Page 19

A lina

Monday morning comes with startling, unpleasant clarity. I should welcome the feeling, but it’s too jarring.

It’s been a confusing weekend.

From the conversation with Zahra on Friday afternoon that turned into an unexpected confrontation and argument with Rowan…and then later that night turned into something I’ve been trying really hard not to think about too hard.

That dream. And then what happened on the rooftop…

The way I wanted to pull him into my bedroom and feel every inch of his skin against mine.

It was nothing. It was just the wolf within, my instincts kicking into overdrive because I was ovulating or something stupid like that.

And that’s exactly what I say to Zahra when I begin my Monday shift at The Diner. She came in as soon as we opened, demanding a fresh cup of coffee and a thorough explanation of what happened after she left my house on Friday afternoon.

“You can’t separate the wolf from the human,” Zahra lectures me quietly. “You are both wolf and human. That’s what a shifter is. You can’t blame one half of yourself for the actions and desires of the other.”

“Watch me,” I deadpan.

Old Betty and Old Joe are eating breakfast at the other end of the bar, too absorbed in their own conversation to pay much attention to us. The bar doesn’t actually start serving alcohol until afternoon, of course, so I’ve been keeping myself busy serving coffee to the few patrons.

“You would have slept with him, though,” Zahra says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Keep your voice down!” I hiss. “I’m at work.”

“Oh, whatever. You absolutely would have taken a ride on the pretty Alpha prince if the post-nut clarity didn’t have bad timing.”

“‘Pretty Alpha prince’?”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, it’s just big talk for someone who was cursing him out and then bowing her head to him when he started growling.”

Zahra glares at me. I cringe, offering her an apologetic smile.

It was natural for her to respond to Rowan’s anger like that.

Her natural position in a pack is much lower than mine, given that I was apparently Fated to become an Alpha’s Mate.

Lowering her eyes and bowing her head are not only instinctive, but an important and precious part of her identity.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“It’s okay, Lina. Obviously. It’s just—I mean, yeah, I talked a big game when I was ranting about that stupid prophecy you mentioned, but as soon as he was there in the same room as you, I felt the shift. There’s a serious connection between you two.”

“Yeah, it’s called a Mating bond.”

“It’s more than that. There are tons of mated pairs in West Pond, but I don’t get goosebumps from standing near them. The hairs on my arms don’t stand on end from the tension caused by their proximity.”

“Well, it’s probably just because the bond was rejected and is trying to become un-rejected. Or whatever.”

“Or you’re both extremely powerful shifters in your own right, and even the universe itself recognizes it. ”

I huff in annoyance. “You’re being way too dramatic for a Monday morning.”

“Whatever. So, what happened after you and Rowan picked Noah up from his slumber party?”

“Not a whole lot. Rowan looked after Noah while I ran errands and picked up groceries. I think Noah tried to teach him how to draw.” I shrug. “And then Rowan was in Greenbriar territory for most of Sunday.”

“But he slept at your house every night?”

“In the driveway. In his truck.”

“At least let him take the couch or something, Lina.”

“That’s a slippery slope.”

Zahra snorts. “Well, he already knows all about your slippery slope, girl.”

“Ew! God, Z.”

She takes a sip of coffee, then slowly becomes more serious. “By the way, I passed along what Rowan said about the Whiterose shifter who is apparently messing around with Blackburns in their territory.”

My stomach drops. I had wanted to forget about that detail. I wanted to forget about all of it. Life would be easier if we could go back in time to before the Blackburns started causing trouble.

Honestly, life would be easier if Samson Blackburn would just keel over and die.

“Yeah?” I prompt Zahra.

She leans in, lowering her voice further. “I told one of Henry’s Betas. He said he’d look into it. It’s not really my place to ask for further information on what that means, but…I did my best.”

I shrug. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

“Unlikely. It’s never nothing with the Blackburns.” Zahra knocks back the rest of her coffee. “Anyway, I have to go. I’ll see you later?”

“See you.”

When Zahra leaves, I’m left without much to do to occupy myself. The Diner is understandably slow on Monday mornings, and Caitlyn doesn’t really need my help with the waitressing duties. I end up idling behind the bar, polishing glasses that are already spotless .

My mind drifts back to thoughts of Rowan, as it is wont to do these days.

Although I loathe to admit it, what happened on the roof changed everything for me.

Or, at least, it changed some things. It made me realize that, even though I already knew that I’m physically drawn to Rowan thanks to the Mating bond, there is also an aspect of that attraction that is purely human.

After all, Rowan is incredibly handsome. He also knows exactly how to touch me. Plus, when he does touch me, it’s like he has a one-track mind. My pleasure is his priority.

He’s very…generous.

And I like that.

Also, now that I’m getting to know him as the man he’s grown into, rather than the boy he used to be, I can appreciate how wise and responsible he’s become. He’s so sure of himself now.

He’s learned the hard way that there can be consequences when rash decisions are made.

Deep down, I really do wish things were different. I wish Kseniya had never opened her big, ancient mouth. I wish prophecies were fake bullshit. I wish she’d been wrong at least once or twice before, just to increase my chances that this whole thing might not end in disaster.

But things won’t change. Despite Rowan’s little pep talk about how the Greenbriars don’t actually hate me, I know that they’d prefer I stay away from him.

And someday, Rowan will ascend to Alpha with a capital A. He’ll lead the pack, like he’s been destined to from birth.

Then Noah will start maturing and need to be taken under Rowan’s wing to train for his future as a leader of the Greenbriars…but only if that’s what my son actually wants. The moment he tells me he doesn’t want that life, I’ll take him somewhere far away.

I know he’ll want it, though. It’s in his blood.

Either way, my place will always be on the sidelines. The rejected Luna, confined to the periphery. There are other elders who can easily replace the maternal needs in Noah’s life, too, so there might even come a day when he won’t need me, either.

I’m useless .

But I still have a job to do and bills to pay.

“Hey, Alina?”

As if on cue, I hear our manager, Tim, calling my name from inside the kitchen.

I poke my head around the corner of the open doorway. “Yeah?”

“Dane called out,” he tells me. “Stomach flu.”

“Oh. Okay?” I’m not really sure what that has to do with me. Dane wears many hats, as Omegas tend to do. Handyman, line cook, busboy. He’s only twenty, though, so he’s too young to be a bartender, and thus our roles don’t really overlap here at The Diner.

Tim sighs. “I was going to have him pick up some stock we ordered from Sweet Kettle Farm out on Whitten Road. Eggs and milk and whatnot.”

“Okay…” I still don’t understand.

“And it’s ten in the morning,” Tim continues.

“Right.”

“And the bar won’t be selling drinks until this afternoon, at least.”

“As usual. What’s your point?”

Tim cringes. Honestly, he’s too much of a softie for a managerial position. He hates telling people what to do.

“Would you mind picking up the order for me?”

I furrow my brow. “You want me to drive out to Sweet Kettle Farm?”

It’s about twenty miles west. Extremely close to the Whiterose-Blackburn border.

But it’s also broad daylight and, again, I’m sure that Rowan is just being extremely melodramatic about what he allegedly witnessed during his patrol.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Tim says. “It’d be a huge help to me. The bar will be fine. I’d do it myself, but I’ve got to deal with some payroll bullshit. We got that new software, remember? Can’t seem to puzzle through it, but payday is coming for y’all and—”

“It’s fine,” I cut in, as politely as I can manage. “Don’t worry about it.”

With a sigh of relief, Tim tosses me the keys to his pickup. I tug off my apron and chuck it behind the bar .

A few minutes later, I’m on the open road.

It’s a beautiful day outside. We’re having a false spring right on schedule now in early March. It’s warm and sunny, and even though everyone knows we’ll get another long period of chilly mist before real spring comes along, the good weather lifts my spirits.

It doesn’t make me optimistic enough to believe that everything will be totally okay, but it does make the weight on my shoulders feel a little lighter.

The back country roads are, as usual, fairly deserted. A couple of cars rumble along lazily behind me, but it’s just me and my thoughts in the cab of Tim’s dusty, rickety Ford.

Noah is safe and happy in school right now, and Rowan is God-knows-where. I should relish the solitude and appreciate it for what it’s worth, but there’s a weird prickling sensation on the back of my neck. Almost like I’m being watched.

Except, one glance in the rearview mirror tells me there’s nobody else for miles.

But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not as alone as it seems. Not even when I pull into the main driveway of Sweet Kettle Farm and there isn’t another soul in sight.

I kill the engine and peer out the window at the big, old barn stationed at the mouth of the drive. It’s huge and a little dilapidated, with a rotting roof that’s sinking in the middle. The little sign that reads Eggs-Milk-Butter swings lazily in the pleasant breeze.

Nobody comes out to greet me, but maybe Tim forgot to let them know that I’d be stopping by today instead of Dane.

I hop out of the truck and wander toward the barn. The massive doors are hanging open, and it looks brightly lit inside, so I make my way in and hope to find a staff member experiencing as slow of a Monday morning as I was back in town.

Except the barn is empty. Nothing is there but hay and stacks of boxes, and a couple of stray chickens pecking about. There’s no sign of the supplies that I’ve been sent to collect for The Diner.

“Hello?” I call out.

No answer.

I wander further into the barn .

“Is anyone here?”

Still no answer.

My neck prickles again.

There’s a shuffle of footsteps behind me, but before I can turn around, something strikes me on the side of the head.