Chapter 16
Nadia knocked on the cheerful green door of the white clapboard cottage at the end of town and waited as the morning light sparkled off the surrounding snow.
She had tossed and turned all night, thinking about a very naked Caidrik.
And a nude Taryn. Then more of Caidrik. The couple had looked good together, strong and sure.
But he’d said he wanted her. He also said they needed to talk, but he hadn’t come through her window all night. Where was he?
The door swung open.
“There you are,” Gail Johnson said, grabbing Nadia’s hands and pulling her inside before she could say a word. “We’ve got coffee and tea, as well as some pastries I picked up this morning.”
The cottage smelled of sugar and warm dough. The wood floors were worn smooth, braided rugs laid where people walked most. Framed photos covered the walls. Weddings. Babies. Wolves. Old black-and-white pack shots that made Nadia slow even as she was ushered forward.
Bussy and Margaret followed on her heels.
“Here we go,” Gail chirped. “She’s here.”
Two elderly women looked up from a square table where Mah Jong tiles were spread in neat rows.
“Well, hello,” Lorraine said. She nudged her thick glasses up her nose with one finger. Her silver hair was cropped short and curled under, and she wore a bright blue cardigan over neatly pressed slacks. “It’s good to finally see you,” she said. “I heard you got dunked in the river.”
“I did,” Nadia said.
Ruth set a tile down with a soft click and adjusted the row in front of her before looking up. Her dark hair was pulled back, streaked through with silver, and her cardigan looked well worn, the cuffs softened by years of use. “We’re very glad you’re all right. That river’s no joke.”
“Everyone, please make yourself comfortable,” Gail said, already tugging a chair out.
“Sit here, Nadia.” She was tall and thin despite her age, white hair braided down her back, her floral dress half-hidden beneath a cream sweater.
“Luanne’s not feeling well today, so she couldn’t join us.
We play with Charlie when someone’s missing. ”
“That makes sense,” Nadia said lamely. The empty chair was called Charlie?
The lines around Gail’s eyes deepened as she smiled at Nadia. “We’re so pleased you survived. How frightening to tumble into that river. I just can’t believe you were in such danger.” She motioned to the tiles. “Would you like to play?”
“I haven’t learned how,” Nadia said.
“Oh my goodness,” Lorraine said. “We’ll have to teach you.”
Bussy glanced around. “We have six of us who are good at the game. That way at least four can play. If we get a couple more, we can run two tables.”
“Of course,” Margaret said. “Once Bussy and I are finished with our lupine aunt duties.”
Lorraine rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you two special?”
“We really are,” Margaret said.
“All right,” Lorraine said. “Everybody wanted the job, and you two got it.”
Nadia’s gaze drifted toward the open pantry.
She barely stopped herself from grimacing.
Cereal boxes were stacked next to pasta.
Cookies sat above canned beans. Nothing matched.
Nothing made sense. It was chaos in wooden shelving form.
She forced herself to look away. “I figured nobody really wanted the job as my lupine aunts.”
“Oh no,” Gail said, pouring tea. “We fought very hard for it, sweetheart.” She handed cups to Margaret and Bussy, then turned. “Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, please,” Nadia said instantly. She didn’t trust tea anymore.
Gail set the mug in front of her. “All right, these are the tiles.”
Nadia tried to focus. She really did. But the pantry was right there.
Gail followed her gaze and rolled her eyes. “All right. Do what you want to do.”
“Really?” Nadia gasped.
“Yes,” Gail said. “I know you, and I appreciated what you did with my laundry room.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Nadia jumped up and crossed the kitchen in three strides, opening the pantry fully and getting to work without hesitation. Boxes were grouped. Labels turned outward. Expiration dates checked. Order restored shelf by shelf. Behind her, the elders laughed softly.
“She’s a keeper,” Lorraine said.
Nadia smiled to herself as she worked. “We’ll get you some of those healthy glass containers,” she said firmly. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you organized.”
“This really does make her happy,” Lorraine murmured.
“I know,” Bussy whispered back. “You should’ve seen her when she went to town on my husband’s closet. Oh my gosh. It was color coded, and by season, and honestly, it was beautiful. But he keeps goofing it up.”
“Don’t tell her,” Margaret added quickly.
Nadia pretended she couldn’t hear. She would’ve been more than happy to go back and fix Joel’s closet.
It had been a beautiful space. Plenty of room.
Great lighting. A missed opportunity, really.
She finished lining up the cereal boxes and turned, brushing flour off her hands.
“So anyway, I was wondering if any of you could teach me the old language.”
Gail chuckled, putting a box of apple crisps on the table. “Sure, but it’ll take time. We don’t have many textbooks anymore, but we have the grimoire.”
Nadia looked over her shoulder. “You could read it, right?”
Lorraine shook her head slowly. “Not anymore. I don’t remember enough.”
“I bet I could,” Gail said softly. “It’s been a while, but I always had a thing for languages.”
“Can you get your hands on the grimoire?” Margaret asked. “I thought the rules stated only the librarian could hold it during the trials.”
Nadia shrugged. “I could try.”
Bussy slid into Nadia’s vacated seat as Margaret pulled another chair closer. “Do you not trust Solomon?”
“No,” Nadia said, “I trust him. I just want to read it for myself.”
Gail nodded, her white hair pinned into an intricate bun. “You are a bit of a control freak, dear.”
Nadia blinked. “I am?”
All of them laughed.
“I think being organized and being a control freak are two very different things,” Margaret said.
“Fair enough,” Lorraine said. “But he’s following the laws, and I think he’s doing a good job. As are Bussy and Margie.”
Nadia was getting extremely tired of the damn laws.
Margaret took a delicate sip of her tea. She wore modern jeans and a green sweater that brought out her eyes. “Do you have any idea the trouble we’d be in if we didn’t do our job? If you and Caidrik had become intimate, we’d be laughingstocks.”
Nadia swallowed. Her stomach cramped. She hadn’t realized her actions affected anyone but herself.
Yet naked against him, she wasn’t sure she could’ve said no.
Maybe she should try to stay away from him for a while.
Or did the old language really dictate that so firmly?
She hesitated. “Do you have a primer or something for the older language?”
Gail stood. “You are stubborn,” she said fondly.
“Which is something we need in our Alpha females.” She disappeared into the other room, drawers opening and closing.
When she returned, she carried several journals, their covers cracked and worn.
“These are what I used when I learned the old language. It was spoken a few hundred years ago. I translated most of these.”
The volumes looked ancient. Their leather bindings were darkened with age, the ink faded to brown, and the margins crowded with careful notes.
“Thank you,” Nadia breathed.
Gail refilled everyone’s drinks. “Also, I’m fairly certain there’s an actual translation of the grimoire somewhere. Don’t know where.”
Nadia gulped. “Do you have any ideas?”
“No, but I’ll ask around. For now, I don’t want to encourage you to break the laws,” Gail said primly.
“I know,” Nadia said, excitement flaring anyway. “I promise I’ll be careful.” She’d gotten to know the ladies the last couple of months, and she trusted them. “I have a question.”
The room quieted.
“Isaac said it’d be better to have a strong Alpha female who can fight and that Taryn might be a better choice for the pack.” Nadia lifted her chin. “If that’s true, I can handle it. I just need to know.”
The women exchanged looks.
“No,” Bussy said finally.
Margaret nodded. “You can learn to fight. What we need is someone who can move us into the modern world without burning everything down.”
“That’s a good point,” Lorraine said, pushing her glasses up. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“We want you,” Gail said simply.
Nadia’s shoulders finally dropped. “Okay.”
“But,” Bussy added, chin lowering, “you really do have to start fighting for your man.”
“Not yet,” Nadia said dryly. “I already went into the middle of nowhere and pissed him off last night. That counts, right?”
Bussy grinned. “That most certainly counts.”
Margaret smiled. “Let’s see what we can come up with next, shall we?”
Yeah. Sure. Now all Nadia had to do was fight for her man without kissing him outside of the trials. Wanting him was simple. Staying away from him was going to be the real challenge.
Her belly pleasantly full of pastries and coffee, Nadia stalked into the formal dining room of her family home. The long table gleamed under the overhead light. “Solomon. I want to see the grimoire.”
Solomon looked up from the far end of the table.
Ledgers were spread out in careful rows in front of him with each one marked.
The grimoire rested near his elbow where he leaned.
He wore a gray slate suit with a slate-colored tie that somehow worked.
“The rules prohibit my giving the grimoire to anybody,” he said softly.
She planted her feet. “I don’t believe that.”
He straightened and tugged on his tie. “The book says nobody else can take the grimoire during the trials.”
She stepped closer. “The book can’t say that.”
“Of course it does,” he said. “We don’t want anyone altering the laws in the middle of a contest.” He reached over and flipped the massive bound book open toward the back. “It’s clearly laid out here. See?”