Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
A shley
“That looks interesting,” Emery says, peering over my shoulder. “Are you making a cake?”
I glance back at my sister and do a little waggle with my head. Chuckling, she squeezes my arms in that reaffirming way of hers.
It’s been two days since our little fight, and Em apologized for upsetting me last night. I accepted, of course, because I know my sister never meant to upset me.
“Well, Ms. Elsie’s cornbread we had with yesterday’s chili was so delicious, I thought I’d try to remake it,” I tell Emery while I sprinkle rainbow sprinkles into the mix. “But since Ms. Elsie already took some chili and cornbread over to him, I thought it’d be a good idea to spruce things up a little.”
There’s a beat of silence behind me. I pause on stirring the mix to look back at Emery. Her head is cocked to the side.
“You’re taking that over to someone?” Her voice pitches a little high at the end of her question.
I never told Emery about meeting Ms. Elsie for the first time in the mountains by my tombstone the other day. But yesterday, I sort of cornered Ms. Elsie and asked her again if she knew where Christophe was. That’s when she told me he was back at his old house, and where it was.
Slowly, I nod, confirming Emery’s question.
“Who?”
The answer should be obvious.
I turn back to continue stirring the cornbread mix, preparing it to go into the oven. “Christophe.”
“Ashley.”
I barely hold in my grimace. The oven beeps, granting me a small reprieve as it lets me know it’s ready for the batter.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I’ve already planned it out,” I say at the same time I pour the batter into the foil baking pan.
“Planned what out, exactly?” my sister cautiously asks.
“Well …” I push out a breath. “Shit!” I jump away from the counter when some of the batter misses the pan and splashes on me. “Damn, now I’m going to need to change my shirt before we go to dinner. That won’t be a problem, I can just put the pan in the oven and set the timer. Then we can go to?—”
“Ashley,” Emery calls as if it’s not the first time.
I blink and look over my shoulder at my sister.
“Where are you taking that cornbread?”
“It’s not quite …” My explanation of my creation peters out when she holds up a hand.
“Where are you taking it?”
“To Christophe,” I finally confess, at the same time she starts shaking her head. “I know he can’t come to dinner for some reason, but it doesn’t make sense to me. He’s a part of this pack and he’s being treated like an absolute outcast.”
The widening of Emery’s eyes relays to me how high-pitched my voice has become. It’s not my intention to raise my voice to my sister. I hadn’t noticed how defensive I’d gotten over Christophe.
Mate, my wolf chimes in. I run a hand across my chest, soothing the wolf I’m still getting acquainted with. She and I might not fully understand one another just yet, but something feels so right when she utters those words that it’s useless to try to deny it.
That thought, however, causes my stomach to clench.
“This is not a good idea,” Emery says.
I know my sister well enough to see when she’s gearing up for one of her lectures.
“The Nightwolf pack has a long history and existence way before you or I ever got here. If they are treating Christophe a certain way, it’s because he deserves it.”
“He doesn’t,” I counter. “The Christophe I know wouldn’t do anything to warrant this type of behavior.”
She tilts her chin down, eyeing me. “The Christophe you know? You two haven’t even?—”
“Don’t say it.” I know what she’s about to say. We haven’t even seen each other, not really. Have hardly spent any time in the same room. Yes, I know all of this, yet I still hold by what I just said.
The door creaking open catches both of our attention. Chance, my sister’s mate, slowly enters the front door, pausing and looking between the two of us. His copper brown eyes move to the pan behind me on the counter.
When he turns his eyes on my sister they visibly soften. While he still appears as big and looming as the first time I met him, he almost visibly lights up the moment he lays eyes on Emery.
The two stare at one another. There aren’t any words exchanged, but Emery soon nods as if answering a question. A small smile lights up Chance’s face.
I get the sense they were talking to each other, and although I’m only a few feet from them, I didn’t hear a thing.
Mate bond , my wolf reminds me. I’d forgotten about mates’ ability to silently communicate. I busy myself with putting the pan in the oven at the same time Emery tells me, “It’s time to go over to Alpha Chael’s for dinner.”
I swallow and have half a mind to tell Emery I’m not going, but I can’t do that.
What I would prefer, though, is to head straight over to Christophe’s. His home is on the edge of the town, I believe. Near where the pack doctor’s clinic is set up. I was introduced to Dr. Drake the moment I arrived here at the commune.
“I have to change my shirt.” I wave a hand in the direction of my now-stained T-shirt before rushing off to the spare bedroom to grab a shirt.
“We’ll wait,” Emery calls behind me.
I don’t respond to her as I enter the bedroom and head straight for the small closet where my clothes hang. I pull out a bright yellow and orange tie-dye shirt that I made a few years ago. After tossing the shirt over my head, I tie a knot in the back before heading out to the living room where Emery and Chance are still waiting.
Both eye me as if watching in anticipation of what a previously misbehaved child might do.
I smile brightly. “Ready.”
I take one final glance at the oven, reminding myself that the timer is set and I can come back and grab the pan before walking it over to Christophe’s after dinner.
The idea of him eating alone makes my heart sink.
Not tonight, is my last thought as I step out of my sister and her mate’s home.
* * *
“He’s not who you think he is,” Janice, one of the middle-aged female members of the pack, tells me as I stand halfway in the doorframe of Alpha Chael’s kitchen entrance.
A roomful of Nightwolf shifters stares at me.
When Janice asked me why I was rushing off after eating dinner, I mistakenly told her the truth. That started a series of people telling me what a liar and manipulator Christophe is.
“With all due respect, Ms. Janice, I think you’re wrong.” I almost cringe at the way my voice trembles in my reply. It’s not because I don’t believe the words I’ve just said. But I respect the members of the pack that I’ve met so far. All of them have welcomed me with open arms.
But their venom toward Christophe …
“He almost killed us,” Janice insists. She waves her hand around, turning her head this way and that, searching for someone. Her attention lands on Chance. He’s the highest member of the pack in the room since Alpha Chael and his wife, Reese, have taken a trip up North to some council or something.
“Beta Chance, tell her what he did. If it wasn’t for you, we all would’ve died at his hands.”
“He’s a traitor,” Mike, another beta of the pack, says at the same time a scraping of a wooden chair against the stone flooring of Alpha Chael’s kitchen catches my attention.
“If Alpha Chael were here, he would forbid you from going,” a different female voice adds.
“Do any of you know what we went through in that place?” I blurt out, drawing all eyes on me. “What he went through? How he suffered in there?”
I swallow down the tears and emotion that threaten to overtake me before turning to Chance.
“You saw his injuries,” I say to him. “You saw what shape he was in when you pulled him out of that hellhole. Do you think he deserved that ?”
There’s a beat of silence.
“What’s she talking about?” Mike asks, looking between Emery and Chance.
My sister opens and closes her mouth. “I-I don’t think it’s up for me to say?—”
“They never told you?” I cut in. “The way he was beaten, tortured, and poisoned.” I shake my head, my vision blurring from tears. “Most nights I still can’t sleep without hearing his screams because of what our captors did to all of us.”
I wipe away my tears.
“I know I’m new here and you all barely know me. A-And, I believe it when you say you were hurt by whatever Christophe did. But …” I push out a shaky breath. “But I can’t not go to him when I know he’s in his home alone with the same horror living in his head that’s in mine.”
I take a step back.
“Ashley.” Emery reaches for my hand, but I pull it back before she can make contact.
As much as I love Emery, it’s not my sister’s consolation that I want right now.
“I have to go,” I say before rushing out of the door. I don’t stop or turn around when Emery calls my name. I expect her to come after me, so I pick up my pace until I’m running.
Only once I’m back at the steps of my sister’s house and I see that no one’s behind me, do I allow myself to relax a little. But my reprieve doesn’t last long, because I soon push the door open to the smell of burnt cake.
I gasp and quickly move to the oven, pressing the button to turn it off. A billow of smoke bursts out of the oven as soon as I open the door.
“Dammit!” I thought I’d set the timer but must’ve forgotten. My eyes water, blurring my vision of the mostly burnt half-cornbread-half-cake I made.
I know the tears aren’t due to the cake though. It’s because of the memories of the various expressions on the pack member’s faces when I mentioned Christophe’s name. Everything from slight distaste to unease and outright disdain existed in those faces.
My heart sinks as I shake my head.
I pause for a beat, thinking that maybe I should give it up.
“ Who’s your best friend?” Christophe once asked me while in that hellhole.
“ My sister, I think,” I’d told him.
“ Good. Everyone should have at least one best friend.”
His voice had sounded so burdened as he said it. Not the usual weight from our circumstances that loaded it down, but sorrow.
That memory has me rolling my shoulders back. I search the drawers and pull out a knife. There are a few salvageable pieces in the cornbread-cake thingy I’ve made. After packing them up in a small Tupperware container, I head out.
Relief fills me when I see that neither Emery nor Chance are waiting for me outside of the door. I don’t stop to think about why she hasn’t followed me, or no one else is here trying to stop me.
To make sure I avoid anyone, though, I exit through the back of Chance and Emery’s home and take the back route toward the area where Christophe’s home is. The grassy and stone field, which winds around the entire commune, guides me in the direction toward my mate.
“Hi,” I say cheerily to a large guy standing in front of the door of Christophe’s small home.
He lowers his arms from over his chest and eyes me cautiously.
“Ashley, right?” he asks, sounding almost friendly.
“That’s right.” I nod.
“Are you lost?” He points across the street. “Dr. Drake’s office is over there, but …” He pauses to glance up at the dark sky. “It’s pretty late, and he’s not there now. You’ll have to come back in the morning.”
“I’m not here for Dr. Drake. I came to see Christophe.”
His eyes flare.
“No. You ca?—”
“What’s your name?” I ask as kindly as possible.
“Winston.”
“Well, Winston, it’s nice to meet you again,” I say, already knowing his name from when we met yesterday morning at breakfast. “I wanted to bring Christophe something to eat. I’m sure he’s hungry.”
“He has leftovers from the meals Ms. Elsie’s brought him.”
“That’s perfect,” I say as I hold up the Tupperware in my hands. “This is dessert then. I’ll just …” I stop walking as he moves himself in between me and the door.
“That’s not a good idea.”
“I promise I won’t be very long.” That’s a lie. I plan on staying as long as possible, but he doesn’t need to know that just yet.
“I don’t think this was approved by the Alpha.”
“Sure it was.” I ignore the guilt over the lie I’m about to tell. “Right before he and Alpha Queen went up North, he told me I could come for a short visit. It’s because …” I hesitate, debating how much of the truth I want to reveal to Winston.
“Well, we were in … that place together, and Alpha Chael thought it might be helpful for me to speak with Christophe to help figure out who was behind that awful place.”
His lips contemplatively twist.
I don’t love lying to my new pack mate, but it feels necessary at this point.
“Do you have any technology on you?”
I scrunch up my face in confusion.
“A laptop, tablet, cell phone?”
I shake my head. “I lost all of that stuff. Haven’t had a chance to replace it yet.”
He nods. My heart soars.
“Guess it won’t hurt anything if you go in for just a little while.” He glances back at the closed door. “He’s been quiet in there. Probably asleep.”
I nod before stepping forward. I slowly twist the doorknob and open the door.
“Christophe?” I whisper.
I’m met with silence.
“Christophe, it’s me, Ashley,” I say a little louder. I step fully into the house and close the door behind me.
The whir of the electricity from the refrigerator and a steady drip drop from the kitchen sink is the only thing I hear.
That is until I get completely still.
“One … two … three …”
My eyelids fall closed. I know what he’s doing.
He would do the same thing while we were locked away. In the down times, most likely the times he thought I was sleeping in my cell, I would hear him counting reps and breathing hard.
I step toward the opened door of what I suspect is a bedroom. My body moves before my brain can catch up. Before I know it, I’m standing just to the left of his partially opened doorway.
From this angle, I can see part of his body. He’s shirtless in only a pair of black sweatpants. My senses have noticeably sharpened since my body has detoxed off the drugs they fed us in that prison.
Even in the dark it’s not difficult to see the defined muscles of his arm as he lifts and lowers his slim, but cut, body for one push-up after the other.
Christophe isn’t as big or broad as Chael and Chance, but he’s still cut and every bit as firm.
Long strands of dark hair blanket the side of his face, and his attention remains on the floor in front of him. I yearn to see his face so much that I don’t think about my next move.
A breath later, I call out to him. “Christophe?”
He stops mid-pushup. Slowly, his head starts to lift.
Then I remember.
“No!” I yell before spinning my body so my back is now against the wall next to the doorframe.
“Don’t come out!” I panic when footsteps pad closer. “Stop, we can’t look at each other.”
The movement stops.
I haven’t forgotten that he can’t look at me. My heart squeezes so tightly in my chest that an ache spreads throughout my chest.
“Ashley?”
The way he says my name brings tears to my eyes and causes my wolf to purr.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
I stick out the Tupperware into the doorway. “I brought you a gift.”