Alpha Hole

Ch. 19

As we walked down the cedar plank hallway, the smell of bacon set my mouth watering. The newness of my change hadn't truly sunk in yet, but there was a subtle undercurrent that hummed beneath each of my senses making my body taunt with unease.

It didn't help that I literally didn't know what the hell would happen next. I took a deep breath as I walked next to Jaxson. I'd get some coffee and breakfast in me and then I'd be able to think clearer. If only I could believe that.

As the food court came into view Jaxson turned to give me a fleeting glance that registered as I hope you're ready.

Towering wooden beams stretching up to the high ceiling and soft, warm lighting bathing the space in a cozy glow. The buffet tables, adorned with an array of mouthwatering dishes, looked like something out of a fancy magazine spread.

The scent of bacon frying and coffee brewing filled the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of spices and herbs. It was overwhelming, but in a strangely comforting way, like being wrapped in a cozy blanket on a cold day. Despite my nerves, I couldn't deny the beauty of the scene before me.

Groups of shifters

This place was full of people- young and old who chatted animatedly around the buffet tables, their laughter echoing off the wooden walls. They seemed so at ease, so comfortable. It was alive here. It was almost too much to take in.

A sense of apprehension gripped me as we navigated the sea of people. A few curious glances followed our progress, but for the most part, we went unnoticed amidst the bustling crowd.

However, not everyone was indifferent to our presence. A group of young males gawked openly as we passed, their eyes lingering on us with unabashed curiosity. And then there were the females, their cold glares cutting through the warmth of the room like icy daggers. I fought the urge to bristle under their scrutiny, my discomfort evident in the tension that coiled within me. I had to hold back the sound of displeasure that rumbled in my chest.

Jaxson, unfazed by the attention, guided me towards a booth already occupied by three young males and an auburn haired girl. Their interest felt more like an appraisal than genuine curiosity. Then, with a camaraderie that spoke of long-standing friendships, a smile broke across the face of one—a blonde male who I realized was staring right at the angry red mark in my collarbone.

"That $50 is mine," he declared, prompting groans from the others as they reluctantly handed over money. The transaction, seemingly trivial, was evidently the result of some bet that now found its conclusion in my presence.

"That's BS—and really messed up," Jaxson retorted, irritation clear in his tone as he addressed the situation with annoyance.

Jaxson's attention shifted to the red head. "Keep an eye on her while I make our plates."

She patted the spot next to her.  "I'm Jenna. Eric's mate," she introduced, nodding towards the male beside her, who offered a smile that sought to bridge the gap of any initial awkwardness. Jaxson seemingly happy with the arrangement turned and walked towards the buffet tables.

"That's Roan," she said as she nodded at guy next to her with messy brown hair. "and this asshat is Chris," Jenna continued, her tone light yet tinged with familiarity. Chris, the subject of her affectionate jab, merely raised a brow, a silent acknowledgment.

"I just tell it like it is." Chris said as he leaned back placing an arm over the shoulder of the booth. "I can't help that Jenn here is an overly sensitive she-wolf."

"Must be the hormones." Roan said playfully earning him a warning growl from Eric. 

"Easy Poppa." Jaxson said as he sat two enormous plates of food down, the largest one placed before me. 

"That's supposed to be mine?" I questioned, my gaze scanning the mountainous plate.

The fleeting look of surprise that crossed his face was quickly masked by an expression of understanding. "I didn't know what you wanted, so I got some of everything," he explained, a simple justification that hinted at a desire to please, to make amends for the turmoil that had enveloped us since my arrival.

"Just the coffee would have been fine," I responded, the sharpness in my tone like a jolt. "Maybe next time ask, but I'm not sure that my decisions mean anything to you."

At my remark, his eyes flared—an instant, visceral reaction that betrayed his attempt to maintain composure. Around us, the snickers of the guys added a layer of tension, a reminder of the audience to our private drama.

As I sipped the coffee he had brought me, the headache that was coming started to ease off. 

I sat perfectly still as Jaxson ate. He glanced at me every so often to see if I'd touched my food but I'd made up my mind.

Jenna looked at Jackson breaking the silence that had settled over the table.

"How about I take Jenna to Bonnie's to pick out some clothes after breakfast?"

"No," Jaxson said and Jenna recoiled as if his bad mood had taken her by surprise.

"Jax, she can't wear—" Jenna began, her attempt at reasoning cut short by Jaxson's sharp interjection.

"She wants to stay in the baggy sweats, so I'm simply honoring her decision." He looked from Jenna to me- challenge flairing in his eyes.

Jenna, sensing the delicate balance of power and pride at play, sighed in resignation as she tucked her auburn hair behind one ear. "Fine," she conceded, her disappointment momentarily overshadowed by a practical concern for my comfort. "You're about my height. Can you wear size 6?" she asked, turning her attention to me, her demeanor a blend of sympathy and solidarity.

I nodded, my response a quiet acknowledgment of her generosity. "And shoes?" she pressed on, determined to extend her offer of friendship despite the constraints placed upon us by Jaxson's mood.

"An 8," I replied, "but I-."

The words died on my tongue as I was about to say that I'd just get my stuff from my aunt's apartment. But would I?