chapter 19

Tali's POV

The cars are pulling up outside the house at a little after six-thirty, but I'm done. I've cooked breakfast for the pack. And as someone who has approximately zero experience cooking breakfast for even one person, let alone for ten or more, it's gone about as well as I'd expected it to go. Which is to say, not well at all.

As I take in the devastation in the sink, the eggshells on the counter, bacon grease on the back-splash, six different pans in the sink, I feel a presence come up behind me.

"You weren't kidding about not being able to cook, were you?" a voice says with a low whistle.

To no one's surprise, it's Dayne.

Spinning around, I find him eyeing the total annihilation of his kitchen and start backing away as I wait for the inevitable explosion.

Lazily, he reaches out and snags my wrist, tugging me toward him with so little effort, once again it hits me how much stronger he is than my Uncle.

I close my eyes, half turning away from him as I brace myself for whatever he decides to do to me, knowing I'm powerless to stop him.

"What happened?" he asks in his usual low, growly voice.

I don't immediately open my eyes, and it's only when he flips my wrist that I realize he must be talking about the burn on my arm, do I crack my eyes open to find I'm right.

He's staring down at the long burn on my forearm, which is still pretty red and sore but isn't half as painful as it was ten minutes ago.

As a shifter, we heal faster than ordinary humans, even a shifter like me who doesn't change any more. In an hour, there won't be the slightest scar or mark left behind.

A bigger injury, like a broken bone or a deep cut, would take a couple more hours. Other wounds take more or less time to heal, depending on the size and the location.

With the life I've had, I've got extensive experience in how long it takes to heal most types of injuries.

Seeing Dayne isn't about to lash out at me for destroying his kitchen, the tension in my shoulders eases a little. Only a little, though, because it's Dayne Blackshaw who has a hold of me, and I know what those bare hands are capable of.

"The bacon pan," I mumble.

He lifts his head and stares at me.

Clearing my throat when I realize what I've said isn't so much of a sentence as a fragment of one, I try again, "I was chopping peppers and accidentally burnt myself on the side of the bacon pan."

He bends his gaze to my arm for another long moment. "What peppers?"

Since he doesn't look about to kill me, a little more of my tension slips away. "To go in the eggs."

When he glances over at the long wooden dining table on one side of the kitchen, near the glass sliding doors which lead to the back of the house, I can guess what he's about to say before he speaks.

"I don't see peppers."

He's right. On the dining table are dishes filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. There is not a green pepper to be found anywhere on it.

"That's because they aren't in the eggs," I mutter, lowering my head as I hear the pack coming in the front door.

"So, where are they?" he asks.

The pack pause at the entrance of the kitchen, and I try my hardest to ignore their presence.

"Talis," Dayne asks, "where are the peppers?"

"Outside," I mutter, my face hot.

Without a word, Dayne drops my arm to cross the kitchen. He slides open the glass doors, and I stand there, watching him scan outside before his eyes fix on the eggs I burned while trying to save the bacon from a similar fate.

"Why did you throw it outside?"

I can't believe I'm having to say all of this with the pack standing at the entrance listening, witnessing my utter humiliation. "I thought the birds might want it."

There's a painfully long silence before he speaks. "Evidently not."

I clear my throat. "I guess they weren't hungry," I murmur because it's the only thing that makes the knowledge my cooking is so bad even the natural wildlife won't have anything to do with it bearable.

Thankfully, Dayne has nothing more to offer, although I'm aware there's plenty he could say, and I'm beyond grateful for his continued silence since there's only so much a girl can take.

Eventually, one of the pack clears her throat.

Turning, I meet the eyes of one girl with auburn hair who was waiting outside the front of the house. She's holding a large white paper bag, and she's not alone, most of the pack are holding bags, and the bags smell of food. Baked goods like fruit pies or muffins.

"We all appreciate you going to the effort of surprising us with breakfast, but on Fridays, we usually just grab pies and pastries from the diner in town."

I stare at her without blinking. Although I can see how uncomfortable this makes her, I can't stop myself. It feels like my brain is short-circuiting… or something.

"Didn't Dayne tell you?"

Glancing at the sliding door, I find Dayne studying me closely.

I was woken at six, rushed through a five-minute shower, tossed clothes on so fast it's a wonder I didn't cause myself an injury, got so stressed I burnt everything including myself, and now I'm being told I needn't have bothered to do any of it?

He's even worse than Uncle Glynn. At least I knew where I stood with Uncle Glynn. But, Dayne… he's toying with me in a completely different way. A way that's getting to me far faster than anything Uncle Glynn ever did.

I haven’t even been here two days yet and I’m ready to kill him. And that’s just my human side. My wolf? She’d eviscerate him in a fucking heartbeat.

Cold-blooded alpha is right. What an asshole.

The feeling of claws scraping at my insides is enough to have me dropping my gaze from Dayne's.

"No," I murmur, my voice low. "I guess he must have forgot."