Artemisia
“Oh, no, Missy, please!”
I stop scrubbing the bottom of the dried-up fountain as Alberta makes me stop to look at her. Pushing my hair back, I see her running towards me completely shocked.
“What are you doing here? Weren’t you arranging the flowers?” She asks, making the omegas working on cleaning the fountain around me hold their breaths.
“Yeah,” I answer with a smile. “But we were done with it, and I figured my help was needed here.”
I also needed to get some aggression out of my system and I figured that scrubbing would be a nice exercise to achieve that.
Naturally, as I woke up, I smelled Fynn’s scent again. And since his disparaging words were constantly resounding in my head, it couldn’t possibly be, so I must have been hallucinating.
Stupid me.
And stupid
