I'm not one to fall back asleep, so this is it for me. I wait in bed for a few minutes, trying to figure out where I am before getting up.
The sun is already high in the sky, but I can tell it hasn't been there very long. I look around my bedroom, feeling a draft coming from the open window.
This holds my attention for a few seconds before yawning and stretching. Finally, I get out of bed.
My body is a little stiff, but I'm used to this sort of thing at my age. I may only be middle-aged, but that's more than enough. If I was human, I doubt I'd be able to jump out of bed as easily as someone like Leena.
The second she enters my mind, I realize we haven't seen each other in quite some time. Our first official day together at the pack house involved a lot less communication than I expected. Hopefully, today will be much different.
“Maybe they're right,” I yawn. “Going to sleep at four in the morning may not be the best thing for me.”
I shake my head before going to the sink to brush my teeth, followed by a quick shower to wash off the grit and grime. By the time I step out, I feel refreshed and more like myself again.
I walk out of the bedroom, half expecting to be greeted with the sound of snoring. Instead, I hear nothing at all. I knock on Leena’s door, even though I'm pretty sure she isn't there.
She must be downstairs.
My stomach growls, but it knows by now that I'm the one in charge. The fact that I have some control over my hunger urges is something I abuse far too much.
I take the stairs two at a time, landing heavily on the sturdy steps. About halfway, my nose jumps into another gear, fed by a delicious scent. “What the hell is going on?”
I finish my journey downstairs, walking into the kitchen like it's on fire.
There's a feast waiting for me on the kitchen island, complete with eggs, bacon, sausages, and pancakes. I stare at the mountain of food in awe. It draws me in, and I don't even try to resist.
I start scarfing down the meal. A great thing about being the alpha is knowing that I can eat anything in my home without asking first.
“Molly didn't make this,” I muse, taking yet another sausage into my mouth. “Why isthis so good?”
Molly's cooking is great, of course, it's why she's the chef in the first place. However, this is different and much better.
I'd never admit it out loud because I'm not about to try and go against the resident chef. However, there's no denying how good this food tastes.
I pick up on something else—the scent of the recently turned shifter coming from outside.
I carry another plate of pancakes and head out the door, meeting the fresh air waiting outside. It doesn't take long for me to spot Leena. She's sitting on a log, looking toward the woods.
I wonder what's going on in her head.
Leena is such a special case. Most people who get turned have such a terrible time adjusting, especially when they have to stay in a pack house.
From what I've been told, Leena has never had much of a social media presence. She seems like a loner, almost fighting against the urge to be in a pack.
Now that she has us, I would've assumed this transition would've been easier. Still, she's clearly having such a miserable time, and I'm sure most of that is because she can't be as close to her family as before.
I appear at her side, still holding my plate of pancakes. “It's a gorgeous view.”
Leena stiffens and turns around. “Oh, hey. Good morning.”
I watch the dark-haired girl with a slightly amused expression. Her eyes glance in my direction before looking back at her previous point of interest.
“Are you scared of me?” I inquire.
“I'm not sure how to answer that.”
I slowly nod before sitting on the log beside her. Leena doesn't move, but she stiffens again, very noticeably. “Thank you for the food.”
She also looks like she doesn't know how to react to that. “You don't have to thank me. I enjoyed making it.”
