A Wolf Scorned by Taylor Spratt

Amira

My back ached, my butt ached, my legs ached, my damn soul ached. I’d been sword training with Callum since dawn and now the afternoon sun broke through the trees, honing in on my forehead as if it had a vendetta against me.

Finally, Callum, whose face was just as sweaty as mine, told me the words I’d longed to hear since I crawled out of bed. “We’re done for today.”

Miles approached the training area as I returned my silver sword to its rack. His hair, which was usually an untamed mop of strawberry blond, now looked suspiciously well-groomed. And the jeans and casual T-shirt he normally wore were replaced by a button down shirt and khakis.

“You on your way to a wedding, Miles?” I dabbed the sweat from my face with a towel.

“Actually, I’m on my way to have lunch at my mom’s house. I was hoping you’d wanna come with?”

I almost dropped the towel. He wanted me to meet his mom? A strange mix of nerves and joy churned in my belly.

What would Miles’s mother be like? What if she was overbearing and mean? She’d have to be a real dragon mama to raise a son as strong and accomplished as Miles. What if she didn’t like me? Wait, wait. Miles and I weren’t dating. Sure, there was chemistry, but I shouldn't have to worry. We were just friends.

“Hello, Amira? You still in there?” Miles snapped his fingers in front of my face.

“Yeah. Sorry, just spaced out for a minute,” I laughed, gripping the back of my head, trying to play it cool.

Despite my apprehension, I didn’t want to turn down his invitation. Miles was way too much of a sweetheart to say no to. Plus my belly was practically digesting itself, and if I didn’t eat soon, I might just straight up shift and end up devouring the first rabies-infected wild animal my wolf laid eyes upon.

“So long.” Not giving it another thought I waved goodbye to Callum and left to take a shower.

After I got ready, Miles and I drove for half an hour down a winding road that cut through the mountains. The sun was still high in the sky, making the lush foliage along the road’s edge shine.

The roaring engines of Miles’s car cut as we pulled up in front of an adorable, little pink cottage surrounded by ferns.

It had a brown thatch roof and a chimney that spat a savory-smelling, grey smoke from its mouth. The windows even had window boxes filled with pink flowers. Everything looked so homey and inviting. The more I saw his mother’s home the more Miles's gentle soul made sense.

We left the car and Miles knocked at the wooden door. I stood behind him, waiting for his mother to answer.

As I waited, I wondered what his mother would be like. Everything about her house looked so immaculate and well-maintained. She had to be a woman who expected perfection in everything.

I brushed at my dress, trying to straighten out the wrinkles when the door finally creaked open.

“Miles? Miles, is that you?” A frail-looking old lady answered the door. She wore a loose-fitting pink gown and house slippers. She was squat and slightly hunched over. Her grey hair was held in a tight bun with a few stray strands dangling over her face and she had on what had to be the thickest pair of glasses I had ever seen.

“Yes mom, it’s me. I brought my friend over for lunch.” Miles bent down to meet his mother eye to eye, clasped her withered hand in his, and hugged her.

“Friend?” His mother gave me the up and down and smiled. “Ooh. A very pretty friend.”

“Thank you. My name is Amira.” I took her hand and shook it. She smiled somewhat absent mindedly, showing more gum than teeth.

I could finally relax, realizing there was never anything to fear. His mother was adorable and just as kind as her son.

“Cookies, Dear?” She reached for a tray filled with delicious-looking freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

I eagerly accepted, taking one from the tray. But the moment I bit down, my teeth hit something crazy hard. What the hell? I covered my lips and spat a few pebbles into my hand. Those weren't chocolate chips, they were rocks!

“Something wrong, dear?” She slowly maneuvered the tray back over to the nightstand. “Nope, nothing at all.” I waved her off.

Maybe Miles's mom wasn’t quite as harmless as I thought. I’d only been here two minutes and already she was trying to kill me.

While she turned to return the tray, Miles tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear. “She’s half blind. I forgot to warn you about the cookies. Sorry.”

Ohhhhh, well at least she wasn’t trying to kill me. But this did raise the question on what in the world lunch was going to be like. I wish I’d eaten back at the cabin.

Miles’s Mom dropped the tray before she could reach the stand, and the cookies went rolling along the floor like wheels.

She coughed so hard you’d wonder how a lady so small could make such a loud noise. Her little body swung back and forth like a pendulum before falling into Miles's arm.

“Mom, are you okay? You know you should be taking it easy. You can’t manage this much exertion anymore.” Miles' words rang with concern as he held his mother like the loving and dutiful son he was.

Her coughing spell ended and she apologized for it, saying that she was fine.

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. Are you sure you're all right? Should I call for help?” I knelt at her side.

“No, of course not!” She adjusted her glasses on her nose before standing up straight. “If we call the ambulance every time I cough, I’d live at the hospital. Now, come, Amira. I want to show you something.”

She shuffled towards an opening to another room. Miles's jaw slackened and his skin paled as he watched his mother go.

I knew the pain of losing my mother. But it wasn’t until now that I realized the only thing more painful than losing your most precious ones quickly was losing them slowly.

“Come, come now, you two. Keep up!” she said and we met her in the other room. This room was smaller than the last. It had two couches with old books and photo albums stacked high to either side of the seats.

She sat on the smaller of the two couches holding a dusty old photo album in her hands.

“Come sit beside me, child.” She patted on the seat next to her and I sat down beside her.

“Do you know who this is?” She opened the album and pointed to a picture of a teenage boy with a wispy mustache and braces.

“Wait, is that Miles?” I laughed, and Miles groaned, covering his face in dismay.

“Come on, Mom. You know I hate when you do this,” Miles complained like a child on the brink of throwing a tantrum.

“Oh, my goodness, is this one Miles too?” I flipped the page to look at more old pictures, just to grind his gears a little more.

“He looks so adorable here,” I giggled, flipping the page. “I didn’t know you had dimples as a child, Miles. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“That’s not the only place he had dimples at that age,” his mother said, and my jaw gaped open in exaggerated glee.

“Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see!” I cheered as Miles complained bitterly. I never expected torturing Miles to be this much fun.

“Oh. My. Goodness.” I took a long pause between each world for dramatic effect. The latest page featured a baby picture of Miles, one where he was butt naked.

Miles snatched the book away, having had more than enough.

“Aww, you big spoilsport! You're no fun, Miles!” I teased

“Don’t mind him, Amira. He can just be so shy sometimes.” His mom took off her glasses to wipe them off with her dress.

“Aww, you don't need to be shy, Miles. Your tushy was so cute.”

Miles’s face went red as a strawberry and he slammed the album closed with one hand.

“Well, I’m hungry. Anyone else hungry?” Not waiting for an answer, Miles swept his mother and I off the couch and out the sitting room before we could open another album.

“Oh goodness. I almost forgot I’d already put out the food. It’s a good thing you reminded me, son,” she said as Miles scooted us through the house.

We entered a room with a large, oval shaped table. Five wooden chairs gathered around it, an even three feet apart. The air was thick with the scent of sweet and savory meats, making my mouth water.

The spread looked incredible. There were barbeque chicken legs, roast duck breast, both with dark and flavorful looking sauce smothered over the tops. There were buttered bread rolls, tuna fish sandwiches piled a mile high, and baked macaroni and cheese that looked and smelled so damn good.

I practically drooled as I eyed the spread, and Miles's mom held her back straight for the first time since I met her as she beamed with pride at the lovely dishes she’d prepared.

For some reason Miles didn’t seem too impressed. He eyed the food with a look of confusion as he circled the table inspecting each and every dish.

“Um, mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Is this the take-out I ordered?”

She jerked her head to the side, annoyed by the question.

“I saw that delivery man you sent to my house, bringing his boxed up restaurant food, garbage!” She threw a hand in rebuke. “Well I sent it all back. Nobody cooks for my baby in my house but me!”

She jabbed her thumb at her chest and pursed her lips while giving Miles the side eye.

Miles looked at me, and if his eyes could speak right now they’d say, ‘I am so, so sorry.’

I didn’t understand why, though. The food looked great. Maybe she’d done a better job of it than she did with the cookies.

The three of us pulled out our chairs, his mother at the head of the table, and Miles and I to either side of her.

The instant Miles’s mom took her seat, a high pitched shriek nearly broke the sound barrier. Soon after that, a frightened white cat tore out from under her butt and ran out of the room.

“Goodness me. Was that Whiskers?” she settled in her seat, looked confused by what had just happened. “That silly little cat is always getting herself into trouble.”

I stifled a laugh and glanced over at Miles, who fought back a chuckle of his own.

“Well, go on then. Help yourselves,” she insisted before picking up a bread roll and placing it carefully on her plate.

With a shaky hand Miles picked up a spoon and cautiously scooped up a spoonful of mac and cheese. Following his lead, I put a few tuna fish sandwiches on my plate and then placed a chicken leg beside them.

This was just a little lunch date with his mom, and yet by the way sweat now slowly drained down Miles's face, you’d think he was on a battlefield and a landmine was about to explode.

The last thing to go on my plate was a tiny helping of mac and cheese and then I dug in. I took a chicken leg in hand and parted my lips to take a bite but before it got to my mouth, I couldn't help but notice it looked a bit funny.

The leg was all curvy looking instead of straight. My stomach churned as I realized I was holding a frog leg, and worst of all, it was still half raw.

“Enjoying the chicken, dear?” she said with a mouth full of food, and I nodded briskly, eager to please.

I dropped the frog leg, deciding to go for the sandwiches instead. I mean, you couldn't mess that up right?

Wrong.

I bit into the sandwich and between the fish and bread was an entire tuna can lid. Holy hell! Trying not to draw any attention to myself I spat out the sandwich into a napkin and hid it in my pocket.

I eyed the mac and cheese with suspicion, finally understanding why Miles had reacted the way he did. I felt like I was about to step on a landmine of my own if I dared try eating anything else.

But she was eating, and somehow even Miles was eating. It would look bad if I just sat here not trying anything else, wouldn’t it?

Putting on my big girl panties I decided to buck up and give it one last chance. I stuck the fork into the mac and cheese, forking up just a little bit and I slowly brought it up to my lip.

I placed the food in my mouth and started chewing.

It was cheesy and creamy, salty, and so damn good. I couldn’t believe my taste buds, that’s how good this was. I cut into the mac and cheese, scooping out a massive helping and splatting it on my plate.

I dug in like a starving woman and gobbled it down, savoring every cheesy bite.

A tip of a shoe brushed against my shin and I glanced over at Miles. My mouth was so filled with food my cheeks distended.

Miles dropped his fork, and the macaroni that still clung to the utensil fell to the table. Miles then proceeded to pull what looked like a pellet of cat food from his mouth before quickly retching into a napkin.

My lip twitched and I gasped. My eyes scanned the mac and cheese I’d been stuffing my face with. Mixed in with the cheese and macaroni was a generous helping of… yup. Cat food. I’d been stuffing my face with cat food.

I could have hurled but instead I managed to settle for using my napkin again.

Distracting me from the budding nausea, Miles’s mother began to speak.

“So, Amira. How did you and Miles meet?” She put down her fork and wiped her lip with a napkin.

Miles looked at me nervously.

“Well, um,” Miles piped up only to be shut up by his mom.

“I asked Amira, Miles. Let her speak. She is the guest here.”

Damn. What was I supposed to say? The truth just didn’t seem dinner table appropriate. I couldn't just say, ‘well you know your son kidnapped me’.

“We met at a party,” I blurted and Miles seemed relieved.

“Well, please take good care of my son. He is such a good boy and you know he takes good care of me. I would be lost without him. He may be a big tough Beta now, but he will always be my sweet little boy.” Her words were so filled with motherly love and adoration it made me miss my own mother.

“Your relationship is amazing. I envy you both,” I said. Miles seemed to read into my words more deeply than his mother, and his cheerful expression darkened somewhat. He silently took a drink of water.

“Well, Amira. Why don’t we cut to the juicy stuff?” She leaned in and lifted her eyebrows.

“Juicy stuff?”

“Yes, you and Miles, you’re dating, right?” she asked and water sprayed from Miles’s mouth like a geyser.

“Mom,” Miles choked. “Don’t ask her that.”

“Come on, Amira. You can tell me. Ignore Miles. He’s just being silly.”

What was I supposed to say? I looked over at Miles and he gave a pained look.

“You see, mom? You're embarrassing her.” Miles leaned back in his chair and glared at his Mom. But she was only getting started, she wasn't about to let her son get in the way of her antics.

“Come on, I don’t see why it would be embarrassing. You're a keeper, son. Any girl would want to date you.” She shifted in her seat to face me. “Do you know that the minute Miles hit puberty I had to chase the young ladies away from him? He was dating a new girl every week!”

“Aww, Lord.” Miles sank deeper into his chair.

“But you now, you’re the first girl he’s brought over here in years. That’s why I know you must be special to him.”

I was special to Miles? I knew we were attracted to each other but I hadn’t even thought deeper into it than that.

“Mom, enough of that. We’re just friends.”

His mom pointed both her fingers in the air and twirled them about as she sang the words, “First comes friendship, then come loves. Six months later comes the marriage doves.”

She sang the words over and over while Miles begged her to stop. The entire thing was both wacky and adorable. All I could do was watch the show and try not to laugh. This was family. This was real love and I wanted to be a part of it.

* * *

After a few more hours ofwatching his mom lovingly torment Miles, we said our goodbyes and Miles and I went back to the car.

Miles pulled out of the driveway and turned down the road in the direction of the Alpha’s cabin.

“Amira. I have to apologize to you. Only God knows what you think of me now, not to mention my mother. I begged her to act cool around you but...”

“Miles, Miles. Your mom is adorable. And why would this change the way I think of you in any way?”

“It was so chaotic in there. So crazy. I just wanted us to have a nice lunch together.”

Miles turned left at a fork in the road and changed gears.

“That was not chaos. It was fun, it was really fun,” I said.

“So you mean you really enjoyed yourself? For real?” Miles sounded less than convinced.

“Hey man, you're lucky to have a mom like that. I can tell she really loves you.”

“Yeah, and I love her so much, too. She wasn’t always like that you know. I mean yes, she’s almost seven hundred years old, but she only really started declining when the curse hit. Her frail old body just can’t handle it,” Miles sniffled before taking a sharp left, up a steep incline.

I knew just how he felt but I didn’t say it. I couldn’t bear to make him feel worse than he already did. He was terrified he would lose his mom. It would break him in ways he would never fully recover from.

A tear slid down Miles's cheek and I took his free hand in mine.

“Your mom’s going to be okay. We’re going to find a way to break this thing. I promise.” He nodded and we didn’t speak for the rest of the ride home. We just held hands while watching the road.

All this time and I’d only now realized Miles and I were the same. I loved my mother more than anyone in the world and I was powerless to save her. But Miles's mom was different. She, I actually could save. I had a responsibility to help her, to help Miles.

I now knew I had no choice. I would have to put my plans of self discovery on the back burner. At least for now. First I needed to find a way to break the curse on the entire pack. Not because I needed to, but because I wanted to. Then, once that was finished there would be nothing stopping me.

As I came to terms with my new paradigm shift however, there was one pesky little thought that kept bothering me, like a fly buzzing around my head and refusing to leave me alone.

What was this great, grand secret the Alphas were keeping from me? And just why would knowing it make me change the way I look at them?