The Alpha And Her Tinkerer

3_My Weapon

Hayden POV

The girl looks at me with a stoic expression, and I am squirming in my skin. Have I overstepped by asking such a personal question?

Mesmerised, I stare at her. I cannot help myself. She is breathtakingly beautiful. She is barefoot, wearing one of my old, baggy t-shirts that barely covers her hips. Her eyes are like peridots washed by lake water, calm, and bright and electricity races through my pores.

I cannot tell what is going on in that pretty little head of hers, but she must think I am a loser and a total klutz. I mean, first my dog embarrasses me, then I fall over my feet like a newborn deer, and then I put my foot in my mouth and ask a very personal question. f**k, why did I not start by introducing myself? Or ask her name?

Okay, I know why. She is so f*****g hot that my brain is frazzled, and I cannot think straight.

“No,” she replies softly after what feels like an eternity, and I sigh in relief. I would have felt like the world’s biggest i***t if she could not speak after asking the question so bluntly.

I get lost in her eyes again, admiring her thick, distinct eyelashes, her slightly upturned nose, and soft lips. Goddess, I am dying to touch her.

“So, would you like a sandwich?” I ask, clearing my throat and pulling myself together. “Or would you like something else for breakfast?”

“A sandwich, please,” she replies after a moment of thought.

“Okay,” I smile, bending over to pick up the groceries I knocked over.

She ignores me and wanders around the cottage with Pudding on her heels. She seems so calm that it is almost unnatural.

“Do you eat bacon?” I ask politely. I have not heard of a vegetarian wolf before, but I have f****d up so much already that I do not dare assume.

“Yes,” she replies, and I wonder if she always has one-word conversations.

“So, I’m Hayen,” I introduce myself, placing the bacon in the pan.

“Reeva,” she answers, but does not turn around, and I admire the sunlight shining on her thick hair, giving it a wine-like hue.

“Where are you from?” I continue, but am taken aback when she turns around and stares at me. Her mouth is tightly shut, with a sharp, cold glint in her eyes which scares me a little.

“I’m asking because I found you in Berrigan Woods,” I explain. “It’s a cemetery for rogue wolves, so I hope you don’t blame me for being curious.”

Her eyes redden, and she looks like she can kill. So, I shut my damn mouth and open the refrigerator to get eggs.

“Where is this place?” She asks when I turn around, and the ice in her voice startles me.

“Pebble Creek,” I reply.

“Which pack does it belong to?” She asks, making me feel like I am a prisoner being interrogated.

“Redbeech Pack,” I reply. Damn, I even sound like a prisoner. “It’s on the Eastern border.”

“So, you belong to the Redbeech Pack?” She asks.

“Yeah,” I reply, clearing my throat and lowering my gaze. The truth is that my brothers kicked me out of the pack two years ago. Even though I still have contact with the pack, my brothers barely acknowledge my existence. They think a twenty-four-year-old wolf who has never shifted is an anomaly and a disgrace to the family and pack. “Sort of.”

“So, do you often pick up dead people and bring them home?” She asks dryly, but her eyes are blazing dangerously. “What are you? A taxidermist or a necrophiliac?”

Her question shocks me to my core, but I keep my composure.

“Neither,” I reply firmly.

“Then why did you bring me here?” She insists, her voice firm as steel.

“For starters, you had a pulse,” I reply stiffly. “It’s not in my nature to let living things die.”

“And?” She asks.

“And what?” I frown.

“You said for starters,” she explains. “That means there’s more.”

“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” I reply, exhaling deeply.

“Try me,” she insists.

I take a moment considering my options. She is going to think I am bat s**t crazy and an all-time loser if I tell her the truth. But then, she probably does not have the highest opinion of me to begin with.

“My wolf is dormant,” I blurt out. “I haven’t heard or felt him in two years. But when I saw you, I sensed him. That was reason enough for me to bring you here.”

“Why’s your wolf dormant?” She asks directly, and my gut tightens. That is not the kind of information I want to share during a first meeting.

“Why were you unconscious in a cemetery?” I counteract. She has not answered one of my questions, besides her name, and I have shared more than I cared to.

“Touche,” she smirks, and I am taken aback by her beauty once again.

“Breakfast’s ready,” I say, holding a plate out to her.

We sit at the dining table and eat in silence. Reeva eats hungrily and finishes her sandwich in seconds.

"Would you like more?” I offer.

"No, thanks." She replies. “It was good, thank you.”

"What are you doing on the computer?" She asks, looking past me at my workstation, her emerald eyes lighting up. “Is that a 3D printer?”

“Yes,” I reply dryly, scratching my head. “That's part of my job. People in the pack always have some old things that are broken or lost. I can restore them. It's not difficult. Basically, I do some repair work."

“Great,” Reeva exclaims, jumps up and walks to my computer.

Stunned, I follow her. I did not expect her to praise me so highly.

“That’s a lamp for Mr Smith,” I explain, pointing to the blueprint she is looking at. “He inherited it from his grandmother, and a piece broke. So, now I’m fixing it.”

“Impressive,” she mutters, looking around with interest.

"It's actually not that difficult,” I reply, sheepishly. Honestly, it is not that impressive, and it is embarrassing how much I revel in her praise. “I know a little bit about modelling. All I need is a blueprint, enough time, and the right materials. A ring, or a missing part of a necklace. You might not believe this, but I've restored teeth, car parts, discontinued chargers … oh, and I've even helped soldiers repair weapons and stuff."

She does not reply, and I feel like an i***t when I turn around and walk to the dining room table to clean up. She was polite when she complimented my work, and I fell for it. Damn, I am stupid! Why would a girl like her be impressed by a geek and his printer?

Silently kicking myself for my naivety, I wash the dishes and put them away. But when I turn around, Reeva is standing behind me with a piece of paper and a glow in her eyes that takes my breath away.

"Can you make this?" she asks, placing a rough sketch she has made of something that looks like a boomerang in front of me.

"What is this?" I wipe my hands and pick up her homemade blueprint.

"My weapon," she smiles, her freckles gleaming in the sunlight.