50 Ava: The Grey Girl
“Good morning,” yton says with a smile, and I step back to let him into the apartment. He pauses for just a moment when he sees Selene, and I wait for the questions–but he doesn’t ask any.
He’s polite like that.
Honestly, outside of my paranoia and not wanting to rely on him, he seems like a pretty great guy.
yton strides into the kitchen like he owns it–which, I mean, he does–while I stand around feeling awkward and out of ce in this fancy apartment. He seems so at home here, like he belongs.
“Everything okay with the phone?” he calls out from the kitchen. “You didn’t text me this morning.”
“Oh, uh, no issues,” I reply, ncing down at the sleek new device on the end table. “I just woke up a little while ago and haven’t set it up yet.”
There’s a brief pause, and then the sound of a pot ttering onto the stove. “Have you eaten?”
I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “No,
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not yet.”
“Well, go rx then. I’ll whip up some breakfast.”
Before I can protest, he emerges from the kitchen, those intense green eyes fixing me with a look that brooks no argument. Grasping my shoulders, he turns me towards the plush couch and gives me a gentle nudge in that direction.
“Go on, I’ve got this.”
I open my mouth to argue, but one nce at his resolute expression has me snapping it shut again. Instead, I just nod and make my way over to the couch, sinking into the soft cushions with a sigh.
Selene, ever my loyalpanion, leans against me as she focuses on her show, resting her head on myp. I absently run my fingers through her soft fur, trying to ignore the sounds of yton puttering around in the kitchen.
1
It’s weird, having someone else cook for me. Take care of me. I’m so used to being the one doing all the work, all the cooking and cleaning. Having someone else step into that role makes me feel ufortable. Lazy.
But at the
50 Ava: The Grey Girl
relieved to have someone else shoulder that burden for a change. To be taken care of, instead of being the one doing all the taking care. It’s just breakfast, but he just came in and took over, like-
Like an alpha who thinks he’s my mate.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge those thoughts. I can’t afford to get toofortable here, too used to having yton around. This isn’t permanent, no matter how much he might want it to be.
The sizzle of bacon on a hot pan has my ears perking up–Selene’s, too–and the smell reaches my nose a few secondster. My stomach gives an involuntary rumble.
Okay, maybe I can let him take care of me for just a little while longer.
It’s not a sin to get a <i>little </ifortable, right? Since I can’t leave, anyway?
***
Breakfast with yton isfortable.
He doesn’t try to touch me. No more kisses on the forehead. He’s just there, polite and friendly, making
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sure I’m taken care of.
Selene seems to approve, because she’s zoned into her show instead of watching his every move. Of course, she doesn’t have anything against yton in the first ce. She doesn’t like the idea of being trapped here, but she has nothing against him.
It’s not like the snide remarks she throws in about Lucas every time hees up..
Not wanting to think about him, I focus on my cup of creamer with a ssh of coffee, adding another spoon
of o
sugar. I can see yton giving my drink a little side–eye, but I’m used to it.
I don’t like coffee without a lot of vor to mask its real taste.
yton waves me back to the couch to enjoy myself just as his phone rings. I try to settle into my role as a couch potato, but my ears can’t help picking up his side of the conversation.
The sickeningly sweet confection is purefort, and I sip at it, letting the sugary taste linger on my tongue as I try to ignore the snippets of yton’s
conversation filtering through my ears. His deep,
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rumbling voice is hard to tune out, even with the mindless chatter of the television providing background noise.
“…situation with ckwood is escting…”
The words send a shiver down my spine, and I clutch my mug a little tighter, the warmth seeping into my palms.
“…Westwood’s sent his demands, but they’re refusing…”
My heart sinks as the implications of his words start to
sink in.
ckwood and Westwood? Is a waring after all?
“…Grey girl seems to be at the center of it all…”
The mug almost slips from my fingers, and I barely manage to catch it before the scalding liquid spills all over myp. My breath catches in my throat as I process thosest words.
The Grey girl. Me?
Panic starts to w its way up my chest, constricting my lungs. Are they looking for me? Have they found me? Is that why yton has me holed up here, under the guise of protection?
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50 Ava: The Grey Girl
My gaze darts towards the hallway, half–expecting to see a squad of enforcers bursting through the door to drag me back to that miserable existence. Back to the pack that never wanted me, the family that treated me
like a burden.
Of course, they don’te. yton doesn’t know myst name; he has no idea that I’m the girl he’s talking about.
Right?
Because if he did, he would have to send me back to
my pack.
Selene must sense my distress because she licks my face, her warm body pressing against my leg in a silent show of support. I run my fingers through her soft fur, drawing strength from her presence as yton’s voice rumbles on.
“…need to deal with it as soon as you do, no matter what…”
Deal with who? The packs? Me? War? The questions swirl through my mind like a whirlwind, threatening to overwhelm me,
Dart of mo wants to confront uton and demand
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answers, but I don’t want to tip my hand. I don’t think he knows who I am. I have no idea how he’ll act once
he finds out, either. So I just need to make sure he never has a clue.
I watch as yton ends his call, his brow furrowed in a way that makes the lines on his forehead stand out more. He runs a hand over his face, and I can almost feel the stress radiating off him.
Doing my best to act casual, I guzzle the rest of my coffee and head into the kitchen, pretending I just needed to put my cup away. yton’s already getting ready to wash the dishes.
“Hey,” I say, and I can’t keep the worry out of my voice.Property ? 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.
yton looks up. “What’s wrong, Ava?”
“Do I need to worry about this war between the packs?” I ask, deciding to stick with blunt and practical
As my approach