Chapter 25 Mona
I've surmised Grayson is militant in all things. He's up early, means what he says, and expects everyone around him—enforcer or not—to follow his lead and obey.
I've learned this much about him, and knew whatever he had planned to help me and Beep would be just as intense as everything else he does.
And so, after another restless night of poor sleep, ignoring the inexplicable, gnawing ache in my chest when I see Silas with this unnamed woman in my dreams, I decide to beat Grayson at his own game and leave before he could make me do whatever it was he had planned.
I still haven't forgiven him for the way he treated me, and if he thought distracting me would get me to forgive him, he's wrong.
Though the air is humid, it has a cool bite to it as I slip out of the cabin before sunrise.
I can see the shape of my palm in the gray light; dawn is close.
Still, I hurry along the dirt drive, enjoying the long walk, listening to animals and birds scurry in the trees, hustling so my alphas don't wake and chase after me.
It's a pleasant walk. Beep is content, and so am I. It's hard to believe only a week ago I was so alone. Destitute.
It makes me appreciate this place even more.
I take my time, but eventually the road opens up into a large field, buildings cropping up slowly, then in a cluster. I'm surprised to find the cafeteria barn doors wide-open already, smoke billowing from a chimney at the back.
It's empty as I approach, but I meander around all the empty picnic tables and find Hilde and a few shifters in the back, the kitchen in full-swing.
Hilde catches my eye and winks, but holds her finger up for me to wait. It distracts the workers, who all stop to stare. A couple even try to approach me, but Hilde reprimands them and everyone gets back to work.
"Mona," she sings happily, wiping her hands on the towel hanging off her apron, tied around her thin waist. "You're up early. Are you hungry? Sit, let me feed you."
She doesn't wait for an answer, just ushers me toward a table and practically shoves me into the seat.
"I didn't mean to bother you—"
"You're no bother," she waves me off. But she's clearly in the middle of a hundred tasks.
She pauses what she's doing to instruct a man around my age.
He listens, but I wonder if he'll be able to recall the number of eggs the recipe calls for, considering how many times his eyes wander over to me.
We accidentally catch eyes and his cheeks turn pink, which prompts Hilde to slap him upside the head.
I can't help it. I giggle. And the guy looks even more sheepish before dashing off.
"It's a busy time. We do a lot of prep the night before and first thing every morning. Serving time is actually the slowest time for us."
I abruptly stand. "Oh! Hilde, you're crazy busy. I didn't realize. Really, I can come back later, I'm not even—"
"Sit," she instructs, leaving no room for argument. She says it like a scolding mother and, worried she'll slap me upside the head too, I sit.
Everyone works together to feed the thousand wolves that will wander in and out of here throughout the day.
Periodically, Hilde fills my plate. She pulls biscuits from the oven, drops one on the plate in front of me, then dumps the rest in a basket before refilling with batter.
And as she slices roasted meat, a sliver ends up on my plate before the rest is piled onto a silver serving tray.
It's nice. Peaceful, and I love that I don't feel awkward even though we don't really know each other and aren't really talking. From everything I've heard of Hilde, she's like the clan's surrogate mother.
Strong, smart, quick, and no one fucks around in her presence. But she's kind and warm and loving, too, and that she's accepted me with open arms—it makes me feel like I've passed some kind of test, and all the other shifters follow her lead.
She makes me feel wanted.
I never had a mother, but I like to think if I did, she would have been like Hilde.
Though I can't imagine my father with a woman like her. Her expectations are too high; he'd never been good enough for someone like her.
As time passes, with more space from what happened, I can admit things I couldn't right after his death. No, he wasn't affectionate. Not when I was little, not on my birthday or holidays. Not when I was too sick to move.
He was unkind. Would snap at me for little things.
I wasn't allowed to hang out in the living room or kitchen if he was home.
Which was always, because he never worked.
God only knows where his money came from.
If I needed anything, he'd shove cash in my hand and tell me to buy my own food. My own clothes, soap, school supplies.
My father never loved me, maybe even resented me, which is why it makes me wonder why he put so much effort into my health. And if I was really born a shifter, like Doc says… what did that make him?
I munch on food and stew in my thoughts as the sun rises. I glance up at the skylights above, opened to release the humidity building in the kitchen, made worse by the summer air, when I catch that minty, green apple scent.
Andrea's eyes narrow on me from across the room. I didn't even notice her coming in.
I should look away.
But I watch as she aggressively slips on an apron and ties the strings. I'm surprised they don't tear off with her jerky movements. She stomps to the pots along the wall, and they make a loud clanking sound as she rips a few off their hooks.
Hilde catches on to the alpha's animosity in the air, and nudges my shoulder. I didn't even notice her approach.
"Don't worry about her."
"I'm not. I—honestly, I feel kind of bad about the whole thing."
Andrea admitted to me her history with Grayson and her dream of becoming Luna. It's ridiculous to feel jealous when half the time I want to throttle him, and my omega is furious Andrea and Grayson were together. But I can admit, it must be hard for her, too.
We should kill her.
Beep's thoughts spring up, uninvited. I snap back, No, we are not killing Andrea. That's actually insane. And homicidal.
She took what was ours, Beep says. She touched what was ours. And she beat us. Nearly killed us. Made us look like fools.
I swallow a groan. Okay, crazy pants. Back in your box.
I take a deep breath and try to shake off the sudden onslaught of jealous rage. Hilde's watching me with amusement.
I shake my head and say, "I'm trying to imagine how I'd feel if I were her.
After the way I showed up. And, I guess, if she and Grayson were…
you know." I shrug uncomfortably and wave my hand in the air.
I can't say the words—what Grayson and Andrea might have been to each other—they get stuck in my throat, make me feel itchy and hurt.
He is not hers. He's ours, Beep snarls. She drags my gaze back to the alpha shifter, who pointedly ignores me as she preps food in the corner of the kitchen. And I fucking hate that I feel this way, that I want to punish her for touching Grayson.
My gigantic alpha, so bossy and rude. So big and fearless. With thick, dominating energy that rattles out of him, shaking me to my core.
Stop, Beep. You aren't helping, I plead with her. Finally, she allows our attention to drift from Andrea.
Hilde pulls a white terry-cloth towel from her apron and begins absently wiping down the table while she gathers her words.
"This punishment isn't about you, Mona. Not really."
Orion said something similar yesterday. "Because of Grayson, you mean?" I ask, trying to sound way more casual than I feel.
She snorts. "Not him either. She made her choice, and she keeps making choices she thinks are best. But they aren't in the best interest of the clan.
They are what she thinks is best, even if none of us agree with her.
It's hard to explain, but it's not the first time she's gone off and done something Lune—or any of us, for that matter—wouldn't approve of.
Try not to take it too personally. We live a long time.
Too long to hold a grudge. She knows that, too, and eventually, she'll get over it. "
I can't imagine she'll get over being relegated to the kitchens with the fierce alpha rage wafting off of her, pointed in my direction. I can feel it from here, her scent bitter and sharp.
But Andrea doesn't look at me again, though I notice her head tilting toward us while Hilde and I talk. Even from there, I think she can hear us if she chooses to listen in.
I decide it doesn't matter. Not right now.
I spot Heather and Joey, and since I haven't seen her since I was in the hospital, Heather rushes over to hug me tight.
Joey hugs me too, wrapping his tiny arms around my leg, and he's just so fucking adorable.
She's taking him to school, then is off to the clinic, so we say a rushed goodbye after I promise I'll come and visit her soon.
It's amazing how strong an alpha really is—it's incomprehensible as a human that someone could possess so much power. But the cinnamon roll scent of my mate enters the kitchen, threaded with heavy, dominant alpha pheromones that have my mouth watering, and I nearly wobble in my chair.
He steps into the kitchen like a man in charge, and this isn't even his domain. But the whole room stands at attention. I watch him glance around until his eyes pin on me. I can't help but shiver as his green eyes darken and he takes deliberate steps toward me.
Dammit, there's something really hot about that, the way he moves toward me with such confidence. He's a little annoyed with me too, and for some insane reason, I find that thrilling.
He's a giant of a man who doesn't just walk—he stalks, his thick, tree-trunk thighs marking each step as he walks over to me. I can't help it, I glance down. He's not hard, but I can still see the thick outline of his cock through his jeans. It's obscene, really.
Too big. He's too big.
He'd never fit.
My core clenches, a strange ache in my pussy when I think about trying to make him fit.
I'm angry with him, I have to remind myself.
Are you sure? Beep snorts.
"Fuck off," I mumble under my breath. Then I remember Hilde is still standing beside me, and a single eyebrow arches. "Sorry. Not you."
She laughs, then leaves me to finish prepping for breakfast. So I'm alone when Grayson finally joins me.
He's the worst. He accused me of being spelled by the witches to infiltrate his clan. He's overbearing and an asshole.
He's…
Really fucking hot.
He stops directly in front of me. "Thought you'd get out of it?" He cocks his head to one side.
"I didn't think you were serious," I lie.
"I said you will train with me tomorrow. It's tomorrow. Have you eaten?"
I glance at my plate. I ate, though Hilde keeps refilling it. I nod, which apparently is permission enough for Grayson to steal a strip of meat off my plate. He looks around the room as he chews, pausing on Andrea before flicking his gaze back to me.
He licks his lips before stealing a biscuit, and I can't tear my eyes away. What would that feel like? His lips, his mouth on my skin. His jaw slows and his light green eyes narrow on me. And the fucker smiles.
I clear my throat. "So, training. You gonna make me lift big-ass tires, too?"
"No. Though we'll get to that." His fingers wrap around my bicep and squeeze. Reflexively, I flinch, and he chuckles. "My team is plotting a trail in the woods as we speak. You'll run toward West Creek, though not that far, then make your way back toward home."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
His smile is serpentine, and I don't like it one bit. Nope. Not the way his lips lift just enough to see his incisors. I swear they gleam in the light.
And now I can't stop picturing them scraping along my skin.
He's just too much. I have never been attracted to giant men before. But standing next to him, it feels impossibly safe and dangerous. He could crush me with one hand. His fingers span nearly my entire head. He could pick me up and throw me around and do all sorts of wicked things.
My omega literally whimpers with need.
This fucker still owes me an apology, I remind her.
I swallow and force myself to face the room instead of him.
Andrea's watching us with an odd expression on her face. She looks away before Grayson notices. Hilde returns, gushing over him like he's her favorite son, shoving a new plate piled high into his hands.
"Here, you need more food. The course will be ready when we're done with breakfast," he says, pushing my plate aside.
I don't need more, but I take the out and cram another biscuit in my mouth as he takes a seat beside me.
Just like every other argument we've had since we met, I wonder what happens when this tension between us finally implodes.