“Many thanks,” I answer, trying not to sound sarcastic. “Make sure the children have plenty to eat first—and the elder folk over there.”
“Of course!” Melanie gushes, squeezing my arm. “That’s Jethro, Chris, and Agatha. I’ll go over and get them right now. We take good care of our elders here.”
“Commendable,” I reply, sitting down.
Sara sits down next to me, and when I look over at her, the pale sunlight is flickering across her face, making the gold in her dark eyes glimmer. She smiles at me, and it’s a radiant expression of joy. I can’t help but smile back, and she tilts her head towards me and squeezes my hand.
The affection feels good, but I know that she can’t have had such a massive change of heart in the last hour, and the exchange leaves a bad feeling hovering in my guts.
“Try this wine,” Jackson says, pouring me a glass of red. “It’s from my private stock.”
I swirl the glass a little, then take a sip. My suspicions shoot up sharply. There’s no way this is made in town.
Haven’t seen a single grape here, for a start, but I’m pretty sure I recognize this brand.
“Meet my friend, Henry,” Jackson says, gesturing across the table.
“Henry Morrow,” says a middle-aged man with gray-streaked dark hair. He rises to shake my hand briefly. “It’s good to meet you, Alpha Shawn.”
“Please, everyone, just call me Shawn,” I say. “Now—Morrow? Sara tells me you have cows?”
“A few, yes,” he answers proudly. “We produce milk and beef for the whole town. My wife personally makes butter and cheeses.”
“Try some.” The chubby woman next to him pushes a block of cheese towards me. “I’m Daisy, Henry’s wife.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I say, cutting off a piece of cheese. I pair it with a hunk of bread and mumble with appreciation. “Wow, this is good!”
“Thank you,” Daisy says, blushing. “I work hard for the good of the town—we all do.”
“I must admit, I’m very curious about your history,” I say, knowing I have to step carefully. “Can you tell me about the last few years with Alpha Talon? Or before that, back towards your early settler days?”
I’ve timed my question to coincide with the arrival of the three elders, and just as they sit down, Agatha looks up towards me. I catch her eye and try a friendly smile, but she doesn’t return it. Melanie fusses over them a little before coming to sit down on the other side of Jackson, who is next to me.
“I can’t tell you much about the early days,” Jackson says. “Perhaps Leah would like to talk to you about it sometime. I can tell you about our years with Talon, though.”
“Please, go ahead,” I say, filling my plate with a selection of the good food spread out on the table.
For poor folk, they have a hell of a spread set up—and they did yesterday, too.
“Talon’s father was an incredibly tough alpha,” Jackson says. “It wasn’t really his fault. For many generations, the alphas kept us safe from the dangers beyond Clover’s boundary.”
“Would you like to tell me more about that?” I ask.
“All I know is tales and superstition,” Jackson says. “Like most of us do. I assume you want to know more about how Talon led, though, considering you are taking his place?”
“Yes, exactly,” I answer, trying not to sound overly interested.
“Talon’s father was tough, like his father before him. I knew Talon when he was a young boy. We used to play together, didn’t we, Henry?”
“We did,” Henry agrees, smiling. “And his father was not too fond of it.”
“True,” Jackson laughs. “We were always going out into the scrub, pushing the boundary, testing each other to see who was the most afraid of leaving Clover.”
“An old game,” Henry says, chuckling.
“Talon’s father was lost to us early—a heart attack, they think. His widow died of a broken heart.”
“Tragic,” I mutter.
