Sarah Turner’s Point of view

The chilly wind sneaks under my hair, sending a cold shiver down my spine. I quickly pull up the fur-lined hood of my jacket. Where is this cold came from? We have only a handful of chilly days during winter, as the weather rarely goes below zero.

“Please, please," she pleads, her tiny lips pouting.

"Ok, Abby, one last slide," I consent, unable to say no to that cute little face. Especially with her eyes shining like her mum’s.

"Thanks, Aunt Sarah. You're the best." The end of her hair flips as she turns like a windstorm and sprints off. We came to this playground when I picked her up from preschool, and I’m surprised that it’s not empty due to the cold weather.

I watch as she tells another girl excitedly that she can stay for one more slide and climbs the ladder. This time she follows through with our deal, and we leave right after she touches down.

"You know, we promised your Mommy that we'll buy those running shoes today, and it’s getting dark," I explain to her again as we leave hand-in-hand.

"I know. The race is this weekend, right?" she asks excitedly and starts jiggling next to me. The streets are crowded with people hurrying home before sunset, and I have to hold her hand firmly to keep her close.

"Yes, it is." I smile down at her as I pull the hoodie over her hat.

I love winter. Not this kind of winter, though. Everything I love about it is missing in the city: the snow, the mountains with snow-covered forests and frozen lakes. The only downside of living in the Capital is the lack of nature.

Most people dream of living on the shores and swimming in the ocean. Not me. I long for the deep forests of mountains, the wild, unspoiled nature. However, I’m not nostalgic about things connected to these images and places. The childhood I spent wandering through those snowy forests is something I don't talk about. Something I don't think about.

Except when I do.

I let out a small sigh, chasing away the memories and looking back at Abby again. She is the six-year-old daughter of my sister, Eleanor. They are my only family, and even they are adopted.

I moved to Eleanor's family when I was fourteen and she was sixteen. We've become inseparable almost instantly and have loved each other fiercely as sisters since then.

We rent apartments near each other, and I pick up Abby from preschool three times a week. Babysitting is my favorite thing to do. It's not precisely babysitting when I spend time with the two people I love the most.

I peel off her jacket in the store and point her toward the kids running shoes.

She tries on shoe after shoe, and while she parades in front of the mirror and runs up and down only to test them out - her words -I find a pair for me.

"Are you going to a race like me?" she asks.

"Oh no, but you know I do work out a lot. Plus, I can use it when I teach Krav Maga" I don't actually need new gym shoes, but I'll need them eventually, right?

"Thank you, Aunt Sarah," she says, hugging me. "Mommy told me I should thank you every time you buy me something." Her complete honesty is just too innocent.

"You're very welcome. Nothing can stop you now from running as quick as you can.” I smile, hugging her tightly.

We buy pizza on the way to their apartment and sit in the kitchen.

"Why do you think Mommy likes mushrooms on her pizza? They are so sluggish and just eeew," she asks, and I can't suppress a burst of laughter.

"I don't know," I reply, controlling my face, trying to figure out what her mum would say. “I’m not a big fan of them, but they are good for your belly.”

“I guess so,” she shrugs her shoulder, but later I see how she steals some from her mum’s and puts them on hers. Feeling pleased that maybe I taught her something, we go on with our night routine and play card games after her bath. Eleanor arrives home just in time to read her a bedtime story.

I wait in the kitchen and reheat some pizza for her, searching online for new candle fragrances. I’m obsessed with scents and candles, and I use them at home, work, and even in the gym. I know it annoys everyone, but I still collect and gift them. They can clear unwanted smells quickly but delicately and don’t overflow my senses.

"Thanks for today again," Eleanor slumps down on a chair, exhausted. She works as an accountant for a big company, and they seem to always be behind schedule. She even works on some Saturdays to catch up.

"Of course. We had a great day. She made me laugh with her questions so many times," I smile, thinking of her cuteness.

“I know,” Len says with motherly love twinkling in her eyes. “She has very valid but also hilarious questions.”

“She’s growing up so fast,” I sigh. “Do you remember when she was asking ‘Why’ all day?

“Uhh, that was an exhausting summer,” she laughs at the memory.

Their apartment is smaller than the one I rent with two friends. I don't enjoy living alone, I offered Eleanor that we could live together, but she wanted their own space with Abby. She has never said it, but I think she hoped Abby's father would come back to their life. He moved out when their baby girl was only one; we hadn't seen him since. So, I rented the closest apartment I could find to be here whenever they needed me.

Len was always the romantic one of us. Dreaming of the perfect guy and a happily ever after. How Abby’s father left them broke her so much she’s still shielding herself from any other heartbreak. I couldn’t hate that prick more.

While me? I jumped into relationship after relationship till I realized I was not good at it. Trusting someone that much to put yourself out for them is something I’m bad at. Casual dating is more of my thing now, I enjoy life's beautiful creatures as they come.

After high school, Len studied to be an accountant and stayed home. I spent most of my time in boarding school, but on any given vacation, that was my home, and she was there.

Her parents took me in as a stray out of obligation to my former home. They did what was expected of them and provided a roof over my head, but they never truly cared for me. They are lovely people, don’t get me wrong, just not my parents.

When I met Len, she had already planned her future. She had laid out her plans to start as an accountant as soon as possible after a shorter course, work herself up the ladder, and study in college simultaneously. She knew that there was no way she could afford college another way. I was amazed at how determined she was about her future because I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.

Len helped me - more like persuaded and guided me - by laying out a plan for my high school years, focusing on finding out what I'm good at and how I could benefit from it and build a future around it.

I followed her instructions and found my passion in giving presentations and coaching others fairly early on. I was lucky to have Len as an older sister helping me through high school.

With our debate team winning competitions, I was fortunate to win a college scholarship covering the tuition fees for my HR studies. An internship at a law firm gave me enough money to pay for the remaining expenses.

I loved working there and was grateful they offered me a permanent position upon graduation.

As much as Len had planned her entire future, her pregnancy at 24 upended it. She is back on track, with or without her shitbag of an ex, but getting her college degree took longer than she planned.

***

I smooth out my skirt and look into the mirror to finalize my appearance, just like every morning. The tight knee-length skirt hugs my curves perfectly up to my waist.

I smirk, knowing how my boss Nina will frown when she sees me. She is as skinny as someone can get and explained several times how a curvy woman like me shouldn’t wear tight clothes.

Yet here I am, in a pencil skirt and skinny shirt. I like showing off my curves. They are curvy but toned from the exercise and workout I’ve been doing my whole life. I love eating, and I don’t have a problem with how the food fills my bra and pants. I have to work extra hard to keep my slender waist and flat belly. I’m not aiming to be size 8, though.

Not to mention that I show no skin whatsoever. My green shirt reaches my elbow and has a high neck because I can never forget to cover the tattoo on my neck.

My dark brown hair is straightened to perfection, and my usual natural makeup and heavy eyelashes are enough for a workday. Yet something is missing.

“Jenny,” I knock on my best friend's room.

We had a rocky start in high school as we were so different, but we became friends after clearing a few misunderstandings. Living with a very self-assured girl like Jenny throughout high school and college helped me with my issues. I spent years imbibing her confidence, building mine with it.

“Damn, girl, you look fine,” she says as I walk in. I’ll always feel like I can pull anything off with her by my side.

“Do you have earrings that would look great with this outfit? I feel it is too green, I don’t want to add more color, but it needs something.”

We go through her boxes of earrings, and I’m not even exaggerating. She has a shopping problem that she calls a future investment. I’m not judging, especially when I’m borrowing her stuff.

I finish my look with gold earrings shaped like a sun and head to work and place my high heels in my bag because I’m not willing to tiptoe through the streets on a cold winter day like this.

I am the head instructor at work, and I’m pretty proud because I worked hard to get there in the last eight years. Without family or

I’ve been presenting and teaching the new filing system to our employees in groups rotating them weekly. When they start using it alone and bombard me with questions, the crazy starts, it has been an intense few weeks, but I love it.

As usual, I start my day by replying to those emails, then picking up my laptop to go to one of our conference rooms.

“I’m joining in on your presentation today.” My boss catches up to me when I reach the elevator.

“Sure,” I reply calmly.

Pretending that I’m calm when I’m freaking out inside is something I practiced to perfect. She hasn’t done this in a long time. Has someone complained about me? Does she feel like I’m doing poorly?

Those are the questions I’m not asking out loud, and as we step into the elevator, I glance at the mirror to ensure my game face is on.

“This week’s group will be easy. They are all first-year associates and aren’t used to the previous system.” I keep up the conversation.

“Yes, I know. I want to see how they act and work,” aah, so that’s why she is here.

“Sounds great,” I keep in a sigh, not to give myself away.

Everyone is already in the room when we arrive. Some are having a silent conversation; others are getting ready for the class like they are in school. I hope this week goes smoothly.

I sit down and open my computer to start the presentation when my nose tickles, and before I can stop it, I sneeze, then sneeze again.

“Can I help you, sir?” I hear my boss and wonder who she is talking to, especially when there’s no answer.

“Sarah?”

“Yes?” I look at her with my brightest fake smile. I haven’t even started the presentation, but something is going off.

She points to the door, and I follow her directions only to find someone I’ve never expected to see again, the one and only Nate Blackwood.

“Shit,” I hear my lips murmur, and I’ve just lost all the fake pleasant attitude I’ve been keeping on my face.

I feel everyone’s gaze on me. And I mean everyone, my boss, the Head of the Interns, and the new colleagues. Not to mention this brooding werewolf in front of me with his eyes sparkling like the ocean when the sun kisses it. I haven’t seen him in ten years, but I’d recognize the Dreamboy of my childhood anywhere, anytime.

My heart is beating through my chest so hard; I fear it might be visible to others.

I suck in a ragged breath and focus on steadying myself, my posture, and my face before I stand up to approach him.

I have to avert my eyes while I walk to keep my knees from crumbling just by his gaze.

“Hi,” I greet him, glancing briefly behind him.

My eyes land on two familiar faces. Gabriel and Lissa? Maybe, I’m not sure; it has been a while.

Panic consumes me, not understanding what they might want from me. Why now? Why here? Couldn’t they show up at my apartment? Do they expect me to leave with them willingly?

My initial shock and panic turned to anger at that thought. They kicked me out. They have no right to show up at my work and demand anything.

Urggg… werewolves.