Chapter 9 - Elias
I poured a cup of coffee, then paused, staring down at the carafe. I had tried to make enough for Emma to drink as well, but I realized I didn’t know whether she liked coffee or not in the first place.
Looks like you’ve both got a lot to learn about the other, a voice whispered in my head.
I ignored it, pushing the thought back. The incident last night was still swirling around in my head, and that was enough of a distraction to deal with without having to think about how little it felt like we knew each other at times.
Just as I was about to go sit at the table, Grace bounded into the kitchen. She came to a halt as she saw me, her head tilting, her expression growing curious.
“Hi,” I said, somewhat stiffly. I didn’t mind kids. I liked them, at least for the most part. But I had no idea how to really interact with them.
“Good morning.” Grace yawned, then blinked up at me again. A pause.
“Are you hungry?” I asked after a long moment.
Her eyes lit up, and she nodded. “I’m starving. Mom said she made sure the pantry was stocked with my favorite things, so I’ll bet my cereal is already in there.”
I hadn’t looked at the pantry since they had come in.
But knowing Emma, it wouldn’t have surprised me.
Sure enough, when I opened the pantry, there was a mix of too-sugary foods and healthier options that kids would actually tolerate eating.
My eyes landed on the box of cereal that hadn’t been there yesterday.
“These Sugar Blasts yours?” I asked.
“Yeah!”
I pulled out the box, unable to hold back the small grin spreading across my face. “Funny enough, these were my favorites when I was your age.” I grabbed a bowl and tilted the cereal into it.
Her eyes went wide. “Really?”
I nodded, pulling out the milk and splashing it over the multicolored breakfast. “I used to eat this by the handful. My mom said it made me run around like a feral wolf, but I didn’t notice a difference.”
Grace giggled, her tiny hands covering her mouth. “Mom says the same thing, but she still buys them for me.”
I plopped a spoon into the bowl and handed it to her. As she ran to the table to clamber into the seat, I stared down at the box, considering. After a moment, I poured my own bowl.
I fixed the rest of my breakfast and came to sit down next to her.
If she was going to be a part of my life from here on out, I wanted to get to know her a bit better.
I studied her as she shoveled spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth.
I could see Emma around her mouth and in the round shape of her face.
Not for the first time, I wondered who the father was.
And, also not for the first time, a surge of jealousy flared out at the thought.
This time, though, because of the mating bond, it seemed to be intensified.
I studied her again, wondering what parts were her father’s while I fished for a topic of conversation. I wanted to get to know her, but I didn’t exactly have a lot of experience talking with kids.
“I saw you at the waterfall the other day,” I finally said. “Do you like swimming?”
Grace nodded, shoveling a heaping spoonful of sugary cereal into her mouth and swallowing before answering. “I love it! It’s so much fun. Mom said she used to swim all the time.”
I vaguely remembered Emma spending hours at the oasis when we were younger.
Every time I had walked by it, she seemed to be there.
I realized with a jolt that I had paid a lot more attention to Emma when we were teenagers than I had initially thought.
Had I always paid that much attention to her on a subconscious level?
Did that mean that part of me had always known we were fated mates?
That party in the desert, I had sought her out, not the other way around.
I hadn’t thought much about that until now.
“Can I ask you a question?” Grace asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Fire away.” I stuffed a spoonful of cereal into my mouth, the rush of sugar surging through me.
“Mom says you can shift.” She glanced away nervously, splashing her spoon in the milk, sending droplets flying.
“I can,” I said. “Why do you ask?”
She worried her lip as she glanced up at me.
“Sometimes I get these funny pains all over. I don’t like them. Mom says they have to do with me being a shifter. She says…” She squinted, as if trying to remember Emma’s precise words. “She says that it means I’m beginning to turn into a wolf.”
I blinked, trying to hold back the worst of my surprise and alarm. She was, what, five? And already about to shift? I thought back to what Sam had said about some of the kids in the pack. Had it been happening to Grace, too?
“How long has that been going on?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and even.
“A couple of months.”
I let that sink in. God. She was all the way in Adobe Creek. Had the effects of the sand wraith spread out that far?
“It’s a little early,” I said, keeping my tone even, not wanting to alarm her. “Does it feel like a bunch of itching just under your skin?”
She perked up and nodded vigorously.
“That’s all normal,” I promised her. “It isn’t fun, but I promise it’s worth it, and it won’t last forever.”
She worried her lower lip as she glanced down at her bowl, the sugar that passed for cereal growing soggy as it floated in the milk. “Is it scary?”
“What? Shifting?”
She nodded. “Being a wolf sounds scary, and Mom said that when it happened, I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone because people wouldn’t understand. I would have to do it in secret. I don’t want people to think I’m funny or anything.”
I chewed on this. “That was back when you lived in Adobe Creek,” I explained. “The people there don’t know about our kind. But here in Silver Falls, there are a bunch of people like you and me. You’ll see people running around as wolves all the time. You won’t have to hide, and everyone loves it.”
“Really?” Grace asked.
I nodded. “Cross my heart.”
“Why did Mom leave here?” Grace asked. “I tried asking her, but she didn’t answer.”
For the first time, I hesitated. The truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure why Emma had left.
On more than one occasion, I had wondered if it had to do with me, though I wasn’t entirely convinced that it wasn’t just my ego talking.
The timing could have been a coincidence.
Or it could have been that rejection had been the straw that broke the camel’s back after years of her feeling like an outcast.
Guilt wriggled through me. Not the first time I had felt it when it came to that night. But Grace’s question put that guilt into a new perspective. The timing from when we had sex and Emma leaving couldn’t be coincidental. Had I had more impact on her leaving than I had anticipated?
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Though I’m sure she had her reasons, and she probably had her reasons for keeping it from you, so I’d say go a bit easy on her when it comes to that.”
Grace shoveled another spoonful of cereal into her mouth as she considered this. A bit of milk dribbled down her chin, and she wiped it off with the back of her hand.
“Okay,” she said.
“What else do you like to do besides swimming?” I asked, trying to diffuse the tension.
“I really like drawing, too,” Grace said.
I raised my eyes. “Really?” That had been something I used to enjoy. I hadn’t done it in years, but I remembered sitting outside and drawing in the shade of some tree or another.
Grace nodded, her own eyes lighting up with excitement. “I asked Mom for this really nice paint set for my last birthday,” she said. “But she said we couldn’t afford it, so she got me a smaller set instead.”
“When is your birthday?” I asked, thinking that maybe I could get that paint set for her.
Money wasn’t an issue for her anymore, after all.
As soon as the words slipped out, I realized there was another reason I wanted to know.
She was five and some change. Emma and I had had sex six years ago.
And we did have similar eyes. I’d be able to do the math from her birthday.
Even as I thought this, I told myself it was nonsense. Emma certainly would have told me if Grace were my daughter, right? I knew we hadn’t spoken much, but she wouldn’t keep this from me, surely, especially now she lived here again.
Grace opened her mouth, but before she could answer, Emma hurried into the room.
“Grace, sweetie, it’s time for you to get to school. You’ll miss the bus.”
“Do I have to?” Grace groaned.
Something like relief flickered across Emma’s gaze. It might have been my imagination, but I thought I noticed her shoulders had relaxed infinitesimally. Before I could read too much into it, however, the moment was gone.
“I’m afraid so. Come on, sweetie,” she said, ushering Grace out the door.
A few minutes later, the front door opened and closed. Emma reappeared in the doorway, having dropped off Emma at the bus stop. She regarded me, finger tapping against her opposite bicep. She chewed the inside of her cheek as she debated something.
“We need to talk,” Emma finally said, taking Grace’s seat, her face serious.
Just staring at her, being this close, sent a pang of want through me as her scent wafted toward me.
That want and need hadn’t dissipated over the night.
Half of me wanted to grab her and carry her up to the bedroom right now to consummate the bond and hopefully get rid of some of these distracting needs.
I forced those urges back down, trying not to growl in frustration.
“Yeah,” I said, pulling myself back to the present, trying not to think about how Emma had felt beneath me years ago. “What’s up?”
Her fingers tapped on the table as she studied me, chewing the inside of her lip as she debated how to say whatever it was she needed to.
“You and I need to figure out the terms of whatever this is.” She gestured between the two of us.
“What do you mean? We’re mates. You’re my luna.”