Freeing Heather

FREEING HEATHER

Breath of Air // Fiery Blooms

Kallysten

Heather enjoys a quiet life in a haven for shifters… until she meets her fated mate.

She’s been living in Sanctuary for years, behind walls that protect shifters like her from bigoted humans who would see them jailed—or worse. Bigoted humans like her own parents, who chased her away when she first shifted.

Wesley just arrived in Sanctuary.

He doesn’t want to be here.

His clan had to run from the authorities, leaving everything behind—including his daughter. He doesn’t know if she’s safe, or if she was taken when he left town. His calls have gone unanswered. There’s only one thing to do: go back for her.

But when his alpha forbids his clan to help him, who can he count on? Heather is his mate, but they’ve only just met. He can’t ask her to risk her life for the child he had with another woman… can he?

Copyright © 2019 Kallysten

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

The right of Kallysten to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First Published 2019

All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Edited by Kristin W.

This book is part of the Breath of Air Collection.

CONTENTS

Freeing Heather

Offer

Breath of Air Collection // Fiery Blooms Series

Excerpt

Other stories

About the author

FREEING HEATHER

CHAPTER ONE

Are you sure your power isn’t to make the perfect coffee cup for everyone who walks in here?

Heather smiled as she wished her customer a good day, though the joke was getting old after hearing it so many times. She glanced at Janine at the ordering station. The shop manager had heard the remark, and already had a star-shaped sticker in hand.

Do you want to do the honors? she asked with a grin, her head tilting toward the large calendar on the back wall.

It showed the entire year at a glance, and every other week or so numbers were written on the line next to a day: how many pounds of coffee beans Heather had roasted that particular week, and which kinds. More numerous yet were the sticker stars. They were only halfway through the year, but last time Heather had counted she’d found twenty-eight stickers. Janine had bet her she’d get more than fifty ‘this must be your power’ remarks this year, and they were right on track for that.

Nah, I’ll let you do it. I’ve got a double latte to prepare.

Through the window, she’d spotted a regular, Rose, heading for the door. Some people varied their order sometimes when they read the specials sign near the counter, trusting Heather to make them a new blend or add-on. Not Rose, though. Six times a week, she stuck to her routine, jogging around the park on the other side of the street then grabbing a latte to drink as she walked home. Heather sometimes caught herself wishing she had her motivation. Regularly lifting hundred-pound bags of raw coffee beans was the only exercise she practiced, along with being on her feet all day. It kept her arms and legs toned up, but there was no denying the bit of soft roundness in her middle. The pastries near the ordering station, which a baker delivered fresh every day, definitely had something to do with that.

She timed the latte just right, and had it in her rising hand when Rose walked in. The young woman’s eyes sparkled in amusement as she approached the counter.

Hello, ladies, she said, nodding her head at Janine before approaching Heather. Quiet morning?

She took the tall, ceramic cup Heather was handing her and brought it to her lips for a small sip. A hum of pleasure immediately followed.

Quiet so far, Heather confirmed, but we’ve got a group coming in later. Your sister asked us to save a few tables for them.

Rose nodded as she took another sip, and turned her head to the back of the café. Heather had pulled together several of the tables that morning, setting up a space with enough chairs for a dozen people.

Is she still recruiting? she asked. Or are they planning a mission already?

Heather shrugged, a little uncomfortable and unwilling to admit she might have eavesdropped, once or twice, when things were slow at the coffee shop.

I don’t know. Doesn’t your sister tell you?

Rose snorted. Nothing scares Violet more than the thought our mom might interfere in her plans, and as far as she’s concerned I’m on our mom’s side. So no, she doesn’t tell me much. And speaking of my mother, she’ll be waiting for me. I’d better go. Have a nice day, ladies.

Heather and Janine said their goodbyes, and Rose left the shop. Even as she prepared a cup for a new customer—black coffee but with a touch of cocoa—Heather glanced once or twice toward Rose, walking down the street toward the Littlewings mansion, Sanctuary’s unofficial town hall. Rose Littlewings worked with her mother to keep all of them in Sanctuary safe; Violet Littlewings took part in missions outside of Sanctuary to help paras unfairly targeted by the authorities. And what did Heather do? Serve coffee to Sanctuary’s caffeine addicts.

She often felt like she wasn’t doing enough to help the people who’d taken her in without questions, especially when groups like Violet’s came in and she could hear them talking about saving people whose only fault was, like everyone in Sanctuary, to be gifted with a paranormal power. The thing was, while her own power was somehow more interesting than being able to pour a perfect cup of coffee, it still wasn’t anything impressive.

Some people could read minds. Phoenix shifters like Rose and her sister had near magical feathers they could rearrange on their bodies into any clothing they could conceive of. Dragon shifters inspired awe in anyone who saw them in their dragon form. Even wolf shifters, which were the most common and well known of all shifters, had some sort of mystique around them because they worked in highly organized packs, and had done so for hundreds of years.

Heather though, was just a bird shifter. No one could even tell her what kind of bird, and since her parents hadn’t been paras, they couldn’t have told her either. When she shifted, she became a blue-black bird the size of a goose with a curved white beak, with no particular power or strength.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shifted, but if she had done so right now, her bird form wouldn’t have inspired awe or fear, or anything else really into any of the shop’s patrons. She’d never be able to help Sanctuary like the people now walking in: Violet Littlewings, a phoenix like her sister, and her mate, who Heather had heard was a pyromancer, although he’d thankfully never summoned fire inside the café.

A group of people filed in behind them. Newcomers to Sanctuary, Heather knew at once, and not only because they were looking around the place with undisguised curiosity. The shop, big enough to host about fifty people at small wooden tables and chairs, was the only coffee place in Sanctuary. It was even called ‘The Coffee Shop,’ simply because there was no need to distinguish it from any other coffee joint. Everyone came around sooner or later for a cup, and most people returned soon after that. Heather had a good memory for faces, and she’d never seen any of the five men and three women looking over their drinks and snack options.

As she started on the first orders Janine was passing to her, she wondered what kind of paras they all were. If she were to hazard a guess, she’d say shifters of some kind. They all had the self-assured look that seemed to come with knowing you could become a strong, frightening beast at will. Dragons, maybe. Or from the way they stuck together, maybe a pack of wolves? Not that it was any of her business, but she saw a lot of paras, standing behind this counter, and she’d become fairly good at identifying powers.

She called Violet’s name first, and handed her the strong coffee she’d prepared for her. Violet thanked her with a smile, but something in her expression looked a little distant, or preoccupied. She waited by the counter until her mate received his drink too, and they walked step in step to the back of the room and the area prepared for them.

The next drink was for Jonas, a tall man who appeared even taller than he really was because of how straight he held himself. His eyes seemed to dart everywhere as though to prepare for danger, often coming back toward the people who accompanied him. An alpha wolf, Heather decided. Which confirmed the people that came in with him as his pack. She continued to make coffees and call names, working fast so that the first people in the group wouldn’t be done with their drinks by the time she finished with the last.

But when that last order came—a simple black coffee, nothing fancy or complicated at all—she did something she’d never done in the six years she’d worked at the coffee shop: she dropped the full cup. The ceramic shattered on the counter, and hot coffee splashed everywhere, splattering her apron, the shirt of the man standing on the other side of the counter, and the printed order with his name at the top. The order on which she’d just read the name of her tattoo mate.

*

After three days of being in Sanctuary, Wesley was feeling more irritable than ever, and not even the thought of what had been touted to the pack as ‘the best coffee you’ve had in your life’ helped soothe him. Standing at the back of the line and waiting for his turn, he had to keep his hands in his pockets or he’d be trying to scratch a non-existent itch in the middle of his back.

He’d felt on edge ever since the pack first arrived in this Sanctuary place. After coming so close to being captured by the UIPP, it was still hard to believe a place such as this one existed. Had it been up to him, he would have been wary of bringing the pack up here. Jonas, the alpha, had made the decision in a snap, and while it hadn’t precisely been an order, there had been no discussion about it.

Usually, Jonas asked for Wesley’s opinion as the second-in-command, but this time it had all gone too fast to second guess anything. They’d lost everything they had, everything they’d worked for. But what hurt the most, what soured everything for him, was the people he’d had to leave behind without so much as a goodbye. And he couldn’t even talk about it with anyone.

Another thorn of irritation was that he didn’t understand the point of this meeting today. Jonas had already met with James—damn, no, not James, his real name was Idris—and his mate to talk about their plans, and he’d relayed the information to the pack. He’d told them it was their choice whether to join the fight against the UIPP or not, but he intended to go and Wesley couldn’t believe anyone in the pack might not follow his lead. Especially now, after they’d lost one of their people. Wesley didn’t know what was worse—that Don had betrayed them all or that he’d died before they could confront him. Yet one more thing that kept his mood less than pleasant.

Lou in front of him received his coffee from the barista and stepped to the back of the coffee shop where everyone had taken place around a long table. The place was bright, with plenty of light pouring in from the