The Orphan Mate

Breakfast

*CHLOE POV*

Asher is the first to speak once the perfect little family is seated. I am so hungry.

Asher: “Good Morning Mother, Father. How are you?”.

Victoria: “I’m well, my sweet boy, just need some coffee, and long as it’s not burnt and cold”. She throws a smug side glance at me. Starting early I see. I keep my face neutral. A mask.

Alaric: “Well? Is it burnt? Cold?” He asks in a firm, gravely morning voice.

Chloe: “No Alpha, the coffee is hot and freshly brewed.” I make eye contact with Alaric, then when I’m done speaking I keep my head tilted down. Not daring to look at them again, it’ll be seen as a sign of disobedience.

Victoria: “If you’re so confident, then pour it. Now.” She sniped with a smug sly smile.

I walk over, gently pick up the coffee pot in the big insulated pitcher, and pour carefully. Alaric reaches his over and I pour his mug too. It smells so good. I want a cup myself, but only cold, old coffee with the leftover grounds is the quality I’m able to receive. My stomach growls. I stop dead, catching the sound. Embarrassed it was in front of all of them. Perfect ammunition to take some shots at me. I set the coffee pitcher down. And step back to the wall keeping quiet. Hoping it brushes over. I see the triplets look at each other and smile. They’re f*****g mind linking about me. Smooth.

Luke: “You’d think there was a f*****g earthquake with that sound huh? Think the next town over heard it?”. Funny. So funny.

I don’t allow any emotion to take over my face. I don’t know why, but that kind of hurt. He’s made other jokes. Harsher. Why did this one hurt?

I don’t falter my eyes. I pretend nothing was said.

His brother beside him bellow a low chuckle. All three look over at me. I don’t move. The laughter dies out.

Alaric: “Enough boys, let’s eat before it gets cold.” His face is stoic as he gazes over his choices.

They all self serve their meals of what they specifically want. Pancakes, sausage links, scrambled eggs, waffles, bacon, assorted fruit, orange juice, and coffee.

Grayson: “Where are the bagels?” He’s staring at me. I look up, shocked. That wasn’t requested. They don’t like store bought. I have to hand make them. It’s a b***h of a process on top of everything else I have to prepare.

Chloe: “I uh- it wasn’t made?” I stammer.

Grayson: “And why is that?” He questions me flatly. You could hear a pin drop it was so quiet.

Chloe: “That’s not a common food to prepare. That would make it a special request. It wasn’t requested.” I say calmly.

Grayson: “Well now, it’s requested. So go.” He remarked.

I groan internally and try my damn best not to roll my eyes. Like really. You couldn’t have asked sooner than now? I give a curt nod and walk back into the kitchen. I’m pissed off. Grayson is the nicest triplet towards me. And he really lost a tick on his nice boy board. Luke? Sure, to be expected. Asher? Maybe. But Grayson? Dumbfounded. I wonder if they know my birthday is tomorrow. They’ve been avoiding me a lot this past year, but more so these last couple of months. They look at me differently. And I don’t know why. I’m really intuitive, but I haven’t put my finger on it yet, but I’ll find out. I always do. I wash my hands, and prep to make the bagels. I haven’t heard my name be hollered, so I’m assuming they’re carrying out with breakfast perfectly fine (wish they’d act like that everyday, they know they don’t need me to serve them, they do it out of spite). It takes me about to 10mins to mix, and knead the dough, I let it sit for about 45mins, when it should be 1-1.5hrs, reshape, and rest for 15mins. I then boil for a few mins and then bake for about 20mins. I cut every short cut that I could to make these bagels as fast as I can. About an hour and a half goes by, and when they’re done, I put them stacked on a big tray, and bring them out. No one there. They’re all gone. With everything left out. Old, cold, and messy. Lovely. So they can serve themselves, but cant stack all the dirty plates and silverware? Classy. I bring the tray back, and stack them in a clear, elegant, round display case to try to maintain their freshness. The batch made a dozen. Yet I squeezed out a bakers dozen. I’m glad I didn’t make two dozen. Of course Grayson requested this on purpose. I go back out and gather the discarded items on the dining room table. I gaze over the remains that I can scavenge. Not much to choose from. The eggs are cold and gross, and I realize there’s nothing else left. Just little baby crumbs of what was there. Thanks guys. Well they don’t know I made a bakers dozen, so I throw all the dirty dishes into the sink, and quickly eat one bagel. It’s delicious. Fresh bagels are the best. I don’t bother with butter, if I linger too long while I try to eat, and anyone catches me; I don’t want to endure what they’ll do in retaliation. Just a form of mental abuse with intimidation and food. Totally healthy thing to do to someone. I shove the last bite into my mouth, as I start scrubbing the dishes. I hear the kitchen door swoosh, and I smell the triplets scent. Asher has an amber tone, Luke is jasmine, and Grayson is lavender. Those smells are nice even not on them, but mixed with my scent, vanilla, it mixes into theirs so nicely. I keep that comment to myself and Storm. She notices they came in too and she stays on guard. She’s been different too. Her interest is peaked around them. She says that she can feel their wolf’s stir when they see me and it gives a suspicious vibe. She’s the best protector I could ever have. Storm has healed me more times than I could count. I heal fast and have the ability to heal others. Healers are moon goddess kissed. The gift granted from the mood goddess, Selene. A rare gift to be granted. I haven’t told anyone I can, except when Erin gave herself a third degree burn, by accident, I miraculously was able to heal her. We were both stunned. She vowed to never tell a soul. Healers can be great allies to packs, but some get used and abused of their gift. Given my lower status, I wouldn’t be the fortunate one. I don’t want there to be any excuse to stay in this pack. By choice or not. In a couple of weeks I should have enough money to leave. I also couldn’t be a minor anymore, my birthday being tomorrow is the next box to check in my plan to get the f**k out of this s**t hole.

Grayson: “The bagels smell so nice.” He walked up right next to me, on my left looking into my eyes.

Chloe: “That’s kind of you to say.” I reply, keeping my eyes down at the dishes.

He is still looking at my eyes, and scans my face. I’m afraid he’s going to insult me. There’s always a nice comment followed by a but. But it didn’t come.