Cressida POV
One lunar cycle isn't enough to prepare for a wedding. I don't think any reasonable person would believe that it is.
I'm not expecting a nice wedding anyway. Even if I had enough time to plan it properly, I wouldn't waste the resources. I don't expect many people to attend. My family. Whoever Luka is close with. The pack leaders who arranged it, maybe.
Not that they care about me, but they have appearances to maintain.
I press my forehead against the steering wheel between my hands gripping its rim on either side. Usually, starting my car and going to work is easy.
Get in the car. Keys go in the ignition. Turn it on. Hands on the wheel. Go to work.
Today feels different.
I'll show up. I'll do my job and move product from one place to another because not awakening as a wolf doesn't make me a human. I still have the strength and heightened senses of a werewolf, which makes me a beneficial employee without the need for time off every full moon.
But now there's a deadline.
Today I'm notifying my supervisor that my currently scheduled shifts will be my last. It's not practical to keep this job when I'll be moving to the Harvest Moon Pack's territory. The commute is long enough that it wouldn't make sense for me to do it on a regular basis.
I start my car and begin the drive that I know without having to think about it anymore. At low volume, the radio plays a morning show that primarily consists of a set of hosts talking with the occasional song giving them a break.
I don't know how I feel about it yet. Not fully. While I never planned to stay forever, having my decision to quit being the result of something I didn't choose leaves me a bit upset.
It's just a job. I know that. It's not even a job I particularly cared for. A way to get money and feel useful, not much else.
What I feel isn't about the job itself. It's about the choice. It isn't my choice to leave this job at this time.
The route from home to work is so familiar to me by this point that I'm pulling into the parking lot before I register that I've arrived. I park in the same area I always do and turn my car off.
But I'm not ready to go inside yet. I press the heels of my hands against my eyes as if it might relieve the burning pressure building behind my eyelids.
I hate this.
I hate all of this, and it's Aaron's fault. Aaron and whoever made the decision in the Harvest Moon Pack.
It's hard enough to spend your life knowing you're a failure. So I tried to be quiet. Forgettable. Someone who helped financially because there's nothing else I can help with in a meaningful way.
I just wanted a quiet life of being with my family and ignored by the rest of the pack.
Even that is too much to ask for when you're a failed werewolf, I guess.
I stay in the back of my workplace. That's where shipping and receiving is set up, and since my role is limited to this section, I never have much of a reason to explore the rest of the building. While I vaguely remember getting a tour from my trainer in the early days, I wouldn't be able to confidently find my way around. Not that I need the knowledge right now, since my supervisor's office is tucked into the corner of this area for convenience rather than somewhere in the corporate maze of the main office area.
My supervisor, William, has worked here before I so much as thought of applying, and he'll be here long after I leave. He's the kind of person who found what he's good at and plans on doing it until he retires. Then, maybe a bit longer after that. He's not trying to advance up the corporate ladder, which he says is too much of a hassle to deal with, and he'd rather work a role with a purpose. In his eyes, the only purpose of a corporate role is inflating your ego and the egos of your superiors.
I guess I don't know enough about the working world or corporations to know if he's right, but his conviction on the matter tells me that this stance has been fueled by years of experiences.
He knows I'm not visiting for a simple chat as soon as I knock twice on his open office door and he looks up from his papers to see me there.
I don't seek him out for fun or just to chat. I never have. Even now, I don't have the words to lead into the topic or soften the reason I'm there.
"I'm giving my two weeks."
William's expression barely changes. But maybe he expected that I'd be leaving soon. After all, I've graduated high school, and humans would be going to university or taking whatever the next step in their life path was.
I wanted to go to university. It's easier to get accepted when you can prove that your inhuman nature is harmless. They don't want to be cleaning up the result of somebody losing control, werewolf or anything else.
My pack would've let me go. They don't need me.
Instead, I'm getting married for the sake of some political scheme.
"Do you need anything?" William asks.
Yeah, I need a lot. But I'm not about to drag a human who's always been fair to the inhumans working for him into the middle of werewolf politics.
"I'm just moving. It's too far away to keep working here."
William nods. He understands logistics, so he must understand that there's a point where a job's pay and benefits are no longer worth the effort of getting to said job.
"If you need a reference for a new job, you can put me down."
A knot forms in my throat. Not enough to bring me close to tears, but enough that I recognize that I'm leaving another piece of my life behind for a future I don't want. And the people I'm leaving behind were good to me.
"Thank you."
I don't stay after that. There's nothing else to say, so I turn and leave to go work my shift. One of my last shifts.
The physical nature of the job lets my mind wander. Two weeks of shifts left. That's, what, maybe one or two more paychecks depending on the cycle?
It's not a lot of money, but it would be enough to start with if I just left.
Running away is a tempting option, especially when I know that it's still not too late to take it.