I pause mid-push and tilt my head up so I can look directly at her. "You're weak. You need to exercise, too."
Lily doesn't seem offended, and somehow that pisses me off more. She just nods, gets up, and joins me.
Though it's been years since I've been this in sync with my wolf, if I close my eyes and tune into my shifter magic, I can feel the pull of the waxing moon. Nine more days and the full moon will hang high in the sky.
We have nine days before we break out of here or die trying.
Chapter 25: Mona
I've surmised Grayson is militant in all things. He's up early, means what he says, and expects everyone around him—enforcer or not—to follow his lead and obey.
I've learned this much about him, and knew whatever he had planned to help me and Beep would be just as intense as everything else he does.
And so, after another restless night of poor sleep, ignoring the inexplicable, gnawing ache in my chest when I see Silas with this unnamed woman in my dreams, I decide to beat Grayson at his own game and leave before he could make me do whatever it was he had planned.
I still haven't forgiven him for the way he treated me, and if he thought distracting me would get me to forgive him, he's wrong.
Though the air is humid, it has a cool bite to it as I slip out of the cabin before sunrise. I can see the shape of my palm in the gray light; dawn is close. Still, I hurry along the dirt drive, enjoying the long walk, listening to animals and birds scurry in the trees, hustling so my alphas don't wake and chase after me.
It's a pleasant walk. Beep is content, and so am I. It's hard to believe only a week ago I was so alone. Destitute.
It makes me appreciate this place even more.
I take my time, but eventually the road opens up into a large field, buildings cropping up slowly, then in a cluster. I'm surprised to find the cafeteria barn doors wide-open already, smoke billowing from a chimney at the back.
It's empty as I approach, but I meander around all the empty picnic tables and find Hilde and a few shifters in the back, the kitchen in full-swing.
Hilde catches my eye and winks, but holds her finger up for me to wait. It distracts the workers, who all stop to stare. A couple even try to approach me, but Hilde reprimands them and everyone gets back to work.
"Mona," she sings happily, wiping her hands on the towel hanging off her apron, tied around her thin waist. "You're up early. Are you hungry? Sit, let me feed you."
She doesn't wait for an answer, just ushers me toward a table and practically shoves me into the seat.
"I didn't mean to bother you—"
"You're no bother," she waves me off. But she's clearly in the middle of a hundred tasks. She pauses what she's doing to instruct a man around my age. He listens, but I wonder if he'll be able to recall the number of eggs the recipe calls for, considering how many times his eyes wander over to me. We accidentally catch eyes and his cheeks turn pink, which prompts Hilde to slap him upside the head.
I can't help it. I giggle. And the guy looks even more sheepish before dashing off.
"It's a busy time. We do a lot of prep the night before and first thing every morning. Serving time is actually the slowest time for us."
I abruptly stand. "Oh! Hilde, you're crazy busy. I didn't realize. Really, I can come back later, I'm not even—"
"Sit," she instructs, leaving no room for argument. She says it like a scolding mother and, worried she'll slap me upside the head too, I sit.
Everyone works together to feed the thousand wolves that will wander in and out of here throughout the day. Periodically, Hilde fills my plate. She pulls biscuits from the oven, drops one on the plate in front of me, then dumps the rest in a basket before refilling with batter. And as she slices roasted meat, a sliver ends up on my plate before the rest is piled onto a silver serving tray.
It's nice. Peaceful, and I love that I don't feel awkward even though we don't really know each other and aren't really talking. From everything I've heard of Hilde, she's like the clan's surrogate mother.
Strong, smart, quick, and no one fucks around in her presence. But she's kind and warm and loving, too, and that she's accepted me with open arms—it makes me feel like I've passed some kind of test, and all the other shifters follow her lead.
She makes me feel wanted.
I never had a mother, but I like to think if I did, she would have been like Hilde.
Though I can't imagine my father with a woman like her. Her expectations are too high; he'd never been good enough for someone like her.
As time passes, with more space from what happened, I can admit things I couldn't right after his death. No, he wasn't affectionate. Not when I was little, not on my birthday or holidays. Not when I was too sick to move.
