Total pages in book: 202
Estimated words: 193561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 968(@200wpm)___ 774(@250wpm)___ 645(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 968(@200wpm)___ 774(@250wpm)___ 645(@300wpm)
“Mornin’ you two,” Greyson greets while his thumb moves back and forth over my shoulder.
Surprisingly, his warmth is somewhat steadying for my heart, my breathing.
“We were trying to get out of here without bothering you. Hello!” the human lady greets as she holds out the cardboard crate filled with containers of delicious-smelling food. There are already two plastic baskets filled with food supplies on the front step. Enough food supplies to feed a family for more than a few weeks, by the looks of it.
Greyson lets go of me and relieves her of the tray.
“Mom, Bailey, this is Stacy. Stace, Carrie is my stepmom, the only mother I remember, which is why your nose is twitching with confusion. Bailey is my sister.”
I halt my nose and as both women smile, do my best to smile back. Carrie reaches for and hugs me. And it feels strange, because I’m not a touchy-feely type, would never have imagined being hugged by a human, but… it’s actually quite nice.
Bailey then does the same and in my ear she says, “Welcome to the family. I’ve been waiting a long time to have a sister.”
And now I feel thrown off. I look at her smiling face and say, “Me, too.”
Not that it’s true. I never thought I’d ever have a sister. I have friends who are like sisters though, in the pack, but the only way I’d expect to think of someone as a sister is if I thought Wyatt would pair up with just one woman and that’s just…unfathomable.
She smiles wider. “Well, yay then.”
“Yay,” I parrot weakly, feeling like my face is aflame.
Maybe they haven’t heard the news about who I am and how I came to be here. When they do though, they’re probably going to give me the cold shoulder. Or worse.
“I’m half-shifter, but I don’t shift,” Bailey explains. ”Do have a shifter’s nose, though.” She twitches her nose. “A strong one. And I’m also the resident librarian and historian. I’ll need your backstory so I can add information to our records. I’ve been working on a massive genealogy project.” She smiles. “And I handle our pack’s records for the global shifter archives and census.”
I try to keep smiling, unsure of what to say, but I’m pondering the notion of global shifter archives. Wyatt would never cooperate in providing any information about our pack to outsiders. If he received census forms since he took over, I’ve never seen them. Though I did see those old records once.
Sharing inside information would be unthinkable to him. A punishable crime if any of us filled out those forms. But if this archive is thorough, I wonder if it would have old information about our pack, the pack we used to be, the people that used to belong to it, including my immediate family. I’d like to see those records. Though I’m afraid to see them as much as I’d love to know, once and for all, what’s there.
The awkward silence is broken by Greyson clearing his throat.
Bailey’s eyes hit his face and then she straightens up. “But of course that can wait until whenever you two surface.”
“It’s… great to meet you both,” I say, grateful she’s not about to question me right now.
“Thanks for the grub. Good timing, but time to go,” Greyson says.
“I made several meals there,” Carrie says, gesturing, “But I also sent groceries. Grey doesn’t cook other than typical bachelor meals, but I wasn’t sure if you did. If you don’t, could send more meals over.”
“I cook,” I tell her.
“Oh good,” Bailey says, “So you’ll appreciate the kitchen then. Nice, right?”
“It’s…it’s beyond my wildest dreams,” I answer.
Bailey smiles wider. “I don’t cook. Mom has tried to teach me but I’m a disaster in the kitchen. Even still, I helped decorate the house thinking of the touches I’d want if it were my place.”
“You did really well,” I tell her. “I love everything about it.”
Greyson touches his lips to the side of my head, so I look up at his face and he’s got a big smile on it. “You like to cook?” he checks.
I nod.
“Any good at it?”
“People seem to like what I cook,” I tell him. “I wanted to be a chef when I grew up.”
“But you haven’t had the chance?” he asks.
I shake my head.
His eyes search mine as he replies, “Cook all you want for me, wife.”
“Okay,” I whisper, trying hard to maintain eye contact. He seems to like it, but it’s so odd to stare directly at an alpha’s face like this.
There’s loaded silence for a beat when Greyson turns to his smiling family. “Time to go. As you can see, we still need to get to know one another. Thanks again for the food. See you later.”
“Can’t wait,” Carrie says, beaming. “Tell us when you’re ready for us to do a family dinner. Congratulations, you two.”