Alpha Assignment (GL) Chapter 17 (Early Access) (Patreon)

A sad little man was standing on her doorstep. Quinn didn’t like how often this scenario was occurring. She slammed her car door and he jumped at the noise but didn’t run away. The further up the stone path she got, the more familiar his face became.

Assembly. Not Greasy Graham, though. The other one.

His mouth opened when she reached the front door, before he could speak, she hissed, “Not a word until we’re inside.”

Mouth closed, sad nod, he followed her into the house.

She shut the door and tossed her bag onto the sofa. Assembly man took himself to the centre of the living room, just like last time.

“Mister Isaac!” The squeaky greeting came from under the dining table. A top-knot of dark hair popped out from underneath, followed by the rest of Remi. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry, Remi, I didn’t know you were in here alone.” He glanced at Quinn, mild and silent judgement in his eyes.

“Is something wrong…” Quinn froze with a finger in the air, his name on the tip of her tongue. Remi had just said it, but already it had fallen off her brain.

“Isaac, Alpha,” he offered politely. “And no, nothing wrong. With Remi’s assignment to you, it’s the Assembly’s responsibility to check in occasionally on her progress assimilating into the pack.”

“What pack?” she grunted, unashamed of her rudeness.

Isaac pretended not to hear her. “Could I speak to Remi alone, Alpha?”

Quinn gave him a stern look, holding it for a few moments before turning back to Remi. “Is that okay with you, Remi?”

“Yes, Alpha! Mister Isaac is nice.”

Quinn nodded, more to herself. “Okay, let me grab my laptop and I’ll be working from my bedroom.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” they said in unison. Remi sing-song and Isaac weary.

Quinn kept peeking at the pair as she collected her things. They hopped onto the sofa and Isaac pulled out a clipboard from a tatty briefcase he’d brought with him. Before she had scaled the stairs, she caught the first few questions in the apparent check-in.

“Are you sleeping well?”

“I sleep so much now,” Remi revealed, her words filled with wonderment.

“I’m glad.” He sounded it. Exhausted, but glad. “And what about food? Are you getting enough to eat?”

“Plenty, Mister Isaac!”

“You look like you’ve put on a bit of weight,” he noted.

Remi laughed cheerfully in response. “No height, though,” she joked.

Isaac laughed, too. It was the last thing Quinn caught before she shut her bedroom door and their voices became indistinguishable rumbles under her feet.

Jordan noticed her return online immediately. Lots of supportive messages came through, and Quinn couldn’t conjure the energy to be better than blunt. She was okay, she might be disappearing again, will let her know if she needs anything.

Curiosity was too gentle of a word, Quinn was desperate to listen in on the conversation happening downstairs. What would they say to each other without her listening in? Had they found Remi a new pack? Was Isaac concerned about the way Remi was being treated in Quinn’s home?

After an eternity of pacing and wiggling her mouse, which the clock deemed to be only twenty-three minutes, a knock on her door had Quinn leaping over her bed to answer it.

“All finished, Alpha!” Remi announced, bouncing on her toes in the doorway with a smile so bright it could make any alpha wince.

“Good,” Quinn grunted. She didn’t meant to let her frustration show, but Remi noticed immediately: eyes wary and arms tucking in to her sides to minimise her already mini size.

Isaac was poised at the bottom of the stairs, patiently watching alpha and omega descend. With a grazing touch between her shoulder blades, Quinn nudged Remi into the living room. Quinn remained with Isaac.

“Thank you for your understanding, Alpha. I’m sure I don’t need to explain why these checks are so important, but I’m satisfied with your current pack conditions.”

Quinn didn’t respond. She knew her arms tucked tightly over her chest would be read as defensive. She didn’t care.

Isaac bobbed his head and let himself out through the front door.

As she shut it behind him, Quinn grumbled, “Next time, text first or I’m charging the Assembly for my speeding ticket.” He didn’t answer. She didn’t give him time to.

Leaning back against the closed door, she let herself wonder… was she taking good enough care of Remi? It would be unfair to ask Remi what she told Isaac, because she would feel obliged to answer. Any maybe Quinn wouldn’t like the answer… and Remi would be terrified to upset her.

Quinn would need to work it out for herself.

Well-fed, sleeping enough, and Quinn was doing her best to provide entertainment for Remi despite her attempts to dedicate herself to servitude.

She pushed off from the door and headed into the living room. Standing in the centre of the cream carpet, almost to attention, was Remi. A mishmash of colours were crocheted into the cardigan that drooped from her frame; even if it did fit her, which it didn’t, the loose yarn dangling from the hems would betray the ancient condition of the hideous garment. On Remi, it was sweet, an ode to a grandma who had lovingly created something to keep a small child warm. But Remi wasn’t a child. She needed real clothes, ones that fit and were devoid of gaps.

Quinn nodded a request to be followed into the kitchen, they would have lunch together, and while they prepped, Quinn let her mind tug at the loose threads of Remi’s appearance.

Every piece of clothing that Remi had worn since arriving on her doorstep had appeared oversized. Hand-me-downs were a part of growing up in packs - Quinn had been wearing her dad’s old shirts at fifteen when she couldn’t get a limb into any of the teenage-sized offerings. Every pack had a heap of clothes that was regularly added to and picked through. It was the only way to keep up with all the puppies - they grew like weeds. Pre-ownership was not a requirement for clothes, though. Everyone had a few items that were theirs first. Unless someone had convinced Remi she was going to hit an extra growth spurt at twenty-four, it seemed unlikely that any of her clothes had been bought for her.

They chopped vegetables side-by-side: Quinn potatoes and carrots, Remi runner beans and baby sweetcorn. The only sound in the kitchen was the thunk of knives against wood.

“Are you... comfortable with your clothes?” Quinn asked, keeping her eyes on the task.

Remi paused. “Yes, Alpha?”

“With Autumn here, some days can get quite cold…” Quinn shrugged. She didn’t know if Remi was even looking at her, she remained focused on her own chopping board.

“I'm fine,” Remi said quickly. The sound of her knife joined Quinn’s again. “Thank you, Alpha.”

Despite Remi’s attempt to end the topic, Quinn had to be sure. “You'll let me know if you're uncomfortable, won't you?”

This time, Remi paused but didn’t answer. Quinn glanced down.

“Remi?”

Remi tilted her face up and nodded obediently.

Since she had come home early and not completed a full office day, Quinn felt obliged to go in on Tuesday. She gave Jordan and her manager the same vague excuse that her security system had flagged someone on her property but when she got back they were gone. They encouraged her to file a report with the police. She waved it off with a fake laugh, telling them she could handle herself - it was her cream carpets she didn’t want stepped on. They laughed, too, abated.

On the way home she took a detour. She told Remi she made a mistake and took the wrong exit. That she’d found herself in a shopping park and figured she might as well pick up some necessities while she was there. And then, as these things happen, she’d found some really lovely clothes: sweaters and trousers and a coat that looked so plush it could be used as a pillow. As sod’s law would have it, none of these beautiful finds were Quinn’s size. She couldn’t leave such nice clothes on the rack…

Even having picked out the smallest sizes available (and the friendly sales assistant had thoroughly checked the stock room for her) there was still some room to grow when Remi modelled the new clothes around the living room. Unaware that her beaming, awe-filled smile was helpfully blocking out the unaccounted spend in Quinn’s monthly budget. Jordan had rattled on about some article a few months back, and the joy that comes from spontaneity. Quinn could afford to be spontaneous once in a while, and when it made Remi this happy… any consequences seemed insignificant.

Remi reverted to her old, shabby clothes for their second attempt at painting class that same night, reasoning she wouldn’t be nearly as upset to get mess on them. She was surprisingly confident, given it had only been a week since that disastrous night. Quinn had hoped the new clothes would do that for her, but she wasn’t even wearing them.

In the car, they had a pep talk about mess. About the leisure centre being a space to express with mess. The same rules did not apply to Quinn’s house. That was a space to express appreciation for silence and order and self-care.

Settled and secure in their fresh ground rules of mess containment, they locked hands and headed back into the leisure centre.