Sarah
I can’t remember the last time I felt full.
I look down at the plate in front of me, which Cosette is piling with food for a third time. A piece of lusciously dark chocolate cake stares up at me while she arranges a scoop of vanilla ice cream next to it.
Everything is homemade.
Everything is delicious and filling.
I take a bite and close my eyes, fighting the urge to moan.
Cosette clucks in approval, and as I finish off the cake and ice cream, I wonder what she’s going to bring me next. I couldn’t possibly eat another bite, but after weeks of the occasional bowl of oatmeal and scrambled eggs, I’ll keep eating her food if she wants me to.
But she brings me a cup of tea spiked with warm milk and so much sugar it makes my teeth tingle as I take a sip. She sits across from me at the snug kitchen table, stirring her own cup as her dark eyes look over me critically.
“Are you feeling better?” she asks lightly, her spoon clinking against her cup.
My mouth feels odd. There’s a slight metallic taste I can’t place.
“I am,” I reply, leaning back. The kitchen is softly lit with warm, light wood finishes and white marble countertops. It’s comforting here, and I’m at ease in the soft glow of the lights and Cosette’s company. I can tell this is her domain. It smells like her–like the homemade bread she bakes throughout the day and the teas and spices she has on hand.
She sips her tea, testing the flavor, before adding another heaping spoonful of sugar.
I can’t help but glance at the darkened doorway leading into the formal dining room, which in turn leads to a sitting room, then the foyer. For whatever reason, I imagined an Alpha, let alone the prince of Crescent Falls, would live somewhere more opulent. I’ve been here since this morning and haven’t come across a single golden sconce or bust carved in Sydney’s likeness.
This is a home, not a palace.
But I remind myself for the thousandth time that I can’t let myself get comfortable.
I sit up a little straighter. Cosette notices my sudden change in demeanor and lifts a brow. “Are you waiting for me to tell you that you’re going to be cuffed and hauled away? Well, you’re not.”
“I don’t understand why I’m here in Alpha Sydney’s house, though,” I reply, curling my hands around the warm cup of tea. I take another sip, and the inside of my mouth tingles again.
Cosette sighs heavily and gives me a motherly smile. “You’re here because Alpha Sydney wouldn’t have ever left you and your son in the conditions you were trapped in.”
“It doesn’t seem right,” I retort, my cheeks flushing as a warm sensation prickles through my body.
Cosette makes a mean cup of tea.
I finish it off while she watches me drain the very last sip, looking pleased.
“He’s not like most Alphas, I can admit that,” she says, stirring the sugar into her cup in lazy circles. “He’s young, you know. He’ll be twenty-two this spring.”
I nod along to her words. She pours me a second cup of tea heavy on the milk and sugar, which I greedily accept.
She continues, “You’d think an Alpha so young would be off partying and chasing women or getting in fights with other packs for no reason, but Alpha Sydney is different. He’s the quiet type. He likes order, yes, but he’s kind and protective over his pack.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want you to know, before you make up some delusion in your head about him and his intentions, that he’s a kind, brave, and selfless man. He brought you here because you were in danger and has tasked me to see to your care until you’re well enough to leave. You and your son.”
I take a drink. This cup doesn’t have the same kick that the last one did, but I’m feeling lighter than air and rather sleepy when I drain it.
Silence cloaks the room, only adding to the fatigue now creeping into every joint and muscle.
“Can I ask you about your son?”
I glance up at Cosette as she gathers the tea service off the table and turns toward the large, porcelain sink.
“You want to know why I’m alone–”
“No, honey. That’s your business to tell. What kind of baby is he? Does he sleep well, nurse well?”
“Nursing–it hurts. I was told it would get better but…” I trail off as tears suddenly sting my eyes. All I’ve had the past few weeks has been Hadley, who knows nothing about pregnancy and babies. The midwives at the clinic in the NZ tried to help me, but I was in so much pain and so disoriented after my son came into the world that I forgot practically everything they told me about his care, and mine.
Then I was on my own, in a freezing cold apartment, with no money and no one around to give me the support I probably should have had.
“I was going to give him up,” I say before I can stop myself.
Cosette turns off the sink and sighs but doesn’t turn back to me.
Feeling like I have to explain myself now, I continue, “I had a family picked out and everything, but then the attacks here and in Eastonia happened and I….” I’ve been alone for so long. My friends faded away once it became obvious I was pregnant. I couldn’t–wouldn’t–tell them who the father was because it didn’t matter.
I knew, from the moment I sank to my knees in the bathroom gripping the positive pregnancy test, that I was doing this on my own.
“I couldn’t do it,” I whisper, roughly wiping a tear from my cheek. “It was so selfish of me. I wasn’t ready for a baby. I thought I was. My business boomed all summer. I had money saved up. I started looking for a bigger apartment, a bigger space for my shop, but then winter came, and everything changed. By then, I was so pregnant. I was sick all the time, and Mr. Foxglove was squeezing me for more and more money. He threatened to kick Eloise out of her apartment because she couldn’t pay, so I paid her rent too and…” I hang my head in my hands, choking back a sob.
Cosette lays a hand on my back–calming and gentle. It’s the kind of touch I’m not familiar with, a touch that brings torrent of faded memories of a time when I was loved rushing back to the surface of my mind.
“I lost my mate during the war twenty-two years ago,” she says softly, her touch sweeping over my shoulder as she sits down beside me.
I peek at her through my fingers to find her smiling, but her eyes are wan and damp with unshed tears. “I was twenty-three and had recently found him. He was the son of a seamstress, and both of his parents had passed. He ran her shop, and I’d come looking for work. And there he was, my mate. It was love at first sight in so many ways.”
Her eyes crease with pleasure as she tells me how they married soon after and ran the shop together.
“It was the most blissful five years of my life,” she admits, her eyes shining with those memories, “but then the attacks began. When Alpha King Isaac called on his kingdom to fight, my mate… he was ready to protect our home and me.” Her hand slides absently to her belly and her smile fades.
“He left for training camp while I stayed behind sewing uniforms and armor for the army. I found out I was pregnant shortly after he left. I didn’t want to tell him through a letter. He promised he’d come back, and I believed him. I decided to keep the pregnancy a secret so I could surprise him when he came through the door again.”
My heart quakes as I watch despair and grief fill her eyes. “But the only man who darkened my doorway in the weeks that followed was a commander who’d come to tell me my mate had died at war.”
So, Cosette was alone. In the years following the war, a great rebuilding effort took place in Crescent Falls. Things like fine clothing were shoved to the side so packs could be rebuilt, new territories opened to replace fallen packs and their Alphas, and her business suffered to the point she shuttered the shop that held so many memories.
“I started working in the house of Beta Cassian and his mate, Hannah,” she says with a smile, dabbing at her tears. “Such kind people. My daughter ran wild on their property until she was old enough for school, and the royal family paid for her tuition for a boarding school nearby. She recently graduated from Wellington University and is going to be a physician.” Pride shines from her eyes, bright enough to light up the room. “Her father would have been so proud. But I nearly gave her up, too.”
“You did?”
Cosette nods, closing her hands around mine on the table between us. “I was young and scared. I had no money, no family. I felt like I was doing her a disservice by keeping her. I was so grief-stricken in those early years of her life. I often wondered if she would have been better off without me… but she was the only part of her father I had left, so I hung on.”
Her fingers stroke mine in a comforting touch. But I’m starting to tremble, full of guilt and stress.
“You’re going to be fine,” she tells me steadily, smiling.
“You don’t know that,” I argue in a near whisper. “I’ve lost everything. I can’t support him without my shop.”
“You have support now. Here–with us! Don’t you see?” She waves a hand toward the ceiling. “Dalia is one of eight siblings if you can believe it. The oldest, too. She loves babies and will make the best mother one day, but she’s eighteen and far too young to find her mate yet, so for now, this is a dream for her. Let her dote on–” she pauses, arching a brow at me. “What is your son’s name?”
“He doesn’t have a name,” I tell her, realizing how ridiculous it sounds.
“Well, it’s very hard to name babies. There is no rush on that. Anyway,” she smiles, patting my hands. “Let us help you. I understand it’s difficult to let go of the reins and accept the support you need, but you just had the baby and have been a practical popsicle for the past week. Take this time to rest. Everything else will work itself out.”
She’s right. I do need this time to rest and heal. I’ve been in pain for the past week. I’ve been hungry, tired, and cold. I haven’t had a chance to heal from the birth that took place just over a week ago.
“Come now, let’s get you to bed. I’ll have a nurse from Shadowcrest come here tomorrow morning to help you get the hang of nursing, all right?”
All I can do is nod as she guides me through the quiet, dark house. It’s after sunset. Snow falls in dizzying spirals through the windows as we walk upstairs and down the hallway to my guest room.
Dalia slips out of one of the doors, nodding without saying a word as she closes the door gently and walks past us.
I haven’t heard her speak a word yet, but her quiet demeanor adds another layer of comfort I hadn’t realized I’d needed.
Neither of these women have pried. Sure, Cosette asked about the baby, but that came after making sure I was clean, comfortable, and fed to the point of bursting.
The borrowed pajamas drag on the floor as Cosette coaxes me into bed, tucking me in like I’m nothing more than a child.
I half expect her to give me a little kiss on the forehead and read me a bedtime story, but she turns off the lamp beside the bed and leaves the room without so much as saying goodnight.
I slip into sleep so quickly it catches me off guard. My body goes numb, my legs suddenly so heavy I couldn’t get out of bed if I tried.
But I wake hours later to voices outside my door.
I might be dreaming because it’s Alpha Sydney’s voice I hear–calm, steady, but stern all the same.
“The baby is in good health and sleeping,” Cosette whispers. “You don’t need to worry about that, Your Grace. She was able to pump a few ounces of milk. It was enough for the night. Dalia and I are taking shifts.”
“Good. I don’t want her disturbed until morning.”
“I did what you asked me to do,” Cosette says after a breath, lowering her voice to the point I have to strain to hear. “Your grandmother’s tears made her tired, but I didn’t notice any dramatic effects. Whatever plagues her is internal, in her head. I’m sure this is all very traumatic.”
“Did she tell you anything about the boy’s father?”
“Of course, not. I didn’t even ask.”
“You should have–”
“Ask her yourself in the morning if you’re so curious,” Cosette snaps, which causes me to sit up a little, my head spinning from exhaustion as I ride on the edge of sleep. “She’s alone from what I understand. No family nearby. Also, she hasn’t come into her wolf powers yet, Alpha.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positively sure. She’s young. Twenty, maybe. I’m sure with a few days of rest and not being hounded by the same kind of incessant questions you’re asking me, she’ll be willing to open up a bit.”
“I’m not hounding you, Cosette.”
“You’re exceedingly worked up, Alpha Sydney.” There’s a slight sly edge to her voice. “Is there something you’d like to tell me about this woman?”
“Goodnight, Cosette,” he says gruffly.
I’m asleep again before his footsteps stop sounding in the hallway.