chapter 22

Tali's POV

After Luka made me laugh and Dayne stared at me for the longest time, he growled at Luka, and they both went off. When Dayne reappeared, he was alone, and he was even more growly than usual when he snapped at me to get up.

The pack run was over and we were going back to the house.

That was three days ago now, and I've barely seen Luka at all. I haven't seen much of Dayne either, but that's okay, I'm not complaining about how much time he's spending in his office with Luka since it's leaving me all the time in the world to explore my new home, and the forests.

It's even given me an opportunity to find a new friend in Regan. At least, I think we're friends, not that I've had many of those over the years.

She was waiting for me in the kitchen the morning after the run when I staggered down the stairs, still half-asleep.

Dayne had an unreadable expression on his face when he saw I had someone helping me make breakfast, which he warned me would be my new job going forward.

But he did nothing to stop Regan from showing me how to crack eggs without getting half the shells in the mix while on his way to his office.

Maybe it's a pity that has volunteered to be my friend, but I don't care.

I don't even mind cooking because Regan prefers to do the eggs and bacon, and I like mixing batter and doughs for pancakes and muffins. I like how scientific it feels to weigh all the ingredients out and take care to do it right.

I'm not expecting to make anything as good as the pie from the diner, or the cakes that Keith in my old pack used to make. This isn't about me being a pastry chef or making a career of it, but I like the control itSuperGrok gives me. I like knowing that I'm capable of doing something that turns out good, instead of messing it up the way I do everything else.

Things can still go wrong, of course, too long in the oven, or mixing too much, or not mixing enough. But mostly, it turns out okay, and even Dayne will pick up a muffin I've baked and bite into it without inspecting it for several seconds as he did the first and second day. What he's looking for, I’m not sure maybe eggshells?

One afternoon just before dinner, while Dayne is doing whatever keeps him so busy in his office, he's staying up so late into the night that I rarely see him except at meals, I let Regan talk me into chilling in the den with the rest of the pack who are chatting and playing a game on the PlayStation 4, instead of hanging out by the lake.

It's not a place I feel comfortable in yet.

Like I said, being around people isn't easy for me, and I'm conscious I'm still an outsider to the pack, even though I'm Dayne's mate.

The rest of the pack has to know Dayne isn't showing the least bit of interest in me since I'm not wearing his scent, even though we've been sleeping in the same bed every night since I arrived.

While sharing the worn couch with Regan, when she asks about mine and Dayne's mating ceremony, I think nothing of telling her it was a traditional moon-blessing since none of them were there for it.

Distracted watching as a man with a scar running down one eye, long white-gray hair, and a sword battles with a towering beast-like creature on the wide-screen TV, it takes me a while to notice I've become the center of attention.

Regan clears her throat. "You mean you and Dayne had se "

"Yes," I say, still staring at the game The Witcher, I think one of the packs said it was called. "We did."

When the beast launches a sudden attack and the white-haired guy does nothing to defend himself, I glance over at Marshall, the guy I thought was Miller, the pack's third. I find the reason he's stopped tapping at the controls is to stare at me. And he's not alone.

But that's not all I've missed in my total absorption watching the game.

All conversation, laughter, all sound in the den has ground to a halt.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I ask, as I take in the now silent pack spread out all over the couches, and stretched out on the thick wool rugs on the floor.

"Wrong? What could be wrong with an outdated ceremony that only serves to humiliate "

"Regan." It's Dayne, and in his voice is a growl of warning.

Regan promptly shuts up and I turn to find him standing in the doorway where he's silently appeared.

"I don't understand," I say into the silence. "It's a traditional ceremony. All the packs do it."

"Maybe they did in the eighteenth century," someone, it sounds like Marshall, mutters under his breath.

Dayne doesn't bother with words this time. His growl is low and silences the room better than words can, leaving behind a faint taint of fear. And not all of it is mine.

Regan's words are rattling around in my head. Confusing me, yes, but unnerving me even more with a truth I'm not sure I want to or even sure that I'm ready to face.

What does she mean no one does the ceremony anymore? How do couples mate if not under the moon? For once my need for answers overcomes my fear.

"Are you saying there's another ceremony?" I ask no one in particular.

"Talis." Dayne is all alpha when he says my name, in expectation of perfect obedience. Of submission.

My eyes meet Dayne's, and he's gazing back at me steadily.

Seeing the look in his eyes, I know it's pointless to expect an answer from him. He's warned the others to not say anymore, so why would he shut them up if he wanted me to know the truth of the moon-blessing ceremony?

But that doesn’t stop me from turning away, my eyes searching the quiet room.

"There is, isn't there? Dayne and I didn't need to have sex in front of the pack. That's what you meant, isn’t it?"

No one answers, and no one will meet my eyes. But just before Jenna turns her face away from me, I catch the unmistakable pity flashing across her face. And that's when I know.