Cold-Blooded Alpha by Eve Bale

Chapter Fourteen

One of the pack caught sight of the strange wolf Savannah spotted hanging around her cabin, so the pack went out to hunt him.

Not that anyone told me about it. No, that would make too much sense.

I learn about it from the muffled conversations I overhear outside mine and Dayne's window early the next morning.

With yet another sighting, I can’t help but wonder at what I saw, whether it was the same wolf who seems to be haunting the pack.

Even though I’m tempted to follow since I caught sight of him too, by the time I've climbed out of bed and stumble to the window, I'm in time to see most of the pack has already shifted and are disappearing into the forest.

Still half asleep since it's just turning five, I shove the window open when Luka appears directly below me.

And after glancing at something or someone I can't see, he tells me to stay out of the forest today and not bother with breakfast. They'll be out hunting most of the morning.

Then, a large, heavily-muscled gray wolf draws my gaze when he leaps down the front porch steps. I recognize him at once. Dayne.

He pauses to shoot me a look loaded with meaning, I'm guessing to warn me against running away again, before following the rest of the pack through the woods.

Turning my attention back to ask Luka about this strange wolf, I'm in time to catch a flash of lean, tanned muscle before I wrench my gaze away. He's preparing to shift, and I doubt Dayne would appreciate me watching his beta strip.

From what I hear, bones cracking, and then a wolf chuffing, it doesn't take Luka long. And a couple of minutes later when risk a quick peek, the clearing is empty and the pack are gone.

A yawn sneaks up on me. It's so wide it makes my jaw crack and my eyes water.

About the same time, I realize something. No breakfast for the pack means there's no reason for me to be awake early. Which means there's nothing to stop me from crawling back into bed and staying there.

Dayne has such an insanely comfortable bed, the prospect of returning to it has me eagerly pulling the window closed when a small voice in my head speaks up.

But you're Luna of the pack.

Although the voice is very small, it stops me dead.

Is it right for me to be lazing about in bed while the pack are out hunting?

As Luna, I should be out there, running beside my alpha—leading the pack—but I'm not. Once again, I'm an outsider—an outcast.

"That's what I should've told him I wanted," I mutter, forehead pressed against the cool glass. "To be treated like I belong."

Which is stupid, I tell myself, because there's no way I have it in me to be Luna and take on the responsibility of helping Dayne run the pack. Not that he needs any help from me.

Then I remember the state of the fridge.

I doubt there would even have been enough eggs or bacon to feed everyone this morning, anyway. Maybe it would be enough food for those with a human appetite, but we shifters can put food away like no one's business.

When Dayne went off with Luka after we nearly had sex beside the lake, I didn't see them again. Not even at dinner.

They were out late enough for me to be well and truly dead asleep before he came up to bed. If he came up to bed at all, that is, so telling him about the state of the refrigerator was impossible.

As it's Friday, I could go into town and do the food pick-up since Regan said it was a standing order situation, so I probably don't have to pay. I can just say it's for Dayne and they'll know.

It isn't like the guy carrying boxes into the grocery store didn't see me sitting in Dayne's car on my first day in Hardin. He even waved at me, and since it was only a few days ago, he couldn't have forgotten me already.

I can do this, I tell myself, starting for the bathroom.

I may not be the Luna, but I can stock up the fridge and maybe even stop at the diner and pick up some muffins for breakfast.

I pause.

Unless they expect me to pay for the food, which would be a problem since I have no cash.

But that's no big deal. I can just ask, and if they say they need me to pay, then I won't bother. That way I know I at least tried since the worst thing that can happen is they say no.

For a second, I picture it: the pack returning from hunting to find the table beautifully laid out with pies, pastries, and muffins, and I'm waiting with freshly brewed coffee.

Maybe Dayne even smiles.

Er, probably not smiling since it is Dayne.

But if I can get away with him not glaring at me, I'd say that was something worth celebrating.

Yes, I'm going to do it.

It doesn't take me long to shower and dress in a pair of blue jeans and a tank top. Then, heading for Dayne's truck, I get two massive signs the universe must want me to go through with it when I find the doors are unlocked and the key is in the ignition.

"Like it was meant to be." I grin, climbing in and reaching for the seatbelt.

But just before I turn the engine on, I have a moment of doubt.

What if Dayne thinks I'm running again?

No, I tell myself, as I turn the key. They'll be hunting for hours, Luka said. Plenty of time for me to hit the store and be back again before anyone's even noticed I'm gone. And I’m doing this for the pack.

I refuse to believe getting groceries is going to piss Dayne—or anyone—off. He might even appreciate my help. Because God knows after the humiliation at the pack meeting, he should be grateful I'm doing anything at all for him.

With that, I turn my attention to trying to remember how to reverse.

* * *

As with everything in my life, nothing goes according to plan.

First, I turn left instead of right once I've driven Dayne's truck out of the narrow road and it takes me twenty minutes before I realize I'm heading uphill instead of downhill.

Then, trying to turn, I end up stalling, which takes me another ten minutes until I can figure out what I'm doing wrong.

Like I said, I don't have a lot of driving experience and I haven't had proper driving lessons before, only the few times some of the pack let me drive back from town after we'd gone grocery shopping.

Over time, I realized it was more because they wanted an excuse to play with their phone than because they thought learning to drive was something I would enjoy.

When I get to town, it's as quiet as it was the last time I was there, and I pull up in front of the grocery store and turn off the engine.

But I don't get out.

Now that I've gone through the hardest parts of 'mission restock the farmhouse', namely finding my way to town, not wrecking Dayne's truck, or getting pulled over by a cop because it's not like I have a driver’s license, I'm too scared to get out and go to the store.

Because… people.

Since I rarely left my old pack, I have limited experience being around normal people. And small-talk? God help me if someone tries to make small-talk with me, or even worse, expects me to strike up a conversation with them.

I guess I could say something about the weather, or maybe ask if they've heard about the game Marshall was playing, and hope they say no since I'd have nothing more to add to the conversation if they had.

"Hey, you all right?"

The voice coming from the driver’s side window makes me jump and I give myself whiplash turning.

It's the guy from before, the one who waved at me, and I can't believe I was so distracted I didn't see him until now.

I don't say anything for the longest time, just stare at him like an idiot. "Uh, yeah. Am I… Am I parked in the wrong place?"

He has a wide bright smile, this guy with the mass of dark brown curls, in a blue apron over a white t-shirt that marks him out as a grocery store employee.

"Right place, and not bad parking either. Not many people get it right the first time." He grins at me. "It's the angle of the sidewalk."

A compliment. A genuine compliment that is thrown out like it's nothing and I hold tight onto it.

For someone who doesn't see many of those, I feel myself flushing, shrugging like it doesn't mean anything. "Uh, thanks," I mutter.

His smile widens, and he leans a little closer to the car, his hands resting on the top of the open window.

"So," he says, his voice casual, "you from the Blackshaw farmhouse then?"

For a second, I blink at him, not knowing what to say before I clear my throat. Then I tell myself I have to say something before he thinks I’m crazy, weird, or both.

"Yeah, I just moved here."

"I saw you with Dayne. So, are you and he—"

"Fisher. Quit flirting and get the girl the groceries," a booming voice interrupts. Making me jump again.

There's a guy in front of the shop in a matching blue shop apron, but he's an older more worn version of the guy I'm talking to.

Still, he has the same laughing hazel eyes and creases around his eyes and mouth that tell me this is a family that likes to laugh.

My eyes widen when it hits me what he just said.

Fisher, the guy who's leaning against my door, was flirting with me?

Me? Plain, brown-haired, brown-eyed, freckle-faced me?

Disbelieving, I turn to find him watching me with an unrepentant grin stretching across his face.

"Fisher? That's your name?" I ask, trying to sound like I'm taking all of this in my stride. Like I'm the sort of girl used to guys flirting with her, and it's no big deal.

"Yeah, and you are…"

"Talis, Talis Merrick," I murmur.

Tilting his head a little, his gaze sweeps over my face, drifts down to linger on my silky peach-colored tank top before he raises his eyes back to my face. "Pretty name for a pretty lady."

All my efforts at playing it cool evaporate under a searing blush I feel spreading all over my cheeks, neck, and shoulders.

He is flirting with me.

For the first time, a guy is actually flirting with me, not like the guys of my old pack used to. They'd only try it on with me far enough away from my uncle and more often than not, their reason to be nice was because of what they wanted from me, rather than because they liked me.

But this guy seems nice, and I smile at him since I don’t know what to say.

His eyes drop to my lips, his eyes darkening before he clears his throat and takes a deliberate step back. "Let me get your truck filled up."

Nodding, I watch as he turns and disappears inside the shop, side-stepping the man who has to be his father who shakes his head at him.

"How long will it take?" I ask Fishers’ dad, darting a glance at the diner a couple of doors down from the grocery store.

Through the glass-fronted building, I can see the place is still mostly empty since it's not yet six in the morning. But as the sky brightens every minute, more and more cars are pulling up into town.

Soon it'll be busy, or maybe it won't with the town being so small, but it'll be busier than I want it to be, and since I didn't put shoes on before I left, I'd rather not have everyone see.

I don't think I'm ready to meet the whole town in bare feet. I'm not ready to meet them at all if I can help it.

"Not long. Everything's boxed up already. You need to grab breakfast for everyone?"

I nod, wondering what he knows about Dayne's pack. Obviously, he can't know we're all shifters. No human can, and be allowed to live. But he must wonder why so many people are living together in a house in the woods.

Maybe he thinks it’s a commune or something?

"Yeah, I thought I would," I say.

His eyes are as kind as his son's and he grins, stepping out of the doorway without looking as if he knows Fisher's coming up behind him with the first of the boxes.

"Since Fisher's got things well in hand, and you're still new to Hardin, how about I pick up your breakfast?"

Already I'm shaking my head, even as I push the car door open. "I can't let you do that, I can—"

"It's no bother to stick it on the tab with the groceries, and I've done it before for Dayne or Luka when they don't have time to stop in town for long."

And before I can stop him, he's striding toward the diner, giving me no choice but to accept his generous offer.

"Thanks!" I call out belatedly.

Meanwhile, Fisher’s dumped the first of the food boxes in the back of the truck and is heading back for the next when I hop out of the truck.

After slamming the door shut, I jog after him. "Let me help you."

"I've got it." He turns and starts walking backward into the shop, his eyes sliding down my body before pausing at the sight of my bare feet. He blinks in surprise.

"I prefer not to wear shoes," I say quickly, peeking behind him to make sure he isn't about to walk into something, or trip and go down since he isn't watching where he's going.

"Ah," Fisher says, "hippie, is it?"

He sounds so serious, but his eyes are sparkling in a way that tells me he isn’t making fun of me, I can't help but laugh.

"No, I—" I stop because I don't know how to say it without sounding weird.

Fisher stops walking backward. "You what?"

He looks so genuinely interested in my answer that I feel brave enough to tell him. "I like nature, and the earth beneath my feet makes me feel closer to it.”

I tense up waiting for him to laugh at me the way my old pack used to, even though as shifters they should have understood me better than any human could.

"That sounds cool," Fisher says, cocking his head in an almost wolf-like way. A way that tells me he's really listening to me. "Nature's cool. That's my dream job, to be close to it too and be a forest ranger or something like it."

"You can tell me while we load up the truck if you want?" I offer because I have no idea what forest rangers do except track hikers who’ve gotten themselves lost.

Grinning at me, Fisher holds the shop door open for me. "Sure, come on."