Just five minutes left, and my fudge caramel brownies with white chocolate chips would be done! The smell was heavenly, filling every corner of the kitchen with a warm, sweet aroma.
Two weeks had gone by since the alliance started forming. Many of Declan's allies had committed to helping us eradicate the rogue clan. Because the clan had been clearly targeting us, allies had even sent scouts to patrol the pack's borders, keeping watch for any trouble. Rogue activity had lessened significantly since the patrols began, though whether that was good or bad, we didn't know yet.
With the extra security, I'd been able to focus on baking again, and surprisingly, I was starting to feel a twinge of interest in the Luna title. Just a little.
A surprising number of pack members stopped by to try my treats. Teachers would swing by, along with the guards and scouts, and even Joshua came by every day, dramatically claiming I was "making him fat." And yet, he was always the first to beg for a treat. Declan had explained that people were starting to see me as their Luna, seeking my guidance and comfort, and that maybe without realizing it, I was already giving it.
Charlotte, meanwhile, had made it clear to Declan she wasn't going to be a second wife or an alternate choice. She'd told him to figure things out. But others in the pack were angry, divided; many still distrusted me. I understood that—I felt the same doubts about myself sometimes.
But whenever I saw Declan, everything in me hummed with energy, and somehow, it didn't feel so strange when Joshua started calling me Luna. I wasn't entirely sure if I was ready for that title, though Abel, sensing my hesitation, still just called me "Lucy." Joshua, however, seemed more and more protective, sticking close. Betas are often intensely protective of their Lunas, and in some ways, their loyalty to the Luna can even surpass that to the Alpha. Joshua's loyalty seemed to be growing stronger toward me every day.
As for Alani, she was determined to get Charlotte to agree to a mating contract with Declan. Alani had even suggested I could be a "side consort." Yes, consort! I had immediately shot down that idea. I wasn't a consort. But I wasn't entirely certain I was a Luna, either. This instinctual urge to protect and nurture the pack was throwing me off. Still, the more I denied it, the more I felt myself drawn into that role.
When a young female guard came to me, anxious about leaving her children with her mate, I'd comforted her with a warm cupcake and some advice. She'd walked away smiling, clearly comforted. I didn't know what had come over me; I'd just wanted to help. And it felt... natural. Strangely right.
Even stranger was how much I enjoyed it. I hadn't expected to find so much joy in people stopping by for the treats I'd made and sharing little moments with them. Their appreciation made me want to bake even more. Of course, I always set aside a portion for Declan, delivering it to his office as part of our new routine. And each time, I'd receive his own special form of thanks, which always made my heart pound and my wolf stir with excitement.
Sam had been doing much better, too. His medication was working, and while he might not fully return to his old self, he was able to live a reasonably normal life. Belle, though, had started to withdraw, spending less time with us. She still joined us at breakfast and dinner, but she was distant. I wasn't sure what to make of it.
For now, though, my only concern was bringing Declan his hot, fresh brownies. I knew how much he loved them, and I could feel my wolf's eagerness to see him, practically wagging her invisible tail.
I tried to keep my excitement in check as I approached his office. Usually, I waited until later in the day to visit, but this time, I thought I'd surprise him a little early.
As I neared the door, though, I heard his voice—talking about me. I froze, uncertain whether to enter or listen. His tone was firm.
"Lucille isn't ready for that," he was saying. "I've told you plenty of times."
YOU ARE READING
Heart of a rogue
WerewolfThe caged bird sings with a fearful trill, of things unknown, but longed for still. And her tune is heard on the distant hill, for the caged bird sings for freedom. His lips hovered just above mine, close enough to make my senses blur. All I could t...