked half smile playing at his mouth.

"You're home late," he points out distractedly, licking the end of a piece of string before pointing it at the eye of a needle he pinches between his fingers.

"This clients house was particularly nasty." I mutter, grimacing as I catch a whiff of myself. "The person living in it died recently and her children wanted everything taken and dumped."

The needle and string flies out of his hand as he scrambles to his feet.

"Ah!" He practically stumbles over his own lanky legs as he stands, tipping the contents of a vial of golden glitter all over the table. "What did you get?"

"Deven...we mourn the dead, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah." He props his hands on his narrow hips as he stands before me. "Show me the goods."

"By all means." I nudge one of the heaving bags with my feet. "I carried two giant bags of clothing and jewellery home for you."

He crouches down, tearing into the flimsy plastic, revealing a swath of brightly coloured clothing and tarnished jewellery that has lost its brilliance due to years of neglect.

It's one of the only benefits of cleaning houses to stay financially afloat. I enjoy bringing possessions back to my equally hard done by friend, who turns scraps into incredible creations.

Since I've been cut off from my father for over a year, I haven't had much luck making money.

"I am eternally grateful, darling Dove," Dev says distractedly, sifting through each item with remarkable precision.

"It's all vintage and musty, but there's real gold in that jewellery," I muse, setting my bag down on our tiny dining room table, which is less for eating food at, and more for storing various household items.

"Ugh, I love old people." He starts dragging the bag toward the couch. "Well, I love when they die."

I huff out a breath. "Dev..."

"Sorry. You know I'm not known for my tact."

I smirk, shaking my head. No, I suppose he's not.

Deven and I met a year ago after I moved to the city. We started at the same class learning politics but he dropped out during the first week while I persisted. We became fast friends regardless, and I'm grateful for him letting me crash at his place until we found an apartment together.

"I'll tell her snobby, painfully rich children that their sacrifice was greatly appreciated by my derelict friend," I muse, emptying my work bag onto the table.

"Performers make dirt money in this city. Your client's contributions to my worthy cause are the only reason I'm still standing," he muses, holding up a particularly grimy looking necklace up against the light.

"If they knew all this stuff was going to be recycled by the most talented person I know, they would probably demand I dump it instead." I laugh under my breath. "Those kinds of people hate joy."

I've heard rumours that my father was promoted and now owns a sprawling estate outside of the city. Him and Matthias continue to work closely together, basking in their misguided loyalty.

I hate them both. To my core.

"I'm singing at this dingy old bar on the east side of town tonight. You coming?" Dev motions to the glittering outfit he is crafting before him.

I wander into out cramped adjoining kitchen, pulling open cupboards, searching for food that does not exist here.

"I have to study," I mumble, settling on a mostly stale pack of half-eaten crackers.

Dev's pale dark eyes track me as I cross the living room and slump down onto the couch. It exhales dust in protest, but resting my tired limbs is far too satisfying to sit elsewhere.

"Come on," he wines. "It's a Friday night and I need your support."

I groan, my head falling against the fraying faux leather.

I really don't go out anymore. The four walls of my cramped bedroom do me just fine. Unfortunately, my best friend is pouting at me, needing my support.

"Okay fine, I'll go." I nudge his leg with mine. "But I'm not wearing what you tell me too."

His expression crumples. "What? That's just unfair."

While Dev acting as my personal stylist at times is fun, his inclination to dress me up extravagantly for a night at an old bar is too much for me to deal with tonight.

"I'm going to bathe. I'm disgusting." I shove a few more crackers into my mouth before I heave myself up.

"Wait." Dev scrambles up, almost toppling over the slumped bags spilling their contents onto the floor. "This came for you."

He shuffles through a stack of unopened mail before handing me an envelope. It's a pretty jade green colour, my name scrawled neatly on the front.

"It's from Eden," I murmur, recognise the unique way she writes the letter 'D'. "I haven't heard from her in over a year."

"Open it!" Dev encourages, leaning over my shoulder, his dyed cherry red hair tickling my cheek.

I shoulder him off. "Space please."

He watches as I peel the envelope open and pull out a card outlined with intricate embellishments and pretty writing.

To Dove.

You are formally invited to attend the wedding of Ciella and Eden, who will be celebrating with friends and family at Fawn Gardens in Ephemeral City on 14/07.

Bring yourself, a guest, and nothing more, and be prepared to celebrate the eternal love of two mates.

I lower my hands, stunned.

"Mates...holy shit, Ciella is her mate," I breathe.

I knew their relationship was serious, but I never imagined mates. No wonder Eden felt so strongly about staying in Varian's pack while I decided to return.

"Wow, good for them." Dev plucks the card from my hands, inspecting it closely. "They are getting married, huh?"

"I'm invited." I wrap my arms around myself, chewing on my lower lip.

There wedding is soon. She was probably contemplating whether I would want her invite or not. Neither of us have reached out to each other, uncertain of how the other one feels.

"Shit, it's in Alpha Varian's pack," Dev points out, his brows raising, disappearing beneath the hair draped down his forehead.

"No shit, that's where they live," I remind him.

I still haven't told him about my experience with Matthias and Varian. I trust him implicitly, but dredging up elements of my past still feels too difficult.

And if he knew I slept with our Alpha in the past and fooled around with Varian, he would never let me live it down.

"He's so fucking hot."

"Who?" I ask distractedly, taking the card back to inspect it closely.

"Alpha Varian." Dev smiles at the thought. "Far more my type then Matthias, although I'd fuck them both given half the opportunity."

I just stare at him. "Hmm."

If he knew what Matthias has done to me, he wouldn't speak about him so favourably. The look in our Alpha's eye when he tried to pin me down to the bed is something I cannot forget. It hides behind my eyelids, coming out when I lay down to sleep at night.

"You're going, aren't you?" Dev queries after a long moment of me staring down at the card. I quickly put it back down, taking a healthy step back.

"I don't know...there will be people in attendance that I don't want to see," I admit, rubbing my arm.

Varian and Claude will be in attendance, no doubt, and I'm not sure if I can face either of them. Seeing Varian again is especially difficult to wrap my head around. All it takes it a single thought to feel the physical presence of his mark on my leg.

It has healed now, leaving a scar that is not nearly as deep as the memory behind it. I know it could have saved my life if Matthias turned on me, but I cannot forgive Varian.

But can I forgo my sister's wedding to avoid him?

Dev eyes me carefully. "Like?"

"It doesn't matter," I say dismissively. "I haven't seen Eden in a year. She won't miss me."

"What? Of course she will!" He insists, following me into the kitchen where I start cleaning up dishes from earlier. "You're her sister. If you don't go I'll crucify you. And I'm not just saying that because I want to style you for the occasion."

"I don't know, Dev," I mumble uncertainly.

Eden deciding to stay behind with Ciella hurt me, and although I understand, she gave up on our family so easily. She's clearly given me space, and wasn't sure how to reach out until she had the perfect excuse.

I want to forgive her, and I know I mostly have. She is my sister, and I miss her terribly.

"You're going, and you're going to take me as your plus one, because I heard Ciella is rich and this will probably be the event of the year," Dev says, nudging me insistently.

He is trying to coerce me into going because he knows this is right for me. He can be playful about this, but I can see through to his reasoning.

I sigh roughly. "I need to stop telling you things."

"I haven't been to a lavish wedding before." He leans back against the counter, appearing thoughtful. "I'm familiar with Varian's pack, I'll help you out."

"I don't need help," I say carefully. "And fine, I'll go."

He claps his hands before squeezing me into a hug. "Ah, I love guilt tripping. What an incredible invention."

As much as I don't want to see Varian and Claude again, I can't miss my sister's wedding. These powerful people aren't going to take anything more from me.

"Go back to fussing over your outfit for tonight. I'm bored of you." I push away from me playfully, swerving around his lanky form.

"See you after your bath, and don't forget we're going out tonight!" He reminds me brightly, rubbing his hands together manically before returning to the coffee table so he can continue working on his outfit.

"Don't walk into the bathroom again," I warn. "You became well acquainted enough with my naked form after that party last year."

Unfortunately our careless landlord hasn't fixed our broken locks. Sharing a bathroom with Deven, who owns more hair products than food in the cupboards is hard enough as it is, but I almost stopped living with him after he accidentally strolled in and caught a glimpse of me.

Strangely enough, our friendship has only grown stronger since.

"And it is quite the naked form, by the way," he calls out as I stalk down the short hallway and into the bathroom.

"Bye!" I sing out.

"You mean see you in a bit!" He exclaims loudly, the end of his sentence cut off as I close the door behind me.

I guess I'm going out tonight.

💛••💛

As always, you can read this book 16 chapters ahead on Inkitt and 10 chapters ahead on Radish!

Your support means a lot to me!

~Midika 🐈‍⬛💜