What is Love, Alpha?

Chapter 14

Ta-da...

XD

Chapter 14

            It was a few days later, early in the morning, and I was attempting to creep down the main stairs. They didn’t groan or whine under my light weight, something I was grateful for. I didn’t have much practice with sneaking around, but I was determined to try. The house had a tired chill to it, the steps cold beneath my bare feet. It was unusual for a house that was so filled with people to be so silent; I tried not to let it unsettle me.

            I lightly sprinted towards the kitchen, thankful for the joys of the carpet that led from the bottom of the stairs into the kitchen. My eyes darted around as I moved, keeping a lookout for any other pack members, not wanting my surprise to be ruined. At the same time, as I stepped into the kitchen, I frowned at my own thought.

            On the lookout for other pack members? I internally scoffed sadly at this. I wasn’t a part of the pack. I was temporary… at least I thought.      

            Externally this time, I groaned. “Only five in the morning and I’m already overthinking everything,” I muttered quietly to myself. Shaking my head, I stopped in front of the stove, staring it down as I thought. I was on a mission; a mission to make Anton breakfast, and fast. I wanted to be able to make it, clean it up, and hide the evidence before the rest of the pack awoke and wanted food.

            Cooking for one was going to be a challenge in itself.

            But it was something I wanted to do. The idea had been set in my mind ever since I had attempted to do so with Anna, and the perfect opportunity had presented itself to me in the form of Anton’s late night. He had worked out extra late the night before, barley stumbling in around four. An hour earlier. I had gotten a few winks of sleep in between waiting for him and in the past hour.        

            All in all, I felt pretty energized and prepared. The day before, I had seen another member of the pack prepare breakfast, a kind lady only a few years older than myself named Breanna. It didn’t seem too complicated. I thought myself smart enough at least to figure it out. So, with a deep breath, I lightly opened the fridge.

            I quickly fished out all the ingredients for what Anton called an omelet, not wanting to push it with anything more. Frowning, I searched for the same pan Breanna had used the day before. Pursing my lips when I found it in the sink, I quickly washed it off and towel dried it, turning back to the stove. I choose the best fitting spot, setting down the pan and the towel behind it, and turned my attention to the dials on the stove, freezing when I noticed four of them.

            “How am I supposed to know which one?” I whispered, panicking lightly. I studied them, seeing how the two on my side sat one on top of the other. Guessing, I flipped on the top one, assuming it went the top was closest to me and the bottom was the one in the back. Just to check, I held out my hand, feeling heat already starting to radiate up.

With a satisfied nod, I turned to the counter behind me, chopping up onions and other things to put into the omelet, being very careful with the knife. After that, I started to crack the eggs into a bowl. I started to smell something and assumed it was the pan heating up. With a start, I realized I had forgotten to put some butter to melt in the pan. Grabbing a knife and the stick of butter I had already put out, I turned.