Chapter 90: Building Something
Rosalie:
Looking back, I honestly couldn’t tell when time had decided to start running faster than I could keep up with it.
Somewhere between the early morning training sessions, endless evenings at the bookstore, and late nights spent writing Chapters for my novel, the days quietly blurred together. One week somehow became two. Two weeks became a month.
Customers who had once entered only because they were curious about Alpha Eiden Thorn gradually began returning because they genuinely enjoyed spending time here.
One reader recommended the bookstore to another. A student brought their classmates. A mother introduced it to her children. A retired teacher became a regular visitor every Wednesday afternoon. Without realizing it, I had stopped counting individual customers and had started recognizing familiar faces instead.
It was exactly the kind of growth I had dreamed about on my very first day here. Slow. Genuine. Built on trust rather than temporary excitement.
The past month had been the busiest - and probably the happiest - month of my life.
Every morning began before sunrise with an hour and a half of training under Eiden and Zaiden. My body still complained every single day. Some mornings my muscles hurt so badly that simply getting out of bed felt like a challenge. Yet I never once thought about giving up. Every drop of sweat, every aching muscle, every bruise had become worthwhile because of one reason - my wolf. With every passing week, I could feel her presence growing clearer inside my mind. She no longer felt like a distant stranger hiding somewhere deep within me. Sometimes I caught faint emotions that weren’t entirely my own. Occasionally she even hummed contentedly whenever Eiden praised my progress or Zaiden quietly acknowledged an improvement I had made. She still hadn’t fully awakened, but she was there. Alive. Watching. Waiting.
Every morning I trained not only for myself, but for her. I wanted the day to come when she could finally step into the world without hurting me in the process.
If mornings belonged to training, then my nights belonged to writing. After closing the bookstore around nine every evening, I would return home, prepare something simple for dinner, shower, and sit in front of my laptop until well past midnight. Nearly three hours every single night disappeared into writing Chapters, editing scenes, replying to readers’ comments, and planning future storylines.
When I had first uploaded my novel, I had only hoped it might earn enough one day to help me pay my bills. Instead, it had steadily climbed the rankings week after week until it somehow became the second bestselling novel on the entire platform.
Even now, every time I opened the app and saw thousands of readers waiting for the next update, I still had to blink twice just to convince myself I wasn’t imagining it. The messages from readers made me laugh, cry, and sometimes stare blankly at the screen wondering how strangers from different places could care so deeply about characters I had created. It still felt unreal.
Then there was the bookstore - my greatest source of pride. Every spare moment I wasn’t writing or training had been poured into making this little place flourish.
I studied marketing videos late at night, read articles about customer psychology during lunch breaks, and constantly experimented with new ideas both online and offline.
The bookstore’s social media page, which had started with only fourteen lonely followers, now proudly displayed two hundred and thirty-three. The number itself wasn’t extraordinary by internet standards, yet to me it represented two hundred and thirty-three people who now knew this bookstore existed.
More importantly, the customers kept coming back. The custom-made drinks had turned out to be one of the best decisions I’d made.
After Eiden suggested creating signature beverages instead of simply selling bottled drinks - and patiently teaching me recipes whenever we found time after training - the café corner slowly developed a loyal following of its own.
Students often came just to study while sipping one of the seasonal fruit teas or herbal blends. Office workers stopped by for iced coffee on their way home. Yesterday alone, forty people had walked through the bookstore doors. Nineteen of them purchased books, stationery, or other merchandise. Twelve came specifically for drinks before ending up browsing the shelves while waiting. Watching people naturally drift toward the books after first coming for refreshments filled me with a quiet satisfaction that was difficult to describe.
This evening, after the last customer finally left, I sat quietly behind the reception desk with my calculator, notebooks, and receipts spread across the polished wooden surface.
Carefully, I finished balancing every expense and every sale from the past month. Once the final numbers appeared before me, I stared at them for several long seconds. Then I checked them again. And once more, just to make absolutely certain I hadn’t made a mistake.
I hadn’t.
Somehow, despite investing heavily in fresh ingredients for the café, new stationery supplies after noticing how many students visited daily, decorations, packaging, and several improvements throughout the bookstore, I had still earned nearly twice as much as I had spent.
A slow breath escaped my lips before I even realized I had been holding it. Relief washed through me so suddenly that I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes for just a moment. For the first time since leaving Blackthorn Pack... I truly felt like I was standing on my own feet.
Smiling to myself, I gathered the neatly organized accounts and placed the month’s earnings into an envelope. It was already closing time, and I planned to walk over to the next street where Grandma Maggie lived to hand everything to her personally. She deserved to see what her bookstore had become in just one month.
I had just reached for the light switch behind the reception desk when the little brass bell above the entrance chimed softly.
Thinking it was a late customer, I looked up automatically. But the smile on my face froze.
Standing just inside the bookstore entrance was someone I never expected to see there.
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