Lunaticus

19

"The emissary is coming tomorrow. For the routine check-up," The captain breathed out noisily, looking tired and determined all at once as she addressed everyone at the dinner table.

"I want y'all to get your bums up and clean this place like an antique china. There are already enough troublemakers spreading rumours about our pac- our... group. We don't want the alphas fearing us, or cutting off their protection, or their supplies."

That wasn't entirely true. The Alpha of the neighbouring packs gave us supplies, yes, but they took more in return. The raw material we gave them, the wood, the eggs, the cotton, was more than enough for the soap and furniture they gave us.

And as far as protection went, we all knew if hard times came, we would all be on our own. All of this was a pretence. Just because we weren't a proper pack, the other alpha's thought they could rule us around.

But nobody had the courage to speak out loud regarding this to the captain, least of all me. We knew she made the best decisions for us, no matter how much we doubted them sometimes.

So went to our gigs. In between the tasks, Lyell would sneak up behind me. Sometimes just a few whispered words, a hug from the back, a peck on the cheek. By the time night neared, I wasn't even tired from cooking pots after pots of stews for the guests tomorrow.

"I wish we didn't have to hide," He gently tucked my sweaty strands behind my ear, knowing how easily my hair would flop out in no time. I think he was developing a certain liking for doing this.

"Soon," He took my palm in his and placed a gentle kiss.

"You are gonna kill me," I giggled. I actually giggled. "All the caramel in the world, and it will be your sweetness that will have me undone."

I laid a hand against his cheek and he leaned in. "I must taste good then. Perhaps you should spend more time kissing me."

I glanced around. The kitchen was empty. As far as I knew, no one was in this area of the house. Everyone had either gone to sleep or they were outside.

"You can't imagine..." His lips settled at the crook of my neck and I fisted his hair, feeling him bite the skin there. Restrain. So much restrain, "How fucking delicious you taste. Sometimes I feel like I'd just..."

"You'd just what?" I asked breathlessly, feeling his fingers dance underneath my shirt. There. Almost there.

"I'd lose myself into you, and never, ever come back." His mouth devours mine. I match his tongue stroke for stroke, pulling at his lower lip, sucking at his tongue. He groans and heaves me up, and I hook my knee around his hip.

Heat settled at my core. I felt him against me, and I smiled. "I don't want you to come back."

Oh god, I would never get over the feeling of him. The bony boy from his earlier days is gone. Working all day with wood and eating proper food has filled him in all the right places. My fingers trace the hard planes of his back, twisting at his silver-blonde hair to pull him closer.

He's fighting a battle he knows he will lose. Any second now-

"Ahem, ahem.

Evan stood, his arms crossed and his expression anything but pleasant. His glare was so feral I was surprised he wasn't drilling holes by it. I detangled myself from Lyell, feeling the awkwardness colour my cheeks.

"Some of us have to sleep around here," He gritted out, jaw clenched. "Take it to your bedroom. Yours is outside, silver boy."

He didn't pause when I called him out, leaving us alone in the hallway. I sighed. It wasn't his fault. We should have been more careful.

"Someone's got a rooster in his pants," Lyell smirked, enjoying himself. "He's so jealous, I bet he has a picture of me pinned to the wall that he enjoys throwing daggers at."

"He's just concerned."

"Sure, if concerned translates to being jelly in your language."

I jabbed him on the bicep, but it wasn't enough to wipe away his grin.

"He's such a girl. Bet you ten he would tell everyone at the table tomorrow what happened tonight."

I started back to my room, "No he won't. Evan isn't like that."

"If I win what do I get?"

I stopped and swivelled on one heel. I gave him the sweetest smile I could muster and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

By the time I pulled back, even the tip of his nose was pink.

"Someone's got a rooster in their pants," I winked, then walked out the door.

***

Come morning, all of us huddled around the porch and inside the main hallway to welcome the emissary. Last year it had been some pack from the West that had sent over their members. They had been satisfied enough that they had promised us patrol for the western borders, along with the thirty bushels of grapes that they had actually given up for free.

We didn't know why we should be nervous, but we were all nervous anyway. Everyone scorned us, delinquents and outcasts that were bordering on rogue. But the real reason was because they didn't want another competitor around. As long as no true Alpha ruled over us- and why would one?- we were no real threat to the big guys. They pretended we were all the same.

I heard the chorus, the noisy sound of shoes climbing up the stairs. It was too much for me. I made for the kitchen, busying myself with reheating the condiments and stew.

Minutes passed. Outside the window, I saw one of them- golden hair, tall stature- walking up the path. The same path that led to Lyell's shack. The door was shut. Lyell had been told to stay inside and away from us. Though it pained me, he had been told by the captain that if he cleared the inspection today he would be allowed to be inside the house.

The man gazed at the shack, tapping his chin in contemplation. I squinted, trying to make out his expression. Was he angry, disgusted? Or in awe that one man had built such a thing, no matter how destitute it looked?

"Well, hello there."

I hadn't realized how hard I had been gripping the window pane when the voice behind me made me twirl around. Immediately, colour gathered on my cheek.

They both stood by the threshold, arms crossed across their chest. One was tall, with a ginger beard and hair that had been slicked back. His sharp eyes accessed the kitchen, and I tried to see it through his eyes. Clean. Boring. Nothing to fret over.

His nostrils flared. "I almost thought I found my mate. Is that eclairs I smell?"

I nodded dumbly. He picked one from the tray on the counter and groaned.

I gauged the other man.

He looked...familiar. He too had a beard, straighter than his colleagues, and hair that fell back in wavy curls. Suddenly his eyes widened. Grey eyes stared at me in rapt attention.

Hey pretty girl, what you making today?

I gasped, stumbling back to the counter. The ginger man opened his eyes, a smile slowly taking over. "These are delicious. I have found true love, Marc."

Marc.

Marc Pastello. My best friend. My rapist.

Marc gathered a shuddering breath. "It seems so."