Paranoia is Good

“I need all the details!!!” Emma roared barging through the front door and almost running to the kitchen.

Ada already had Emma’s coffee made the way she liked, placing it on the island. She herself was sitting by that same island eating homemade crepes with strawberries from her grandparents’ summer house. Emma sipped her coffee and stole a piece of a crepe, impatience showing in her jerky moves, as Ada slowly chewed a bite of her breakfast. What was there even to chew?

“He kissed my cheek…” she growled not raising her eyes off the plate.

Emma’s loud unladylike laughter echoed throughout the goddamn house.

“I swear you are cursed. Are you sure your father hasn’t asked a witch to put some sex-repellent spell on you?”

Ada already had had a bad night having dreams of an invisible beast chasing her through a night forest growling her name. She had woken up hot and sensitive. Now she was grumpy and Emma’s great mood wasn’t helping.

“When are you seeing him next? Do you think he might give you a hug soon?”

Emma kept laughing at her own humor. Ada had to admit she liked Emma’s black leather pants, simple black crop top, and beige blazer outfit. She was not going to compliment her friend though, she wouldn’t hear it because of her loud laughter anyway.

Once Emma was done amusing herself, with a more serious expression she said, “Babe… why don’t you try to enjoy this arrangement? I know you’re attracted to him; you have always been. Allow yourself to act out of desire and playfulness. It is not always about necessity or planning. Besides you are a damn Alpha, banging your mate should make you stronger. I guess even if he is your ex-mate.”

Ada put away the dishes and said, “Let’s go! We are touring Research and Development today. If we don’t approve a new ventilation system anytime soon, they might start making and selling meth to pay for it themselves.”

She had a young Alpha visit to prepare for that night and wanted to be done with major responsibilities as soon as possible.

******

Damien showed up slightly early that night too. Ada was sitting at the kitchen table when she heard the front door opening without a knock. She knew he would find her easily by her smell even though the entire house smelled like her. Hearing footsteps she lifted her head to see him leaning in the doorway watching her with a tired face.

“Good evening, Ada. Can I have a cup of coffee?” he asked, starting to immediately look around the kitchen.

“Good evening.”

She got up to prepare him the drink. He enjoyed watching her stand on her tiptoes tensing her beautiful body to get the coffee grounds. He walked over to the couch into the dark living room that was attached to the kitchen with no wall separating the two. When she glanced his way, he was sitting on the couch with his head tilted back on the cushions, eyes closed.

His white skin was a stark contrast with his black button-down shirt and black hair. It almost glowed in the moonlight that flowed through the windows. She walked over studying the dark bags under his eyes. He didn’t open those black eyes when she placed the cup on the side table. A leather armchair was across from him and would provide a perfect hiding spot in the shadows of the room.

Once he heard the armchair dip under her wait, without opening his tired eyes he said, “I need you to stop me when I am doing something you are not ready for, or if I am hurting you.”

Oh, so now he was finally speaking about their sexual arrangement.

“I gave my word and I always keep it,” she answered.

He opened his eyes and took a look at her face hiding in the shadows. As always, there was nothing there.

“I admire that, but I don’t want to find out I raped someone in the morning.”

“I understand. I will let you know… verbally. And as I mentioned before I don’t intend to wake up in the same bed. One or two hours should be enough.”

He showed a very tired smile before saying, “I will limit myself at first.”

“I won’t visit you for the next two days. Same time once I am back. Sleep well, Ada.”

With that, he grabbed the coffee cup and walked out of the house.

Nothing. Not even a kiss on the cheek like last time. She was more of a virgin than she had been before being in an inappropriate booty call relationship. Ada was annoyed and decided that the reason was him having the audacity to take her coffee cup.

*******

Two days later she was walking up the outside stairs to the giant balcony of her grandparents’ summer house. She could already see her grandfather working slowly in the garden. Over the years he had turned it into more of an orchard with seventy apple trees of all colors. No one in their family liked or ate apples, but the soil in that region couldn’t birth more delicate fruit. She bitterly smiled at the symbolism; her family always kept things and people that were neither good nor useful.

She kissed her grandmother on the cheek and sat across from her at the small round table placed in the center of the vast balcony, before pouring herself tea into one of the giant cups. They sat in silence for a few minutes watching her grandfather.

How could these two people be fated mates? Her grandmother could be best described as a reincarnation of Margaret Thatcher. A brilliant mind, determination of steel, and just enough childhood trauma to strengthen the character. Her grandfather on the other hand couldn’t make a decision to save his life. And yet they had spent over fifty years together.

Maybe Moon Goddess wasn’t as flawless in her matchmaking. Maybe breaking her mate bond hadn’t been the biggest sacrifice of her life.

“How have you been, Tata?” she asked not looking at her grandmother.

“The house has been empty recently, especially with your brother spending more time at school, so we spend our time here,” she answered pretending to absent-mindedly play with her pearl necklace. So, her father had been gone on one of his mystery trips again.

“How is he?” Ada asked. “He” had always been the unofficial center of their conversations.

“Your father is healthy. I forced him to go through a full check-up. He still has those pills though…”

The cursed or blessed pills. Pills that were supposed to protect all-powerful Andre King from the poisons his enemies were supposedly plaguing his body with. Taking those pills daily had been the only reason Tata and her father argued. Being a chemist, she was wary of all the side effects especially after years of use. Ada herself wondered where he kept getting them, and even started considering those a placebo a witch had been tricking him with or yet another trick her father was playing. But Tata had run tests and it wasn’t a placebo pill and had such chemical compounds that could affect the nervous system. For such a powerful werewolf as her father, a small pill wasn’t a threat but it had been years. His paranoia about someone, some unknown one, trying to harm him, had been present to some extent since she was a child.

“Have you talked to him about taking those recently?” she asked knowing her grandmother would have.

“No… I can’t change his mind.”

Tata didn’t even look at her answering. Her grandmother wasn’t a woman to ever give up, especially on her precious son’s health. So, what had changed? Where was this new decision coming from?

Ada didn’t stay long after that. A wall had been erected between them during recent years. How could you make a woman admit that she birthed and raised a monster?

She went into the garden to kiss her grandfather, who never wanted to be involved in their family affairs, and was happy to pretend the world was limited to his garden and chess dates with his cousin. She couldn’t resent him too much even though he mentally abandoned her and her little brother. He was simply a soft man. She naughtily stole a few strawberries off the bush before running away listening to her grandpa yell not to eat unwashed fruit.

Brushing hair before bed was the newest self-care Ada had been trying to force herself into. Standing in front of the long mirror she was slowly running the large brush through the brown thickness. It was the same length it had always been since Tata had forbidden her to get haircuts of her choice until she was eighteen. Only once had she begged for a curve instead of the straight line at the bottom and was the happiest little girl who kept admiring that slight change in the mirrors of their house. At some point in the day when she had stopped in front of a mirror yet again, her father had started roaring how she was a selfish egocentric vain female and had slapped her. She had been mortified understanding how vain she had been after finding out that her father had spilled coffee on himself and instead of noticing and helping, she had been too occupied with her own appearance. She hadn’t cried though, she never did.

The brush was stuck midair as Ada contemplated herself in the mirror.