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I feel a rock hit the back of my neck, a small pebble perhaps and let out a wince before glancing around with an annoyed glare. Finding no culprit, I continued my journey until another flew with more force, making my hand slap up to cover the pain.

I take my headphones out and glare around. "Psssst!" Another rock flies towards me but I dodge it, my gaze following its path to a small shrub that tussles.

My phone begins to ring and I lift it up to my ear, not bothering to check the caller id. "Hello?" I ask, moving closer to the bush.

"Is the coast clear?"

"Henry?" I ask, louder and the bush moves again, making me purse my lips and hang up the phone. "Henry is that seriously you crouching in a freaking shrub?" I ask the bush and to any pedestrians passing by I'd look like a lunatic talking to some branches with leaves.

Henry's head pops up out of the bush, leaves and twigs stuck in his curly hair as his eyes dart to check the surroundings.

"What the hell?" I demand, moving closer to him. "You let me get thrown completely under the bus and then what? Decide to throw rocks at me as an apology?" I ask and he, with some struggle might I add, removes himself from the greenery.

"I have been staking out here all morning, I had to fend for myself—fight off a damn squirrel, look!" He says, thrusting his arm tattered with scratches and a nasty looking bite mark in my face.

"And why would you do that?" I ask.

"You're grounded aren't you? No more talking to Henry ban for the whole weekend. Our parents are trying to split us up so I'm being sneaky about it," he replies

"Yeah. No thanks to you," I retort and he winces.

"I know, I was going to go out and tell my parents you'd be with me, work with the whole cover thing we had going on... but Battlestar Ecliptica released early! I couldn't believe it and the fandom was going crazy and I just completely forgot and yeah, so I'm sorry about that," he says and I contemplate his apology, weighing up the excuse and the price I've had to pay.

"I guess I can forgive you," I mutter and his crestfallen face beams with a smile as he pulls me into his side, giving me a squeeze as we fall in step.

"I knew you wouldn't stay mad at me forever," he jokes and I roll my eyes. "What happened anyway?" He asks, slightly more serious and I let out a deep sigh.

"I'm in pretty big shit," I respond, thinking back to facing my parents last night.

"That bad?" He asks and I nod. "I take it they found out about Micah being there then," he says and I nod again, my conformation making his face twist in pity for me.

"They took his contact off my phone," I start with a sigh. "And then they just took the whole thing altogether and grounded me for a week. No going anywhere but work and school so the movies tonight is a no go," I say and he kicks the pebbles beneath our feet, watching them tumble away as he always does when we walk.

"They know trying to keep you from him might not be the wisest thing right?" He asks and I look to him with wide eyes.

"Since when did you make a turn around, Mr 'Nevereverspeaktothewolfman'?" I ask but he doesn't laugh at the joke, his face serious.

"I talked with my parents about it, when they demanded to know the truth about our scheme. They told me about some of the things they've seen happen when families—or anyone try to stop the bond," he says and my mirth slowly dissipates, too.

"Things like what?" I ask, just to clarify further because in truth, I've already heard horror stories myself, rumours and whispers here and there.

"Well their most pressing concern was that you'd be taken and never allowed to see them again, or any of us," he says, looking into my eyes with the last part, hurt gathering being his orbs. "Everything else was more suited to the old times and I tried explaining to them that it would take a lot for the Alpha family to pass that kind of verdict. But it isn't impossible, Micah's status... it puts all of the laws surrounding human-were mates in a pretty grey area."

I look to the ground, breaking our eye contact. "I know," I mummer, kicking pebbles of my own. "But I just don't... look, I know that you still don't trust him and maybe this wolfie magic is effecting me but he doesn't seem like the type to do that. I could be wrong, and god I hope I'm not, but he seems nice," I say with a shrug and his serious face returns to its more normal, perhaps less bubbly self.

"So the date went well then?" He asks and I let out a snort of laughter, giving him a look.

"I mean I wouldn't call it a date per say," I mumble.

"He probably thought it was one," he answers, not missing a beat.

"Beside the point. Yeah, we had fun, we just talked, you know... settled a few things and got to know each other I guess," I say and he raises a brow as we turn to walk down along the beach front, my hands moving to take ahold of the rope that directs people to use sidewalks.

"You sound unsure of yourself," he says.

"I'm not unsure... just scoping things out. Call it a healthy dose of scepticism," I say and he laughs.

"If you say so. Did you end up getting the information you needed for the article?" He asks and I nod.

"Everything and then some," I answer, making his smile widen.

"Look at you, Sherlock Holmes already. You know that paper is going to be a sell out now that you're on the team," he comments and I blush with embarrassment like I always do when he hypes me up.

"It already is a sell out, Jesminda's gossip column is the only reason people actually pick it up and no doubt she is going to squeeze me dry for information on Micah," I say, running a hand down my face with a sigh, exhausted already.

"She's a tough opponent, I'll give you that. Honestly out of all the people I have battled in debate she has got to be the harshest person ever," he says and I think about her, poised and ready with her pen in hand like it was a weapon she'd use to strike.

"What about the other two? Gia and Finn, what do you know about them?" I ask and he shrugs.

"I know that they're both wolves. I think they are in the newspaper team because it gives them authority to use the room at lunch and smoke pot," he says and thinking back to Finn's chilled, laid back vibe in conjunction with Gia's rebellious energy—it doesn't surprise me that much.

"Not fans of the pack rules then?" I ask and he shrugs again. Most wolves follow the orders of the school and pack religiously, so much so that it can become annoying to a degree. But some don't, and I guess Finn and Gia fit into that category.

"Apparently not, I have one class with them both but they just do their own thing in the back of the room. I highly doubt its work but the teacher tends to just leave them be," he explains and I hum, interested in his own Sherlock skills.

"You have one class with Micah don't you?" I ask and I notice the way his body tenses slightly at mention of him.

"Yeah, advanced mathematics," he says and it doesn't shock me that he'd be in the top class.

"What's he like?" I ask and Henry nods his head to the side in thought.

"Pretty much what you'd expect. He's nearly sitting on an average of ninety nine percent, the teacher loves him, girls swoon over him and he and his jock friends are the centre of constant attention," he says and the part about girls swooning over him makes my gut clench for a brief second. "He's admittedly been a little different towards me ever since... you know," he says and we turn down the side street that will take us to the alley where the staff entrance for the fish and chip shop is.

"How so?" I ask, my curiosity spiked.

"Well I mean he is seemingly nervous around me, but only slightly—still has to keep up the mr big stuff act I suppose. He waves to me, not that I wave back, but I think he is conscious of the fact that whatever he does I could tell you. That, and I have an inkling his possessive little wolf side is a tad jealous of our closeness," he says and I scrunch my nose up at the last part.

"Closeness?" I ask, fake gagging at the implication and he laughs.

"I know right, every time I see a slither of envy in his eyes it makes me sick," he says, and we both shake the thoughts from our heads. Henry is like a brother to me just as I am a sister to him, anything of that nature is so repulsive to the both of us it isn't even a consideration.

"Well, he has nothing to fear on that front now. Guys at school who used to smile or wave in the halls won't even look at me much less anything else," I say and he chuckles as we enter the alley to find Al's rusty old truck nowhere in sight, a black Indian motorcycle parked in its usual place.

"Who's is that?" Henry asks me, as confused as I am.

I furrow my brows as I inspect it, trying to peer through the fly screen door next to a pile of burnt out cigarette butts. "I don't know," I start, before looking at him sternly. "But in the event Al has decided to take up motorbike riding, I suggest you scram. One look at you and best bet both our families will know about us breaking grounding rules," I say seriously and he looks hesitant to leave me with the foreign vehicle and I don't exactly doubt him. If a mafia gang member we're to be in there looting the place right now, that's the kind of ride I'd expect them to have.

"Are you sure?" He asks and I nod.

"Just go, I'm sure it'll be nothing," I say and he gives me a reassuring smile.

"Don't die,' he says before turning on his heels and walking from the alley, leaving me with nerves forming in my stomach.

Okay, maybe I should have asked Henry to stay.

I slowly open the back door, so careful not to make a single noise from the hinges and when I enter the small alcove aligned with pantry items, I find that it wouldn't matter if I clambered it open with all my might. The shops stereo plays hip hop loudly, louder than usual and it muffles my movements.

I don't hesitate as I curl my fingers around a wooden rolling pin, the object not a knife, I note after taking too many steps away to change my decision. But at least it's not thin air either.

A hear a low whistling sound from the kitchen, meeting the beat of the song playing and for a moment I let my guard down, moving towards the kitchen ready to meet Al until a flash of a muscled bicep covered in a sleeve of tattoos passes by the entryway, making me press myself firmly against the wall.

Shit shit shit shit shit. So definitely not Al and his familiar flabby arms that I wish would appear more than bloody ever. Just muscles and tats. Pure muscle and a sleeve of tats.

Whoever that dude is in there is probably almost definitely looting the store, a robber with a gun ready to take all of our fish and money and everything. Oh god. I feel myself begin to hyperventilate and I try to think happy thoughts in order to calm down.

From what I can see, they stand to the side of the island bench, in clear view of the back exit which throws trying to run out unnoticed out the window. I have never in my life had to deal with something like this, not in all of my shifts working at Sals. The crime rate is supposed to be low, mafia gangs aren't even supposed to exist anymore.

I hear footsteps shuffle again and I tighten my grip on the wooden rolling pin.

I move quickly, raising the weapon over my head before crashing it over the young man, bringing it back and hitting him flush against the arm.

"Ow! What the-" I don't let the intruder continue as I bring the rolling pin crashing down onto their body once more, hitting them and eliciting another groan. "Mercy! Mercy! Please lady chill, what do you want?" He yells and I hold the pin threateningly over my head, looking at him crouched in surrender.

"Give me back all the money you took!" I demand and as I do his dark hazel eyes cloud with confusion, his thick brows furrowing, the golden brown skin of his forehead creasing as he does so.

His expression seems to soften into more of a curious but wary look as he takes in the fact I'm clearly not an old lady. "Look, if I made a deal with you I promise we can sort something out just please, lower your weapon," he says and I look at him with shock, only gripping it harder.

"Who do you think you are? Robbing small little shops and acting oblivious? If you don't give me back whatever you took I'm calling pack police," I declare, vehemence in my tone and his confusion comes back full force.

"Woah, woah, woah," he says, moving to get up before flinching-stopping in his tracks as I give him a look of warning. "I'm not stealing anything, I'm running this place. Who the hell are you?" He asks and his identity hits me then, making me lower the pin fully and change my expression from complete anger to utter disarray.

"I work here," I say and realisation hits him too.

"Athena?" He asks and I really want to just sprint out the door, hand Al my letter of resignation in via email and beer ever leave my room again for the embarrassment this entire ordeal has given me. But instead, I just nod.

"I'm Gabe, Al's nephew," he clarifies and I wince, nodding even more.

"Right that... that makes sense. I just saw the bike and the tattoos and I thought..." I ramble, not really knowing where to go without offending him.

The corner of his mouth raises in a curious smirk. "Thought what?" He presses, folding his arms across his chest making his prominent muscles tense. If it weren't for the smile it'd look threatening, only further feeding into my assumption.

"I thought maybe you were trying to rob the store," I rush out. "And so I attacked you."

He looks down at his body, the body I just battered with a rolling pin and I want the earth to open up beneath me and just suck me away into a different realm. I don't even care if said realm has human eating evil elves, I'd take anything over this.

"That you did," he comments, letting out a loose laugh. "I wasn't aware that Al hired a security detail."

He jokes and so I laugh, but it comes out as an awkward sound and I nod. "I'm really sorry, I-," I let out a sigh, "can I get you some ice?" I ask, looking at his head which makes even more dread encase my face. What have I done.

On pure instinct, I move forward and he leans back, anticipating another attack, making my hand stop mid air-still reaching out to the slight gash on his forehead. "You're bleeding," I comment, guilt and shame coating my words.

He reaches his hand up and pulls it back, looking at the bright red liquid with a laugh. "Well, you have a way with introductions, that's for sure."

I turn to my side, rummaging through the pantry before pulling out a first aid kit stashed away. "I'm honestly so so sorry. Let me," I comment, pulling out a cloth and dousing it with rubbing alcohol.

He sits down on top of the freezer, giving into my demand like he's afraid I might try hit him again if he doesn't. Which is great, the guy I'm going to have to work with for who knows how long in a small cramped kitchen thinks I'm a crazy psycho that wants to batter him with kitchen utensils.

I walk up to him, and give him a look. "This might sting a little," I say cautiously and he nervously laughs in response.

"It's not laced with poison is it?" He asks and I shake my head.

"No," I reply with a reassuring smile.

I dab the cloth onto the cut, pleased to find that the bleeding made it look way worse than it actually was. "Just a small little graze," I comment and he laughs my attempt to downplay attacking him not going over his head.

"I've had worse," he says in response and part of me realises that as he doesn't flinch at all, not a single flash of pain crossing his face at the sting of alcohol touching his flesh.

"I really am sorry, if you want to tell Al about this I totally get it. I should probably be fired," I ramble, sincerity in my words as I continue dabbing at his cut.

"Tell Uncle Al? That I was beaten to a pulp by an eighteen year old girl nearly half my size?" He asks with disbelief. "I'd rather you just finish the job and end my life right now."

I look at him with furrowed brows, surpassing the smile that edges on my lips. "You won't tell him?" I ask, pausing from peeling back the band-aid to look at him intently.

"I'm sure there are some gritty cleaning jobs you can cover for me to make up for it," he says and I smile.

"I'd take cleaning over customer service any day," I say, putting the band aid on his face.

"Well I didn't realise that was the ultimatum," he comments, a displeased look coming over his face.

"That's really too bad," I say with a slight smile on my face.

"I tell you what," he says and I lean back, allowing him to jump down onto the floor effortlessly. "I'll forget all about it, clean slate here on in if we agree to share the shitty jobs. Though admittedly, if you think I am some sort of gangster from a slight glimpse then the locals might not appreciate my welcoming smile greeting them. Especially not with all the bruises you're bound to give me popping up,"

"You might be onto something there," I joke before grabbing a working apron and putting it on. "Have you already made a start on the fish?" I ask and he chuckles, my attempt at a diversion not slipping under his radar. I would dance around like a chicken if it meant that introduction wiping clear from his memory.

He just shakes his head. "Yeah, uh I'm not sure if I have done it right though. Uncle Al was in a bit of a hurry to leave and basically just told me that you'd show me the ropes so I guess that makes you more of my manager," he says as we move into the kitchen and one look at the poorly battered fish and I have to work really hard to conceal my grimace.

"Well, I mean you are on the right track I suppose..." I say, picking up a piece of fish that looks like it was beat up wayyyy worse than Gabe.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He asks and I look at him warily.

"Do you have any experience with like, restaurants?" I ask, "out of curiosity." I add, careful to not offend.

"I helped my mom out in the kitchen sometimes," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "Draining pasta and whatnot," he mumbles and my vision of what these next few months will be like turns pretty grim.

"So you've never worked in hospitality?" I ask and he shakes his head.

"I was a sort of mechanic on the weekend, I figured it couldn't be much different," he answers with a shrug and I give him an incredulous look.

"They couldn't be more different," I clarify, what is he going to do? Fry fish on a burning hot engine? I'm really going to need to have a few words with Al when he gets back.

"Well Al told me you would be a great teacher," he says with a slight smirk and my shoulders slump before I look at the clock. One hour left until we open up to the public.

"I might be a good teacher but I'm no magician," I mumble and he clutches his heart, feigning pain.

"Ouch, Thea, you wound me," he says and I shake my head at his antics.

"Okay I guess we just have to start this off by you watching me make some and then you can have a turn. Though I am afraid you might have to take orders for the first couple nights until you can actually cook," I reply and he nods his head.

"Fair enough."

"I hope you like eating fish because something tells me we are about to make a lot of it," I say and he laughs, moving to stand beside me on the island counter as I set up a station to show him how the whole thing works.

-

"You know," Gabe starts through a mouthful of food, the blue apron on his chest covered completely with flour. "It might just be a better idea if you do the cooking from here on in."

He finishes eating his third piece of fish that he'd microwaved to eat moments ago. We'd closed up the store with little to no trouble throughout the shift. Sure, some people didn't get exactly what they ordered and sure, maybe it took a little longer than usual for their food to come out, but we got there in the end.

Gabe may not seem friendly and approachable from a distance but as it turns out, he has a hidden skill when it comes to talking with people. And he's not half bad with a calculator either which helps.

"What about that deal?" I ask and he shrugs, pulling a bowl of hot chips into his hand.

"If I get to eat all the leftovers I'll happily stay out front forever," he laughs and I join him, my face hurting slightly from the amount I'd smiled that night. "But it's probably for the best for the time being, I don't want to give anyone food poisoning and you know what your doing."

"Fair enough," I say, cleaning the last of the dishwasher out and turning to pick up a cloth.

"Don't worry about that," he says, jumping down from the counter and jogging over to snatch up the towel himself. "I'll close up from here on in, you can head home if you want-get some rest before tomorrows shift," he offers and I shake my head.

"No, I don't mind staying, truly. It's the least I can do after attacking you and my ride doesn't get here until later anyway." Micah may have been onto something in when he noted that whilst crime is minimal-it's not gone and besides, my parents were lenient in letting me walk here alone. Grounded life has many limits.

"I can always give you a ride back when we close, you don't need to call someone all the way out here," he says, sincere and I shake my head.

"I live pretty close and I didn't exactly see two helmets on that thing," I point out with a laugh, beginning to scrub a large pot in the deep sink.

"I'm sure if I crashed without a helmet it wouldn't make much of a difference," he says, gesturing to the cuts on his face and I laugh, unable to keep it together. "Shouldn't you have a licence by now anyway?"

Now I just feel personally attacked. "I do, but it is honestly just downright dangerous. I don't really know how I passed, I don't think the poor guy I traumatised did either, but I ticked all the boxes. I just don't have a car," I clarify, handing him the large pot to which he begins drying.

"Ah," he says, putting the pot away before taking another dish from the rack. "Well if you ever start looking let me know. I've got some contacts in the mechanic world that may be able to hook you up with a sweet ride," he offered and I smiled.

"I'll keep that in mind. Though walking really isn't half as bad as everyone makes it out to be."

Gabe makes a look of disgust. "That sounds like something a person who has to walk everywhere says."

I have half a mind to launch the cloth, soaked with dirty dishwater at his head but after all of my violent outbursts tonight-I decide otherwise. Instead, I just laugh and continue cleaning the remains of the dishes.

He closes up the rest of the shop, clearly trained by Al in at least something before returning to find me and the kitchen spotless, the night coming to a complete close.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" He asks and I nod, throwing a towel into a basket.

"Yep, I'm set to start near opening but if you want me to come in earlier to help show you the ropes a bit better I don't mind," I offer and his eyes light up at the suggestion.

"That'd actually be awesome, I planned on just coming in to try figure it out alone so help would be great," he replies with a smile and I nod, picking up my bag.

"Cool, well I'll see you in the morning then."

He says goodbye, pulling out a mop from a cupboard and I make the long trek home, thinking the entire way back about how I'm going to try and teach an utterly terrible cook how to make it at least near chef level. And every thought that pops into my head, for some reason, makes me smile.

authors note

The return of the Khalesi a/n is upon us. I don't even know what to write here, I have authors note writers block and I seriously think it is one of the main things that is stopping me from posting more chapters hahaha. 

It could also be the crushing weight of insecurity and vulnerability I feel each time I press that little publish button so pleaseeeee if you guys are enjoying just leave a star or a comment and let me know so that I am not sat in horrid anticipation wondering. 

LOVE U ALL & honestly, don't hesitate to reach out to me on here or insta (higher likelihood of a response there) for literally anything. Are you a writer that wants a beta reader and some edits? Have you got a jaw-dropping, fist clenching book recommendations to hand on over? HIT ME UP.

I've made so many great friends through this forum and I want to keep that energy UP!  

Khalesi <333

ps: music is down to my led obsession