Chapter 30 Wen
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Wen
“Honey, I’m home!”
I jolted awake at the sound of Mal’s voice echoing through my apartment, the door closing, followed by the rustling of bags, and footsteps heading toward the kitchen. I even heard him actually whistling.
He’d only been sleeping here for two days and he was already acting like we were a fifty-year married couple who’d been domestically blissful for decades.
I groaned and rolled over to check my phone. Three in the afternoon. I’d been asleep for hours after this morning’s absolute disaster.
This morning. God, this morning.
I’d woken up at dawn to weird sounds coming from the living room.
Scraping, splashing, movement. My first thought was that someone had broken in and was ransacking the place.
My second thought was that I was about to get murdered while pregnant and that seemed deeply annoying considering everything else I’d been through.
I’d grabbed the baseball bat I kept next to my bed and crept out of the bedroom, ready to defend myself and my unborn baby from whatever psychopath had broken into my apartment.
But it wasn’t a burglar.
It was Mal, on his hands and knees, scrubbing my kitchen floor with the kind of intensity usually reserved for crime scene cleanup.
At five in the goddamn morning.
I’d stood there in the doorway in my oversized sleep shirt with my mouth hanging open because he wasn’t just cleaning randomly.
He was using the right products. The wood floor cleaner that specifically said “for hardwood only” on the bottle.
The granite polish for the counters. The glass cleaner with the special formula for streak-free windows.
He even had the microfiber cloths that Mrs. Santos had convinced me to buy last year.
“How do you know what products to use?” I’d asked because this was too bizarre not to question.
He’d looked up at me with this ridiculously proud smile that made him look about twelve years old instead of an ancient werewolf king.
“I saw Mrs. Santos at the store yesterday when I was learning about human commerce. She gave me a comprehensive list of what to purchase and detailed instructions on proper usage for each product.” Then he’d pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket covered in neat handwriting that was definitely not his.
“See? She wrote down which products go on which surfaces and in what order to apply them. She was very thorough and insisted I take notes while she explained the difference between disinfecting and sanitizing.”
I’d been so completely speechless at the image of a werewolf king getting cleaning lessons from my seventy-year-old neighbor that I’d just turned around and walked back to my bedroom without saying a word. Climbed into bed. Pulled the covers over my head.
And apparently fallen back asleep until his cheerful announcement woke me up again.
I dragged myself out of bed with all the grace of a beached whale that had given up on returning to the ocean.
My back ached in three different places.
My ankles were swollen to the size of grapefruits.
The baby was doing what felt like kickboxing practice against my ribs.
Every movement was an effort. Every position was uncomfortable.
Pregnancy was such a magical journey. Truly a blessing. I couldn’t wait to never be pregnant again.
I waddled out of the bedroom toward the kitchen.
The smell hit me first and I had to admit it was impressive.
Clean and fresh with hints of lemon and something floral.
Whatever products he’d used had made the whole apartment smell like one of those fancy cleaning commercials where women in pristine white clothing laugh while doing housework.
Mal was standing at the kitchen counter unpacking bags with a smile so bright it could’ve powered the entire building for a month. His hair was slightly messy. He was wearing jeans that fit him too well and a plain shirt that showed off his arms. He looked proud of himself.
“What’s going on here?” I grunted because I’d just woken up and pregnancy made me extra grumpy when my sleep was interrupted.
He turned to face me and his smile got even bigger. “I hunted dinner for us! Fresh game to provide proper nutrition for you and our pup.”
Then he gestured proudly to the counter where two dead chickens and a rabbit were laid out in all their recently-deceased glory. Still with feathers. Still with fur. Still very obviously animals that had been alive and hopping around this morning before he’d killed them.
My stomach lurched violently.
I didn’t even try to make it to the bathroom. Just ran and barely got the toilet seat up before I threw up everything I’d eaten in the past twenty-four hours. Which wasn’t much because pregnancy nausea was still a thing, but it felt endless anyway.
Footsteps pounded behind me. Then Mal was there holding my hair back with one hand and rubbing circles on my back with the other. “Are you alright? Is it the baby? Should I call a healer? Should I take you to a hospital?”
“Why would you kill a wild animal and bring it into my apartment?” I gasped between heaves. “We have stores! Actual stores with meat that’s already dead and packaged and definitely not staring at me with glassy eyes!”
Silence. Then his voice came out small and genuinely ashamed. “I thought you would appreciate fresh game. In Ravenor, hunting for your mate is considered the highest sign of devotion and providing. The ability to bring down large prey demonstrates strength and capability as a partner.”
I felt a sharp pang of guilt even through my nausea. He wasn’t being an idiot on purpose. He was trying his absolute best to prove himself. It wasn’t his fault his kingdom was stuck in what was essentially the medieval era and hadn’t discovered the miracle of refrigeration and grocery stores.
I rinsed my mouth and turned to face him while still sitting on the bathroom floor because standing seemed like too much effort. “Get rid of those. Please. All of them. We’re going to the grocery store like normal people and buying normal pre-killed meat.”
“Of course. I am deeply sorry. I did not mean to make you sick.” He looked so genuinely upset that my guilt intensified to uncomfortable levels. “I will dispose of them immediately and clean any mess.”
“It’s fine. Just go do it now before I throw up again.”
He practically sprinted out of the bathroom. I heard him gathering up the dead animals with whispered apologies to them and then the front door opening and closing as he left.
I pulled myself up using the sink and stared at my reflection. I looked like death. My hair was a mess, my face was pale, my eyes had dark circles that rivaled Mal’s from his month of misery. Pregnancy was really doing wonders for my appearance.
I changed into comfortable clothes while he was gone.
Maternity leggings that were supposed to be supportive but mostly just compressed my legs into sausages.
An oversized sweater that used to be baggy but now just accommodated my stomach.
Slip-on shoes because bending over to tie laces was a distant memory.
Then I pulled out my phone and opened the group chat with my friends.
Wen: So Mal just brought home two dead chickens and a rabbit he hunted himself
Wen: Like actually hunted. In the woods. Then brought them to my kitchen
Wen: I threw up
Krystin: LMAOOOOO
Krystin: I’m crying
Krystin: That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all week
Bella: oh my god
Bella: is he trying to impress you with his hunting skills?
Daphne: that’s actually kind of sweet in a very disturbing caveman sort of way
Wen: It was NOT sweet it was traumatic
Wen: There were FEATHERS
Krystin: so are you going to forgive him or keep torturing him?
Bella: yeah important question
Bella: because watching you torture him is entertaining but also we want you to be happy
I stared at the messages and really thought about it.
Wen: I don’t know. I know I’ll forgive him eventually. I love him too much not to.
Wen: But I want to make him sweat first. Suffer a little.
Wen: He rejected me in front of his entire court and called me a whore
Wen: I think I’m entitled to some payback
Krystin: oh i LOVE where this is going
Krystin: what are you thinking?
Daphne: please tell me it involves public humiliation
Wen: Better. I need your help with something wicked
Bella: we’re listening
Krystin: say less. what’s the plan?
I typed out my idea. They responded immediately with enthusiasm and suggestions. Krystin said she’d call her cousin James right away. He owed her a favor from when she’d helped him move last year and this would be the perfect way to cash in.
Wen: This will teach him not to fuck with me
Bella: you’re evil and i love it
Bella: remind me never to get on your bad side
Krystin: James is in. He’ll meet you at the store in 20
Krystin: I told him to be extra friendly
Wen: Perfect
Daphne: take pictures if Mal looks like he’s going to murder someone
Wen: Will do
I was definitely smirking when Mal returned empty-handed and looking contrite. He’d washed his hands and changed his shirt but still looked like a puppy who’d been scolded.
“Ready to go shopping?” I asked with excessive sweetness.
His eyes lit up immediately. “Yes. I would very much like to learn about proper human food…shopping.”
God, he was so formal sometimes. It would be adorable if it wasn’t also infuriating.
I drove us to the grocery store because I absolutely refused to let a werewolf king who’d never operated a motor vehicle get behind the wheel of mine. He sat in the passenger seat looking at me the entire time.
“I will never stop being amazed at how fast the vehicles here move,” he observed, even though he hadn’t taken his eyes off of me. “And there are so many of them all traveling in organized patterns.”
“Welcome to Earth. We have traffic and road rage.”
“It is very efficient. Much better than horses.”