Except he’s not there. I blink, searching the sloping meadow.
He’s left a deer on the stoop. My mouth hangs open when I realize it’s the same one I tracked and failed to take down on my own last night.
I scan the area again, wondering why he’d bother bringing me meat. Especially after he made it clear last night by rejecting me in front of the entire pack that he wanted nothing to do with me.
Hesitation stops me from kicking it off the porch to the ground. Meat’s hard enough for us to come by. I can’t afford to be picky about where it comes from just because I would rather ingest poison foxglove and chew on the rusty nails holding this place together before eating anything Caden provided me.
Good mate, my wolf pipes up. Provider.
I bare my teeth at nothing since she’s inside me. She’s wrong. I’m the one that provides for my sisters. I don’t need his charity handouts.
I don’t know what she’s in such a great mood over. By rejecting me, it means he rejects her, too. She gives a nasty yip, snapping her teeth. Whatever, she’s on her own to figure it out.
Still, I’m not turning down the offering. Meat is meat, and to get it I didn’t have to listen to vulgar suggestions about how I could earn an extra helping of food from pack males like Lorne and his brothers, Dane and Weston, trying to show off their superior rank to the cohorts that hang around them.
I just needed my fated mate to reject me, and then, I don’t know, feel guilty enough about it to leave me with this consolation prize. Sorry I don’t want you, the least I can do is offer you a meal. Asshole.
My lips thin into a line before I haul the carcass into my arms, mildly appeased by the fact I’m strong enough to do it now.
Once I take care of the deer, I grab my clipping shears and a basket before strolling the rows of my herb garden. I reach the candleflower, glad it’s still in bloom thanks to the tricks Jade the traveling witch taught me to make my herbs last past their blooming seasons in the high altitude of Silver Mountain. This will help soothe Lena’s coughing and hopefully open her lungs.
Beatrix is up when I come back inside. She prods at the oatmeal with a wooden spoon.
“Do you ever get tired of oatmeal? I’d much rather have bacon.”
“It’s good for you.” I pull her hair from her sleep-mussed braid and redo it for her. She allows it, swatting me off only when I fuss with the ends. “They don’t serve anything this packed with nutrients down in the dining hall. Only greasy bacon, eggs, and sugared cornbread.”
She mumbles a complaint, rubbing her stomach. “But it’s bacon.”
My lips twitch. “Fine. I’ll snag you some if Alma has any left. I have to go down there to talk to her. Make sure Lena finishes the whole teapot, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Thanks.”
She snatches my hand before I move away, pulling me back in with a curious sniff. “You smell different. Wait, no, not different. More you, but also something else.”
My stomach clenches, worried her stronger nose can pick up remnants of Caden from when he had me in his arms before he shoved me away.
“I shifted,” I explain. “I’m not sure how it happened so late, but I have a wolf. Is that what you smell?”
“Avery!” Her eyes widen and she throws her arms around me. “This is amazing. What was it like? Is she beautiful? Tell me everything.”
“Later,” I say with a laugh.
I lay out the candleflower on my workbench and make quick work of stripping the yellow blooms to brew in tea, the leaves that are still perky with life to make a syrup with, and save the stalks to dry out by hanging them from the rafters overhead with the rest of my dried herbal collection. When I’m finished, I set it aside and mix up a paste for Alma’s arthritis.
The routine brings a moment of normalcy to ground me. Lena and Beatrix chat softly while I work, sharing a bowl of oatmeal. It allows me to push down the ever-present ache in my chest until it’s bearable. I don’t know how long it takes for a rejected bond to fade since there’s no one in recent memory in our pack to compare this experience with, but I hope it’s soon.
I give both of my sisters a kiss on the head before leaving for the commons. The dining pavilion is packed outside the hall. Small pups chase each other between the outdoor seating and two stone fireplaces with excited squeals, much to their tired dams’ annoyance as they call after them to come eat. Fresh brewed coffee and the delectable scent of bacon makes my mouth water.
For a moment, I’m struck by a pang of longing to be part of the laughter over shared baskets of steaming cornbread and platters of fried eggs.
Shaking it off, I bypass the doors between the fireplaces that lead inside to head around back. The kitchen is bustling with the morning rush for breakfast by the time I poke my head in.
Alma’s barking orders while mixing the next batch of cornbread batter. I hurry over with a full pitch prepared, only to be cut off by her before I open my mouth.
“Oh! Good, you’re here,” she says.
“Uh, yes?”
Is she psychic in her old age, too? She’d better watch it, or the pack will start calling her the next witchling. I fight to keep a smirk off my face.
She waves me off. “Well, don’t just stand there, pup. I need someone on bacon at the far burner. Don’t gape at me, go before it burns.”
I open and close my mouth, brows pinched. I want to point out to her that I haven’t been a kid in a long time, but she’s dismissed me, groaning when she bends to load a pan of batter into the oven.
“Welcome to kitchen duty,” Taryn says as I pass her.
“What?”
“I know. It sucks the most, definitely more than maintenance or laundry. At least on those rotations you get breaks. The kitchens are grueling work.” She frowns, waving a spatula. “Liam knows I hate cooking because it’s so much standing around waiting, so naturally I get assigned here every time I’m caught. That uptight bastard thinks it’s funny.”
I shake my head. “I’m still not following. Why does Alma think I’m also here to work?”
“You didn’t see the new rotations posted this morning at Alpha Blackburn’s lodge? You’re on it.”
“Great.” Air gusts from my lungs.
Caden can take that deer and shove it up his perfectly toned ass. This is yet another way for him to punish me for things that aren’t my fault. I didn’t pick for us to be fated anymore than he did.
I’m usually left off the shared job duties. In the first few months of Caden’s reign after Alpha Dempsey passed away, every job I was put on ended up causing a disruption because people either didn’t want to be around me or they got aggressive to assert their dominant rank over me so I’d known my place was at the bottom of the hierarchy. I didn’t dare go to Caden to tell him how the workloads were dumped on me or that I never received my cut of payment. Eventually, my name stopped appearing on the roster.
“Enough yapping, get to work or you’ll be explaining to Alpha Blackburn why breakfast is delayed,” Alma grouses.
I sigh, taking over the abandoned pan of sizzling bacon. When the rush slows down, I’ll talk to Alma about the honey I want. Taryn chats my ear off. Despite being one of the few packmates to remain friendly, it’s more than she’s spoken to me in seven years. I don’t hate it.
“You’re burning that,” I point out.
She spares the charring eggs an uninterested glance. “Feed them to Tobin. He’ll eat anything.”
“Can I just—?” I take her spatula and scrape the well-done eggs into a serving dish.
Unlike times in the past where it was clear all the work was being forced on me, this isn’t so bad. She’s still helping, I just take over when she loses track of the task.