Wolf Blood

|8| Spice, the will to flavor

The next day, I woke to the first rays of dawn streaking through my window —and bursts of impatient knocking at my door. "Rise and shine, Mutt." I cursed Javed from under my blanket.

About half an hour later, I stood in the foyer with Javed, struggling to keep my burning eyes open. "So you'll be staying here at the main house for now under —you can call it probation or prison, whichever you prefer— until Alpha decides otherwise. The question now is what can you do? Say nothing and make my day." He flashed a wide, toothy smile that was anything but friendly.

I narrowed my eyes. "What exactly is your problem with me?"

He shrugged, his expression turning serious in a heartbeat. "Everything. Particularly your heritage. It has a pungent stink that I can't ignore."

I recoiled instinctively. The question running through my mind —"How did he know?"

"Lost Moon has always had that particular stink." His lip curled in disgust, his eyes held contempt. I almost whooped. He didn't know who I was; it was Lost Moon he hated. I was unsure of the reason however, and I doubted he would give me a straight answer if I asked. I didn't want to give him the idea that I was in any way still attached to Lost Moon either. My gut told me that Javed would use anything against me, and being the beta, he had the power to enforce. I needed to be careful.

I shook my head. "In answer to your question, I cooked in Lost Moon." That wasn't technically a lie.

He raised an eyebrow and snorted. "Is that right? What, was your cooking so atrocious that your Alpha wants to kill you now?"

I folded my arms and waited for him to grow up. He snorted again and said, "Kitchen duty it is."

He led me through a pair of double doors in the foyer to a large dining room and then through a small door that led into a wide, clean kitchen. "Desiree, meet your new disciple." Javed gestured for me to get moving. I heaved a sigh.

Desiree, a graying, hawk-eyed woman, watched me suspiciously with that familiar look of distaste. I grew more defensive as every second ticked by. "Are you done?" I snapped.

She shoved a cutting board and some vegetables in front of me. "Cut these," she ordered. There were two other girls in the kitchen —deathly quiet— as they went about their chores. I stood opposite the first, cutting my vegetables, and got a good look at her face. It was Melanie! Finally, someone who didn't hate me. She met my eyes and flashed a quick smile before glancing at Desiree worriedly. Melanie didn't like her either apparently.

By the time breakfast was done, I thought my soul was oozing out. By lunch, I'm pretty sure it had already left me and I was just an empty shell. The kitchen was depressing. Cooking was supposed to be fun, not dull.

With the amount of mouths to feed in the Pack House, the kitchen was always working. Unfortunately, Desiree's menu left something to be desired in meals. If there was one thing I could admire though, was that she was meticulous about keeping the kitchen clean and her maintaining her garden.

At around five that afternoon, dinner was done and Jessamy popped in. "Hey! How's the first day going?"

I grimaced and sent a murderous look Desiree's way. Jessamy giggled and ambled over. "So I figured we could go shopping. Mel you want to come?" The girl's face brightened.

"But I don't have any money," I realized.

Jessamy waved that away. "Money is no issue."

She borrowed her brother's pick-up truck and we headed out. "Ugh, I thought it would never end." Melanie pouted. I shared her sentiments.