This week, though, Drake and Finn collaborated. The neighbors are coming instead the hospital crew.
I spend the day in the kitchen.
Not because anyone asked.
Because when Malcolm texted—Can we bring anything?—I caught myself typing,I'll bake.
Butter softens on the counter; sugar pours in bright granules. I move through the motions like a dance my body remembers even after forgetting nest-building and scent-chasing.
I haven't baked for my pack since the nest incident.
I bake for the neighbors though.
By late afternoon, there are two kinds of cookies cooling on racks, a lemon loaf, and a tray of stuffed mushrooms. The kitchen smells like comfort.
I don't feel love exactly. But I feel right. Settled. Purposeful.
It's the closest thing to contentment I've had in weeks.
Drake wanders in and leans on the doorjamb. "You're in a good mood."
"I'm baking. It's not that deep."
"It is for you."
I don't answer.
"You could make something for us sometime, too."
"You live here. You can eat these."
"That's not what I—" He breaks off. "Never mind. These smell amazing."
"Thank you, Alpha."
He winces.
He leaves with one cookie and tight shoulders.
The doorbell rings at seven.
Alex's scent hits first. Deep pine, clean and cool. Malcolm follows—cedar and citrus. Finn is a blaze of ginger and tea.
They fill the doorway with easy smiles. Finn's hair looks like he walked through a windstorm. Malcolm carries two bottles of wine. Alex has a small bakery box and a potted basil plant.
"We come bearing offerings," Malcolm announces.
"It's my basil," Finn says. "You're fostering him until my window gets more light."
"He was dying," Alex says. "Vee will fix him."
I take the plant automatically. Its leaves are drooping. "He'll live."
Finn grins, full and delighted. "See? Told you she'd save him."
Ragon steps forward, shaking hands, exchanging polite barbs. Eli offers drinks. Drake hovers behind Marie, who's turned herself into curated domestic bliss. She watches the neighbors, cataloguing what they see and don't say.
Alex's eyes catch mine, relief crossing his face. Finn wiggles his fingers in a little wave. Malcolm breathes deeply. "God, your kitchen smells like heaven. Lead me to carbs."
