CHAPTER 29: JUST ANOTHER DAY

Sera walked into the gym hours before the first light of day would filter through the tall windows. That was the worst part of winter in Country N... the sun didn’t rise until almost 9:00 most mornings. It made it all that much harder to want to get out of bed when the sky was still that dark.

Not like she had really been in bed in the first place.

But she did have a very nice bearskin run being dried in the garage now.

The usual quiet hum of the machines greeted her: treadmills running at low speed, the occasional clank of weights on the floor, and the distant sounds of the early morning crowd starting to gather. The gym was already awake, but for Sera, it was still early.

She didn’t mind it. The solitude of the morning shift suited her well. She didn’t need to engage with anyone unless she had to. People came in, swiped their cards, and left. She barely registered them. Her eyes stayed glued to the small laptop in front of her as she checked in the members who wandered through. It was quiet work, the kind she had become accustomed to, the kind that didn’t require much thought.

But then, as always, something small but familiar caught her attention—a coffee and muffin sitting neatly on the corner of her desk. She looked up to find Lachlan standing a few steps away, hands stuffed in his pockets, his usual teasing smile on his face.

"For you," he said, his voice light, almost amused. "For working on your day off."

Sera didn’t say anything at first, just reached for the coffee, her fingers curling around the warm cup. She didn’t even need to look at him to know that the gesture was something he did often—something that had become routine in a way that was both comforting and foreign.

The muffin, still warm, sat beside it. Her stomach growled quietly, but Sera ignored it. She wasn’t hungry—not for food, at least. But the creature inside her was. Its presence, once quiet, now demanded to be fed, and Sera couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm as she sipped the coffee.

She wasn’t the type to thank anyone for a small favor like this, so instead, she picked up the muffin and bit into it. The creature took it in, too, humming in approval as if it hadn’t caused her to puke out the last cup of coffee and a muffin she had eaten.

Thoughts not quite her own drifted through her mind... The coffee and muffin were nourishment from a horde member to his Alpha. Of course, it had to be accepted. There was no other alternative. She could never turn away anything given by a horde member.

Lachlan lingered for a moment longer than usual, but when she didn’t look up or offer more than a passing glance, he left, heading toward the gym floor to begin his own workout. Sera didn’t watch him go. She didn’t need to. She could feel his presence fading, but it didn’t bother her. It was just another day, another small piece of routine. She would take what she could from it and move on.

Going back to her tasks, Sera nodded her head as the gym members flowed in and out throughout the morning, none of them stopping long enough to say anything more than a quick "hello" or "good morning."

Her mind, however, was elsewhere, wandering as she scanned membership cards and folded towels. It was the same old routine, but something about today felt different. She could feel the creature stirring inside her, an undercurrent of restlessness that had been growing stronger. It wasn’t just the smell of the coffee or the warm muffin—it was more than that. It was like it was demanding that she look at her surroundings with new eyes, as if she were beginning to mark everything in her path. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but it was there, quiet and insistent.

Sera glanced around the gym, her gaze catching on the soft lighting, the muted colors of the walls, and the way the space was laid out. It was... hers. The creature was growing more comfortable here, in this space, and it was beginning to claim it as its own. And Sera didn’t fight it.

When the midday lull came, Sera gathered her things, knowing that she had the rest of the day to roam. As she clocked out and stepped into the cool air outside, the weight of her thoughts settled over her. This was her life now. The gym, the routine, the creature—everything was part of the same equation. She was becoming something else, something that was beginning to thrive. And there was no going back.

The afternoon air was crisp, the sky overcast with a soft layer of clouds that promised rain. Sera moved through the aisles of the store with purpose, her hands wrapped around the handle of the shopping basket. She passed through familiar sections: canned goods, non-perishables, and cleaning supplies. The routine of it calmed her—the methodical way she filled her basket with things she knew she needed. But as she turned the corner toward the home goods aisle, something caught her eye.

The scented candles. She stopped. Something inside her shifted. She was drawn to the candles the way she had never been before, her fingers trailing along the rows of brightly colored jars. There were so many scents, but one—cinnamon—was all she could think about. It wasn’t a rational thought. It was instinctual.

She reached for a cinnamon-scented candle, lifting it to her nose and inhaling deeply. A quiet hum of satisfaction buzzed in her chest, a feeling of something being fulfilled. The creature inside her stirred, a presence at the edges of her mind. It wanted this. It needed this. The scent was like a marker, a claim on the space around her. It was as if the very act of buying the candle was its way of establishing territory—her territory.

She picked up more candles—vanilla, cinnamon again, a hint of clove. She didn’t know why she was so fixated on them, but she couldn’t stop. It was almost like the creature was demanding these things, needing them to make their space feel more secure.

Later, back at her cabin, Sera set the candles around the room, methodically placing them in strategic spots—near the windows, by the door, on the table. She lit each one, watching the small flames flicker to life. The soft glow filled the space, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hanging in the air like a warm, protective blanket.

The creature inside her seemed to relax. Its presence, always there, always watching, settled into the background as the calming scents of the candles wrapped around them both. For a moment, Sera could almost imagine herself as something more than what she had become—almost human, almost whole. But deep down, she knew she was no longer fully her.

She sat on the couch, watching the flames, the warmth from the candles soaking into the room. This was her space now. The creature’s presence wasn’t an unwelcome guest anymore; it was a part of her. She had accepted it, and in return, it had begun to accept her. There was no longer any fight.

Sera exhaled slowly, the quiet satisfaction of the moment settling over her. She wasn’t sure where this path would lead, but for now, she was content. It was enough. And as the creature inside her purred softly in approval, she let herself relax, just a little.