chapter 20

Tali's POV

After Dayne examined the coffee I made, he thrust the pot at Luka and demanded he make a fresh one.

Everyone carefully avoided looking in my direction when he did it, but it wasn't hard for me to guess the direction of their thoughts: Talis, not only is she a terrible cook, she's an even worse coffee-maker, so much so, one glance at the coffee pot is enough for their alpha to know not to even bother tasting it first.

"So, Talis. Will you be running with us tonight?" Luka asks me once he's made a fresh pot of coffee and joins us at the twelve-seater oak dining table in the light and airy kitchen. In the frenzy of this morning, I’ve noted that the cabinets are made of the same wood as the bedroom.

I tear my gaze from my slice of blueberry pie to glance at him. Not much of it has made its way into my mouth since I'm so hyper-aware of how close Dayne's black t-shirt covered arm is to brushing against mine as he sits beside me at the dining table. But what little I've tasted is enough to convince me whoever the baker at the diner is, they're truly talented.

It's the best pie I've ever tasted in my life, which, considering the person who did the cooking in my old pack, Keith, was for a short time a pastry chef at one of the best restaurants in the city, is saying something.

"Running tonight?" I repeat unnecessarily. Anything to buy me some time to think about what I'm about to say.

I'd expected this to come up eventually, but I hoped I'd have had a little more time before talking about it.

"Yes," Luka says, on his fourth slice of pie.

I shrug and look away, focusing on the food spread out in front of me.

It didn't take long for everyone to shift the bowls of mostly inedible breakfast to the butcher's block island in the center of the kitchen to make space for the pies, pastries, and muffins they picked up from the diner. Which explains why Dayne had to go now.

Although it was on the tip of my tongue to argue the toast was okay, once I got a look at the expression on the pack’s faces, I realized they thought differently. Relief, if I had to guess, that they didn't have to eat it. So, I snapped my mouth shut and resolutely stayed silent.

Not that there's anything wrong with a few burnt edges, it's easy enough to brush them off.

They must not all live in the farmhouse then, for none of them to have been at the house already. Although my nose told me there were other shifters in the house after Dayne left to go into town, which explains his lack of worry I'd try to run again, I haven't been around the pack long enough to identify them by scent yet.

Since the blonde woman he was talking with outside on the porch the woman who triggered my need to run isn't around the breakfast table, I can't help but imagine that Dayne's reason for heading to town has to do with her.

Maybe he was taking her home or something?

But whatever the reason, I'm just glad she isn't here.

Last night, after Dayne ordered me back to the house, I didn't see any of the pack, though I heard low muffled voices coming from the den.

No doubt because they were trying to avoid attracting their alpha's attention after I'd pissed him off by forcing him to go after his new mate in the torrential rain. So, it didn't surprise me in the least when no one came out as I passed the closed door, dripping water and mud all over the floor.

I'd guess maybe half of them lived at the farmhouse, which was how it was in my old pack after Jenna pointed out several closed bedroom doors on our way up to Dayne's room.

There were six she said altogether, though there were a few cabins out in the forest that were pretty basic which some of the pack liked to stay in when they wanted more privacy, or if they didn't want to make the drive back into town.

"I don't shift," I finally say softly, keeping my gaze on the mess my fork is making of the pie on my white plate. A blueberry war has been fought there.

"I'm sorry." It's Luka again, sounding confused. "I didn't know you were late, I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

He means it. Listening to the genuine apology in his voice makes me raise my head despite my intention to say what I need to say, and find an excuse to leave before anyone pushes for any details. But the beta's kindness Luka's response makes me forget that in an instant.

Kindness.

Genuine kindness is so rare that I don't know how to react to it. So, I just blink at him for a second, not sure what to do with it, as a part of me waits for him to twist it around or use it to hurt me. I'm far too used to someone saying something nice, being friendly as a way to soften me up first.

Mostly, it was the guys in my old pack who treated me like that. Flirting with me, calling me pretty, telling me the things I was desperate to believe were true, like I was beautiful, but then seconds later, making me aware their words had a price. One far higher than I was prepared to pay, and when I refused, they took great pleasure in crushing me with their cruel words.

"Talis isn't latent." Dayne's voice is a low growl, and I immediately drop my fork in surprise since he's said nothing since he demanded Luka make the coffee.

"No, I'm not latent," I admit.

It's easier when I'm just talking to Luka. He has kind eyes. I think that must be why.

"But you don't shift?" It's another of the pack. Miller, I think, is his name. They introduced themselves to me when I first got here, and again earlier in the kitchen, but there are so many of them, and both times I've been under extreme stress that it's hard to keep track of everyone's names.

Another strike against me. I'm supposed to be Luna of the pack the female alpha, and I don't even know everyone in my pack's name. Shaking my head, I pick up my fork before going back to rolling a blueberry around my plate.

"No. I don't shift."

"Since your parents were killed?" Jenna asks, her voice low, sweet.

Although I don't look up from my plate, it isn't hard to picture her wide blue eyes are soft with sympathy as she twirls a lock of her strawberry-blonde hair around her finger as I've seen her do it before.

I'm not surprised they've heard about my family. It isn't often hunters kill a mated pair the way my parents were, so the news would have spread amongst most, if not all, the packs in the states. Mainly to serve as a warning to never let your guard down, not even for a second.

Again, I shake my head. "No. It's not as long ago as that."

I could lie. It would be easier to come up with a story about why I can't shift and then I know they wouldn't push for answers I'm not prepared to give, but I can't do that.

Mainly, it's me not being sure about what Uncle Glynn has told Dayne about my history, and the other part is knowing if I lied, he would know.

Then there's the small matter of risking sparking his curiosity. The last thing I want is to do anything, say anything, to make Dayne curious about why I don't shift.

"I don't get it, then why " One of the pack, I don't see who, doesn't sound like they're going to drop it.

Since Dayne is silent beside me, I guess he's as interested in the answer as the pack member asking the question; I decide I need to cut this off quick before this conversation ends up going where I don't need or want it to go.

" Trauma," I interrupt, reasoning my answer is close enough to the truth to hide my lie, "I I had a traumatic experience."

It's dangerous. I know someone is going to tell me how dangerous it is to not shift. It causes an imbalance, and sooner, rather than later, consequences will follow.

Consequences like fighting back an enraged wolf eager to burst free and do untold damage to everyone around her.

So, when someone stirs from the end of the table, I shake my head. "It's to do with my parents. I can't talk about it."

Yes, I'm not above using the death of my parents to hide secrets I'd rather not share. With anyone, least of all, Dayne fucking Blackshaw.