USELESS?

6

We make our way to the kitchen, holding hands, my body still humming from the shower with Anthony. He pulls out a stool at the kitchen island, and leads me to it, helping me sit, and pushing the stool in. Walking around the island to the refrigerator, he turns to me.

"What would you like, my love?" He asks. "Anything you would like."

I stand up, and rush to him, "I'm so sorry, what am I thinking? You sit down." I say. "I know my duty as your mate is to see to your needs before my own."

Anthony gives me a puzzled look as he leads me back to the stool I vacated. "What are you talking about, Hunter? It's my pleasure to cook for you. We are partners, equals. No one is more important to me than you, not even myself."

"B-but..." I stutter, "Pack law..."

He sighs. "Another ridiculous pack law?"

"A submissive's duty, once mated, is to see to the needs of their mate at all times. The submissive may only eat, sleep, or perform basic functions with the express permission of their mate." I carefully recite. "These laws were pounded into me every day, for as far back as I can remember."

Anthony growls. Forcing me to sit down on the stool again, he says, "Well, from now on you can forget every last damned one of them. If there's something you need or want, ask and it's yours. Now, I'm going to fix us breakfast, and we're going to share it, equally. Is there anything in particular you like?"

I lower my eyes, nervously, but Anthony gently places a finger under my chin, tilting my face up to look into his eyes. "No," I respond. "Anything is fine. I'm not used to much more than bread, fruit, and cheese."

Anthony growls again. He turns back to the refrigerator and pulls out a carton of eggs, a roll of sausage, and milk. Then, he reaches into the freezer and pulls out a package of what looks to be diced potatoes with onions and bell peppers. My mouth starts watering.

He pulls a pan from a cabinet and sets it on the stove. After turning the burner on, he puts the sausage in the pan and breaks it down into crumbles as it cooks. When it's nearly done, he adds the potato mixture to the pan, and continues cooking.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I ask quietly.

"If you really want to, love," He says, turning on the oven and reaching to take down a large bowl. "You can scramble the eggs. Add a little bit of milk to make them fluffier."

"I know," I tell him. "I did a lot of cooking, before."

I scramble the eggs, and pass him the bowl. He smiles at me lovingly, and takes a glass baking dish out of a cabinet. He sprays something in the dish, then pours the eggs into it, and sets it next to the stove. Once the sausage and potato mix is ready, he drains the grease from it, then carefully pours it into the eggs. After he stirs everything together, he places the dish in the oven, and sets a timer.

Coming around the island, he turns me to face him, and places himself between my knees. He gently cups my face in his hands, lowers his face to mine, and kisses me deeply. When we're both out of breath, he pulls away, my lips following greedily, reclaiming his for another kiss, and another. The room around us falls away, as we fall into our own little world, made up of just him and me.

A throat is cleared behind us, and I jump, pressing my face into Anthony's chest, before turning to see who interrupted us. My heart starts pounding erratically, and I begin trembling as I take in the tall man with a deep tan, dark brown hair and hazel eyes standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He looks so much like Dale, I can't help my reaction as I flinch away, pressing myself tightly into Anthony's embrace.

"Hunter, this is my Beta, Jeremiah. Jer, meet my Mate, Hunter." Anthony says, introducing us.

"Your mate?" Jeremiah replies, "You lucky bastard," he adds, smiling at me gently.

"Hunter is the one the Goddess sent us to rescue from that rogue group." Anthony tells him. "He's a Guardian."

Jeremiah's eyes widen in shock. "A Guardian?" He stutters, "I thought those were just legend."

"Ummm...Anthony?" I ask, "What's a Guardian?"

They both turn to me, wide eyed. "A Guardian is a rare wolf, born of a noble bloodline, a creature of legendary beauty and strength." Anthony begins, "A Guardian is so rare, no one alive has even seen one until now. The books say that a pup destined to be a Guardian will be born with an angel-wing birthmark. The larger the mark, the more powerful the Guardian. They are to be protected at all costs."

"You rescued him from those rogues?" Asks Jeremiah, and Anthony just nods. "That's ironic."

Curious, I ask, "why?"

"Because, beautiful," Jeremiah says, "Legend states that a powerful Guardian is destined to be the end of rogues' destruction." He turns to Anthony and asks "no offense, Alpha, but have you seen his mark?"

Anthony just nods. "Not just one wing. A pair of them, and they cover most of his back."

Jeremiah pales. "Holy shit."

"And his wolf is pure silver, with a wing that matches his on each of it's sides" Anthony finishes.

At this, Jeremiah drops to one knee, bowing his head. "Forgive me, most powerful of Guardians" he says to me.

I stammer, embarrassed by his entreaty. "Please, stand up. I'm nothing special, just a useless, backwards werewolf with no family."

Anthony glares at me. "You're not useless, I'm your family and I always will be, and we WILL find yours. We'll put the call out to the highest-ranked packs. I'm surprised they kept your disappearance under wraps for-how long were you with those rogues?" He asks.

His jaw drops as I answer, "for as long as I can remember. Alpha Todd told me I was born in their pack, but that my mother died in childbirth and my father killed himself in grief."

"Well, he lied." Anthony assures me. "Seems like his version of your life is about as useless as those 'pack laws' he taught you."