Chapter 22 Mona
The door rattles in its frame, the knob jiggling aggressively, like he might snap it off. "This is serious, Mona," Grayson growls, voice rumbling through the wood. "Open up. We need to talk."
I fold my arms across my chest, leaning my full weight against the door. "Not until you call Doc!" I shout back, ignoring the sound of his closed fist banging. He snarls on the other side.
I should be scared.
Any other alpha I met on the road would have me cowering or running by now, and they were all significantly less powerful than him—instead, rebellious heat courses through me. My omega shudders with excitement the more pissed off he gets. I don't get it.
"Or Orion!" I add, just to piss him off.
I should've known something was wrong yesterday when, after Doc's rapid-fire interrogation, he determined that yes, my wolf has a voice of her own.
And apparently, that's not normal.
I spent the rest of the day anxiously stewing. When my mates finally came home, I knew they'd spoken to Doc. Their faces said it all. Something was wrong with me.
Broken.
Defective.
So, I locked myself in my new room with the entire bag of groceries Hilde gave me.
They knocked. I ignored them.
This bedroom has a bathroom, a couch. Lots of books.
Bet they regret giving me this much space now.
Something warm wiggles around inside me as Grayson continues to bang on the door.
Excitement, irritation, calm. It's an odd amalgam of emotions, and if I let myself analyze it, I'm sure it would have something to do with the fact that, even if they do think something is wrong with me, they are here, showing up, trying to talk to me. My dad never did that.
I told him when I was feeling off, when it felt like the medications were making me drowsy, more clumsy, when the quiet ache through my limbs became so loud, so unbearable, I could barely stand.
He never comforted me, never worried about me.
Just showed up with different pills, muttering about changed dosages or new prescriptions.
I was alone for so long.
And now, I'm anything but.
Yesterday, I caught Joey and a little girl, a couple of years older than him, spying on me through the woods. I knew I had a few hours to kill before the guys got home, and it felt weird to be in their house all day by myself.
I recognized Joey's grassy scent immediately. Beep found them entertaining while I pretended not to notice their cute little heads ducking behind branches, busying myself with weeding the flowers in the window boxes.
I overheard snippets of their whispered conversation about the new omega. Though the attention felt excessive, it was sweet, so I let them look their fill. If my presence comforted them like Joey described at the hospital, I wouldn't deny them, even if I didn't understand it.
When I accidentally caught Joey's eye, both children gasped and fled back through the trees. Beep huffed in amusement, and I went back inside.
The door bangs again, softer this time. Barely. "Mona. Open the door."
"Call. Doc."
Grayson growls loudly, but this time, I hear footsteps, and can almost hear his finger angrily jabbing the touchscreen buttons on his phone.
I'm not having a conversation about my mental health and the health of my wolf without the doctor present, and no matter what Grayson makes me feel—supported, flattered—I'm not going to let him bully me with his big personality. I barely know the man.
We both wait on either side of the door, and about ten minutes later, Orion joins him.
"Doc's here," Orion calls out patiently.
"Great!" I happily swing the door open. Orion grins. Beside him, Grayson looks… frustrated. Night and day, these two.
Grayson sighs heavily and steps back, holding his arm out for me to walk past. I inhale their scents, letting it feed something inside me, and when Orion puts his hand on my back to follow me downstairs, I nearly preen.
We find Doc in the living room, sitting on one of the worn leather couches.
I'm getting used to noticing the difference between betas and alphas now.
Orion said alphas were like the sun. Walking past Grayson, it's like stepping too close to the flames.
The heat of his stare, his presence, demands attention, obeisance.
But Doc's energy hums lower, like an ember.
Calmer, steadier—that and his ever-present warm smile draw me forward.
Doc opens his mouth to say something, but Grayson, crowding behind me, interrupts. "We need to talk about your wolf." His voice is thunderous, like he's been saving it up since the moment he found out I was different.
"Nice to see you too, Grayson. I'm doing great, slept really well, thanks for asking." My voice drips with sarcasm.
His sage green eyes narrow as I walk past him, and even though I can tell he's irritated, it makes my lips twitch.
I've been here for four days. The first night I spent in the hospital. The last two, I slept in the bedroom upstairs, still unsure, still lost and confused.
Today, things feel different. I can't quite put my finger on it, but somehow, I know I can push his buttons and he won't hurt me or leave me to figure all this out on my own.
"You talk to your wolf," he says flatly.
"You don't?" I ask, taking the brown paper bag Doc hands over. Orion guides me to one of the couches with his warm palm on the small of my back. I sink down beside him, my thigh pressing against his much larger one.
Orion's chocolate hazelnut scent wraps around me, bright blue eyes locking with mine. He smiles mischievously, and I have an urge to run my fingers through his short beard and tug—it's just long enough to look rugged without hiding that jawline.
I wonder how it would feel dragging against my skin.
The rough texture between my thighs. The image makes my omega pulse with heat, but it's not just arousal—I can feel the desire pulling from my heart, deep in my chest. I suck in my bottom lip, lost in the image of Orion's mouth claiming me, his head between my legs, powerful hands gripping my knees to hold me open.
Like he can read my thoughts, he tilts his head toward mine, nostrils flaring slightly, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a knowing half-smile.
I clear my throat. He chuckles before nuzzling the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. A gesture he's never done before, so it catches me by surprise, and I shiver when his lips graze the soft skin just below my ear. It's comforting, so wonderful, I just lean into him.
"You smell so good, Mona," he whispers, lips brushing my neck, my ear.
"It's the pie," I say dumbly, squeezing the forgotten paper bag in my lap.
He hums. "It sure is."
Heat floods my cheeks, and I tear my eyes away, only to find Grayson glaring at us. Doc is slightly amused, the tips of his ears turning pink.
Whoops.
Grayson's jaw tightens before he responds, "To answer your question, yes, I communicate with my wolf.
I give him directives. Orders. We do not have conversations—my wolf does not talk back.
" His hands curl into fists, knuckles whitening before he stretches his fingers out again, like he's trying to get himself under control.
"Then, how do you know what your wolf wants?" I ask through a mouthful of flaky blackberry pie. I catch falling crumbs with the bag, licking the juice off my fingers. Hand pies are great. And Hilde is the absolute tits.
Suddenly Grayson's face is inches from mine. I freeze mid-chew.
"Sorry, what?" I mumble.
He growls, flashing his teeth before stepping back again. "I said, I have a connection with my wolf. I can feel his needs. He doesn't tell me what he wants because I can feel it. That's how all shifters operate. That is how a normal wolf behaves."
Orion and Doc pipe in to defend me, but I cut them off. "Normal? You're really showing your age there, old man."
"It is not normal to have a conversation with your wolf! She cannot talk back to you. So either you're misunderstanding or misrepresenting your relationship with her, or there is something seriously wrong."
"Now, I wouldn't say wrong per se—" Doc holds a hand up, but Grayson cuts him off.
"Oh, come on now, Doc. Don't back down now. Yesterday you said, and I quote, there might be something seriously wrong with her wolf if they're having conversations with each other."
The blackberry pie turns to ash in my mouth. "Doc?" My voice cracks. I wipe my sticky fingers on my pants, suddenly feeling stupid and silly.
"Mona, I didn't want to alarm you yesterday, but it is quite unusual. And it does have me worried."
He asked me a million questions yesterday, but didn't make it sound like there was something seriously wrong with me. He hugged me goodbye as if everything was fine.
And here I am, eating this delicious pie, like a little kid. The sticky juice is still on my fingers and I want to wash my hands and not feel so pathetic in front of all these impressive wolves.
"You said not to worry," I grimace.
"Yes, well…"
"But you told them to worry?" I ask, pointing at Grayson.
The betrayal cuts deep. Doc has the decency to look ashamed, but the damage is done.
He turns to me, voice gentle, like he's talking to a child.
"Mona, dear, I'm sorry. I did say that. But I've had time to think about it since then, and I think it may be tied in with why your wolf was suppressed.
I have some theories. I need to get in touch with Kendrick, perhaps we've seen this before. "
"Great," Grayson cuts in. "You get in touch with Kendrick and find out why my mate is such an aberration. Meanwhile, I'll see if she won't start giving me some answers as to where she's been all this time. Why she came here. Who sent her."
"Grayson. Shut the fuck up." Orion's words slice through the tension, low and lethal.
"Maybe Andrea was right. We need to start asking questions." Grayson's eyes bare into mine, determination hardening his features.