MARKED | COMPLETED

Chapter 18

As it turned out, Aisling knew how to handle most gardening tools. He favored a pickaxe, hacking away at the earth with a look that was halfway between angry and determined, while I handed out canteens with fresh water to the workers.

I would look up from time to time to find many of the women watching him work, with Shaun alongside him with a gardening hoe in hand. Every once in a while, a tiny smirk would settle onto Shaun's features as he gave a quick glance to Aisling, amused that the man who'd never worked in the fields was finally doing so. It was even funnier when the smirk vanished when he caught me looking.

But Aisling never once made an effort to complain. While he ranted on the way up to the fields, Aisling became quiet when the woman in charge, an elderly woman by the name of Echo pointed to a large pile of tools and told him simply to get to work. He did so without complaint, and quickly grabbed the pickaxe he currently held in hand.

I assumed it was because we were all taught at such a young age to respect our elders; or because she might look old, but she was still as strong, if not stronger, than Aisling. She could have taken him down if she tried, and he probably knew it.

She soon rang the whistle for a break, and I'd never seen Aisling drop his tool so quickly before. He reached me in a few long strides and stole the only canteen I had left: my own. I didn't bother saying anything as he swallowed down nearly the whole thing.

Once finished, he handed me the empty canteen.

"An Alpha doesn't have to do this," he chided.

Not even two seconds into his break and already he's begun to complain. I shouldn't be the least bit surprised about this.

"You have to lead by example. If you don't do the work and contribute to this pack they'll think you don't care."

"I care," he mumbled.

"I know you do."

I couldn't help but chortle at the thought; all Aisling needed was a pouting lip and one singular stomp to the ground and he would look a lot like a spoiled child being told to clean his room. It would have been a sight to behold, but instead, he brushed past me in a huff toward the others.

To think that it was just a few short days ago that I woke him up in the middle of the night with this idea. I reminisced quietly to myself how angry it made Aisling that he had to move out of his sizeable home into a three bedroom apartment in the living quarters. I understood that he was the Alpha of the pack and that he needed the space to do his duties, but—the Alpha's cabin spoiled him too much.

He was too privy to luxury that he'd forgotten that you had to work for everything you owned.

Everyone had their jobs, and everyone had to pitch in. If Aisling wanted warm clothes and rations, all he had to do was walk into the local kitchen and grab what he wanted to eat. If Mrs. Buckley ever caught me doing that, before I learned about my title, I would have lost at least three fingers because of it.

Aisling lived a privileged life; now it was time to prove that he was willing to put in the effort.

"This was your idea."

"I'm well aware."

"What should I do now?" he asked begrudgingly as if it amused me to watch him do manual labor.

He was right.

I shrugged. "That isn't up to me. Wherever Echo wants you to go, you go."

He growled under his breath and I swore I caught Echo looking in his direction. That would amuse me even more if he got in trouble; he was so above the law, I wondered if he ever had the displeasure of being scolded, or worse—grounded. While I spent most days listening to the lectures of Shaun, he probably watched from the cabin with a smirk, knowing that he'd never have to endure.