Prey Drive

Chapter 9: The Stall

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15.

That's how many times Clayton's knuckles have brushed against mine, it also is the number of times I've thought about diving into the bushes and away from the lovebirds. The worst part is he doesn't even seem to notice. I am walking in between them for some garden awful reason. I can tell they are having a silent conversation above my head. Great, they are that type of couple.

The town's street market comes into view. The stalls sell all sorts of adorable homemade items. A new shipment of supplies arrived recently. A train ran a few miles north of here. Goods ordered from around the globe arrived monthly.  I have never been aboard a train or ship. Never even been out of this territory. That was how most prairie shifters lived their lives, born within a 50-mile radius died within a 50-mile radius. I sometimes thought about what it must be like elsewhere but didn't really have a good picture. Airplanes and even the internet were things of the past.

Shifters don't view technology the way the purebloods did. I mean we have plumbing and solar-powered electricity. But the need for digital immersion isn't there, the earth is still repairing from the Before's pollution. The animals in us didn't see a need to use any more fossil fuel than necessary, protect the earth and she'll protect you.

However, the days my parents did power up our radio, I would listen for hours wondering what the world outside our bubble was like. How other shifters lived. I've read books and studied maps, but I know that pales in comparison to seeing the real thing. I knew I never would, so I didn't do any good to dwell on it. The wolf pack did all of our territories outsourcing and cross territory negotiations. We farmed, they did everything else.

We pass Bethany and Sam Withers' stall, selling the usual homemade candles and blankets. They harvest their own wool from the sheep they raise. I named some of the lambs born a couple of years ago, Peppercorn and Basil are still adorable

Bethany sends me a concerned look when I only shoot her a nervous smile. I can talk to them after Clayton and Blair are far far away from me. I've never been a very jealous person but I would appreciate Blair no longer being in the picture. It was like every nerve in my body was telling me to find a way to physically rip their relationship apart. 

Oh, Gardens. I'm a homewrecker!

Clayton makes a gruff noise next to me and takes a step closer to my side. I walk faster. It doesn't faze the long-legged models next to me, they take it in stride, literally.

I can see the green sign outside my aunt's booth. We painted sunflowers on it last year. Well she painted sunflowers, I painted yellow blobs, she later fixed. The scent of baked goods has me feeling relaxed. A few more steps and I could be safety tucked behind Myra's booth. They would go on their way, and I would bottle these feelings up and push them deep deep down. Everyone wins!

"Auntie Myra!" I see her restocking the display case, oh thank goodness!

"Quinn?" She turns around. I shoot her a relieved smile she does not reciprocate it. Her brows are furrowed. 

"I thought I told you-"

"Yep! You did tell me to be here an hour ago! I am sorry I'm late, lost track of time. Won't happen again." I grab the apron hanging on the back wall, and hastily tie it over my body. Clayton is giving me a concerned look, I flash him an apologetic grin. What can I do? My aunt needs me working... at least I hope that's what he thinks. "Nice to meet you Blair! Bye Clayton!" Neither of them leave.