Chapter 1 My Alpha's Curse: Part Two:

After Six Months

Anna, have you finished packing the package, sweetheart? As usual, Shelly's words floated into my ears with her thick British accent, "That conceited bloke might be here anytime soon." "Almost done, Shelly babe!" From across the large kitchen, where over 10 people were working hard at their tasks right now, I cried out. To be completely honest, I did not mind at all because the entire kitchen smelt amazing. The smell of freshly cooked pastries was coasting in the air and wafted into my nostrils. A tiny laugh escaped my lips as I saw my wolf roll her eyes, sinking back in my skull and letting me know how much she disliked Shelly's accent. My wolf had a variety of moods, and today was one of those that has always proven to be difficult to deal with. It amazed me how grumpy she could get at times and act like those horrible girls in high school. But since I had her, life has been so much simpler that I was content to endure her mood swings as she did mine. Even yet, the circumstances surrounding it frightened me and served as a continual reminder of my loss, from which I would never fully heal. How I wish we could undo the past and make the future right! The injuries were still recent. I still experienced the same sense of emptiness as when my life's final purpose was stolen. Although I would always be grieving, I had to face the agony that would stab me repeatedly, sting like a knife, and cause me to bleed. I laughed, severing the connection between my thoughts. "All right, give up! What issue do you have with her accent, I'm not sure. Before I finally wrapped everything up in a box, my hands worked to arrange the final piece of the various cakes in their proper places, being cautious not to sabotage Shelly's final artwork on each one. I carefully and gently placed the cake box inside the bag I selected from the pile of bright red bags after placing our bakery's sticker—Butternut Bakehouse—on top of the seal. "I don't really mind her; it's just that before her, that British accent didn't sound so awful."— It was what I took to be her hurried statement to me amid her quiet complaints. "We really haven't had a fair share of hearing different forms of the British accent." "Well, we have, and you were the one who wasn't paying attention, but I'm always alert and have all of my ears in. I am aware that Shelly has the worst form of accent ever. This time, she was a little more focused on winning this argument—which, upon closer inspection, turned out not to be an argument at all. She did, however, have a point. Shelly gave the impression that English was a completely separate language, which was awful. But none of us could deny that we really admired her, despite my mild prejudice and my wolf Elena's strong distaste for her accent. "But would you mind going into more detail about how having your ears fully aids me in baking? Not to mention that you seemed to detest the packaging process the most." This appeared to bother her, and I sensed her becoming embarrassed. The light beige fur around her cheeks appeared almost crimson to me as she struggled with her shame at that particular moment. "That was mean!" "Well...it's not only you who has the right to be mean," I chuckled as I made my way to Shelly, confident that my wolf would provide me peace of mind for the next several hours at the very least. "Here, it is done." I let out a sigh of relief as I gave Shelly the package. "Oh, thank god it is done!" With a collective applaud, she handed the package to Gloria, who would handle the remaining tasks. "I'm so sorry for the extra work today, sweetie," When Shelly had finished packing the cookies into a box, she turned to face me. We received a tonne of orders today, and as you can imagine, I can't pass up this opportunity to pay off my debt and the bank loan. I apologise for the additional work strain; I realise it must have been too much for you and everyone else.My father owns this bakery, and I just don't want it to disappear." Her eyes wrinkled slightly from the sides as her voice faltered a little, but she still gave me a quick smile. Shelly's father owned this bakery. Since she was a young child, Shelly has been managing things alone following his death. She eventually found life more difficult in this small town, and now she has massive loans to repay with even more interest, her business completely consumed, and she is deeply in debt. However, it was difficult for her to actually turn it into a successful business and keep it smooth when the price of the goods nearly doubled every month and rose higher and higher every day. Although this was one of the area's oldest bakeries, the large factories that were able to meet demand more quickly thanks to their sophisticated machinery and advanced technologies easily eclipsed the exquisite handcrafted baked goods produced by the bakery, even though none of the factory's creations could truly match the recipes Shelly's father gave her. I hold this woman in the highest regard. Despite everything that she had to endure, she refused to let the world steal the joy from her life, she never gave up, and she never allowed her generosity to fade. She was the kindest person I have ever met, and she helped me when I had nowhere to go and no one to support me. I will always be appreciative of everything she did for me, even though she was going through difficult times of her own. "Hey, it's okay, Shelly," "We all know how important this bakery is to you, and trust me, I'm more than happy to be able to help you through it," I said as I held her hands. Furthermore, it's not at all too much work—how could anyone possibly have complaints when we have such a caring owner? You are crazy for thinking that we are having a crisis over here just because the workload is a bit more than usual." "Gosh, you are such a sweetheart," She smiled and pulled me in a hug. "Thanks for the compliment, now listen to me very well my little oldie," I gave her a pat on the back and tried to console her, knowing that she was genuinely having a difficult time and that any small consolation would be greatly appreciated. "Stop worrying about anything. This isn't the end for the bakery, and we can overcome it." "I am not an oldie," "I am still very young and beautiful," she said, pinching my cheek and causing a tiny hiss to escape my throat. Oh, I realise now that I must have completely forgotten to mention Shelly's incurable illness—the belief that she will always be young. "Yeah yeah," I said, rolling my eyes, and she let out a gasp of surprise. "So you are denying that I am beautiful?!" "No," I couldn't stop my chuckle longer, "I am just trying to tell you that you are not young anymore my dear Shelly— Sixty-two isn't such a young age." "Anna...you," She began with her menacing voice, appearing irritated to be reminded of the fact that she was genuinely old. "I'm heading off to work," Supressing my snicker I headed to the other side of the kitchen. "Wait, come back right here I say!" "You called her old again?" Eliot asked with a throaty chuckle as he saw me sauntering back to my work spot. "Yeah, it's always the same amount of fun you know." "Anna, come right here!" Shelly's voice rang, she stood there, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at me which caused a few low snickers from the workers to echo throughout the room. Nothing could be more hilarious than seeing a late middle aged woman battling with all of her dedication just to make everyone believe she was still youthful. "Shelly, let me remind you I still have many more orders to pack and a few of them are actually for those arrogant customers you have mentioned just an hour ago," I laughed and walked to my work spot, sparing her only one glance before I began with packaging the rest of the parcels, sliding them to the counter next to mine--to Penelope, "So you chose whether you want to continue the argument or let me work in peace so that it gets done faster and save you from the yelling of those sweet-sweet customers." She didn't say anything for a full minute, which gave me ample time to predict her next move, and you know what happened? That was indeed a piece of excellent news for me. "That's sensible of you, young woman. But don't think you are spared, you'll have to face my wrath later." My lips dropped open in a chuckle I could not control. The definition of Shelly's wrath was—tasting her experimental baked goods first. To put it mildly, these baked goods were never so delicious that they could be viewed as a punishment, which was another reason I enjoyed getting in her face: getting to sample delicious baked goods wasn't all that bad, was it? "I love facing your wrath, Shelly!" And at last, I returned my focus to my work. Shelly's reaction and the other employees' whispers in the kitchen were muted. I slowly but completely lost myself in the realm within my thoughts, where I've put the unfinished puzzle-like pieces of my existence, hidden away and out of reach of discovery. So many nice things happening in life, however why I found myself attempting to investigate the memories of those nightmares again where all I could find was pain? Just pain…