Varen
The little bell above the boutique door chimed as I stepped inside, and immediately, the air shifted. Silk, perfume, and too-bright chandeliers surrounded me, every corner of the room screaming femininity. A few clerks at the front desk froze, their gazes landing on me like startled prey catching sight of a predator.
"Alpha Varen…" one of them stammered, bowing so quickly her pen slipped from her hand and clattered on the polished marble floor. "We… we didn't expect you here."
I walked deeper into the boutique, ignoring the wide eyes that followed me. My mind wasn't here for them. It was on her. Always her. Josie.
I scanned the racks, hand brushing against the silks and satins. Nothing looked worthy enough. Nothing screamed her. My mate deserved more than fabric; she deserved art. My heart pounded, restless, hungry to find something that would set her eyes alight, something that would remind her she belonged with me.
