A child she had with another man…
Groaning in irritation, I snap the first button on my shirt, popping it for momentary relief when I decide I need something strong enough to quell the way I'm feeling. At this rate, I might be considered a drunk if not for my wolf's fast-working metabolism to burn off the liquor before rendering me mad.
It would have been good to lose myself for a moment so I wouldn't regret coming home, where I'm too upset to face Arianna, but determined to stay rooted in my house. Avoiding the hallway, I quietly make my way to the kitchen, my ears perked to listen for any sounds that might indicate that she's awake. But the house is quiet, so I try to be stealthy as I get out a bottle and glass to pour myself a drink.
Just as I'm about to close the cabinet door, I hear the sound of tiny feet padding down the hall and stopping at the doorway leading to the kitchen. My heart slows down, and my breath hitches in my throat as I slowly pull my head back from the shield of the cabinet door, only to meet hazel eyes that glitter like gold.
“Hey, buddy…” I greet the boy kindly as I close the door and turn to give him my full attention. “Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?”
The boy shakes his head as tiny fists rub his sleepy eyes, his lips forming a pout. “I hungry,” he murmurs as he pads forward, waddling and swaying as if he can barely stand on his feet.
My heart begins to race when I recall what it was like being that age, on the fine line between oblivion and discovering that I was born to be a shape-shifting wolf. I was always hungry, always in search of a late-night snack, and my older brother Tyson would always come to the rescue.
Now that I'm seeing it from the other side of the spectrum, there's a tug on my heartstrings that instantly makes me soften toward the little boy. When he stops rubbing his eyes and looks up at me, curiously, expectantly, I know that I can't be upset with Arianna about moving on.
Not when the little boy is the spitting image of her, with pin-straight black hair swept to the left on his forehead, contrasting the soft warmth of his hazel eyes. I remember the warmth I felt radiating off his mother on that fateful night, and it serves as a reminder of how cruel I was to her, glaring at her as if her claim was preposterous.
How can I blame her for moving on and finding the happiness I couldn't give her?
“What would you like, buddy?” I ask as I crouch in front of the boy. “I have some beef jerky in the fridge.”
Noah frowns, tilting his head curiously to one side. “Beef jockey? Wha's that?”
Chuckling, I gesture toward the fridge in the corner with a nod. “Beef jerky,” I correct him and open the door to pull out the brown bag. I grab a stick of seasoned dry meat and hold it out to him.
As soon as he sniffs and catches a whiff of the meat, his eyes widen, and he grabs the jerky, gnawing at the dry meat when he fails to get a bite off.
“The trick is to pull on it,” I say as I take one out for myself and demonstrate how to take a bite. “Once you get a piece, you can chew on it until it's soft, so you can enjoy all the flavors.”
Noah nods as he keenly watches me, doing as I showed him and humming in delight.
He's just about to take another bite when he suddenly turns and calls out, “Mama!” as if he felt her presence long before she made it down the hall.
Arianna appears at the doorway, her frown flicking between Noah and me.
“What's going on?” she asks, her voice hoarse.
“Noah woke up and wanted a snack,” I explain calmly as Noah rushes to his mother and holds up his half-eaten jerky, still chewing on some. “I had some beef jerky in the fridge. Want some?” I offer as I hold out the bag.
Arianna pauses as if she's gauging my calmness, then reaches down for her son and scoops him up. She offers him a smile as he chirps about how good the snack is, his voice muffled from his full mouth, but when she turns to me, her icy-cold glare lets me know that she hasn't forgiven me for last night.
It's not like I could give her any explanation as to why I was watching her sleep, unable to fall asleep myself when she was in the bedroom next to mine.
“No thanks. You should have woken me up,” she says with a disgruntled huff.
“It's not a problem. I just got back in, anyway.”
“You don't need to do anything for him,” she retorts, her lips pursing into a firm, indifferent line. “I can take care of Noah myself.” She turns to him then, and continues, “I've been doing it for—” she abruptly cuts off, her body visibly tensing as she lifts her horror-stricken eyes to me.
“How long have you been out there alone?” I ask, sensing that there's something she's not telling me. Perhaps her mate didn't die recently, and they've been navigating life without a home and provisions for longer than I thought.
Arianna gulps as she shakes her head. “It doesn't matter.” She turns back to Noah as if to change the conversation. “Do you want something else to eat, Noah-kins? Or do you wanna go back to bed?”
“Bed!” he says energetically as he sticks up an arm with a pointed finger. Arianna chuckles lightly, kissing his forehead before she turns to me with a curt nod, the smile wiped from her face.
“Thank you,” she says shortly before turning and carrying Noah down the hall and disappearing into his bedroom.
I sigh and let out the breath I didn't know I was holding, a frown furrowing my brows. I wish Arianna would just open up to me and let me know what her life has been like all these years, but she's obviously still apprehensive since I was the one who pushed her away from the start.
