Talons

Chapter 38: The Talk

Rhea’s POV

With food being supplied by the pack, my wolf and I get to work on putting on pounds. Sylvia told me that she is going to slow my metabolism so that my body has time to use the food before she does. I didn't know wolves could do that, and she hinted that it may not be typical. Our premature shift has changed us.

There is a drawback to slowing my metabolism though. It means that there is less energy for my brain to use, and that is how Sylvia communicates with me. So, our random conversations and her everyday input will pretty much disappear until I have added the desired amount of weight.

The first day of our plan was hard for me. Not having the ability to taste makes my appetite poor, so it doesn’t take much to fill me, but I force myself to the brink of sickness for my wolf's sake. 

One of the many benefits of having a Puerto Rican grandmother is that she is constantly cooking and telling me I need to eat more. So, I have had no shortage of meals, nor have I had to cook for myself.

I have timers that remind me to eat, and when I am not working in the fields, I am cleaning or spending quality time with my grandparents.

“Wela,” I say. That is the name given to my grandmother by Lark, who could not say abuela (grandma), which sounds like it has a W in it. I can speak Spanish, and I know how to say the word properly, but Wela has taken on an affectionate meaning that I wouldn’t dare tarnish. “If you could go back, is there anything you would do over again?”

Questions like that have been popping into my mind lately, and for some reason I think they are coming from Sylvia. I know she cannot speak to me the way she wants, and I hope that going semi dormant isn’t hurting her in anyway.

My grandmother answers my question in Spanish, which is normal for her anytime I, her one Spanish speaking grandchild, or my mother is around. She says that using her first language reminds her of the good about home.

When my grandparents met, they could barely understand one another, but they worked hard until they could. My grandmother was from a small Forrest pack in Puerto Rico, where English was not spoken. When she moved to the states, it was not to for fun; it was because she needed to run away.

She ended up going from mistreated pack helper to the luna of her own pack and I’m starting to wonder if my perspective of the mate bond is warped. I don't want to be forced into loving a person, but if I look at my sister, my parents, and grandparents, it might not be all that bad.

My grandmother sits across from me with a sigh, and I’m starting to see the effect age is having on her body. My heart begins to race as I start to imagine the worst, and I find myself moving closer to her so that I can cling to her arm. 

She pats my cheek and chuckles. I have always been more affectionate than other wolves, and my grandparents, especially in their old age, have no complaints. 

I listen to my grandmother tell me that she wishes she had more children. My father only has one brother, and they did not get along when they were younger. 

They grew up wanting completely different lives, and after my father met my mother, their relationship dissolved to a point where my uncle left the pack to become a beta for another pack in a different state. 

My grandfather says that the move saved whatever bond my uncle and father had left. Something I am grateful for, because I could not imagine the darkest parts of my life without Mandy. 

Though she is older than me, she did not try to click with my sisters and because of her, and of course my mother, I was able to overcome a lot of cruel things my sisters said or did to me in the past.

My father and my grandfather enter my grandparents’ home and I quickly get to my feet, ready to help them remove their muddy boots so I will not have to sweep and mop again. I have always been a neat person but living on my own has made me much cleaner than I used to be, and my grandmother says it’s my cultural influence mixing with my submissive nature.

A submissive nature does not mean my wolf and I are weak. It just means that we do not mind following directions. We don't see everything as a challenge, and I know my grandmother is right about that because it's easy for me to feign submission without feeling defeated.

I bring the boots outside just in time to see my mother coming toward the cabin with a bowl of something in her hands. I don’t know what it is, but I’m definitely going to eat it.

I make light work of the food I was given, and everyone is staring at me as if I have done something wrong. There is no need to hide what my wolf and I are doing, but for some reason I have been. 

I’m afraid my parents will laugh at me, or that they will try to discourage me, since training will be grueling. They baby me a lot, and while I love it, Sylvia needs my strength, not theirs.

"Are you pregnant?" My father asks, and I gag on the spoonful of rice that I had just shoved into my mouth.

"Daddy? What? I haven't even... My heat hasn't… Can we not have this conversation right now?" I cover my face in shame, because the look on my mother and grandmother’s face tells me that they are also suspicious of something.

"You smelled faintly of a human male when you came here.” My eyes widen from the accusation, and I shake my head vigorously. 

"Maybe it's from work? I am a tutor. The students are all male athletes." I slide my phone to my parents and my grandfather starts shaking his head as they scroll through my texts with coach Jim.

"A little trust can go a long way," he says, patting my arm. He appears to be talking to my mother and father, but I know he means me.

"I am trying to gain weight to recover my strength. I haven't been with anyone, human or wolf." My mother sighs in relief, and my father slides my phone back to me. 

"Sorry for accusing you,” he says. “But you have never been properly educated." My father has never had 'the talk' with any of his daughters, and it's evident that he is struggling right now. "You need to know that it is very possible for a human male to impregnate a she-wolf before her first heat, and with your increased appetite..." I am extremely disappointed in my father. Even Sylvia had to come to the surface to glare at him through my eyes.

“Don’t look at your father that way. We would have supported you. He just wanted to beat up a human.” I know my mother is trying to make light of the situation, but I am still annoyed. I respond to my mother in Spanish, and my father becomes clearly agitated, making a deep chuckle come from my grandfather.

“That is why I never made your mother angry.”

“Sweetheart, daddy is sorry for offending you, but I had to ask. Your mother told me I was wrong, but you’re my baby girl and I worry about you being away from home.” My father’s words help to placate me, and I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. The truth is that I have not been educated about my body as a wolf.

"Did I smell that strongly of male?" I ask, lifting my shirt to sniff it. I have no sense of smell, so it's more of a reflex than anything. Also, I am confused; I do not hug anyone, nor do I mix laundry with Tucker, so if it’s his scent that carried over on me, it must have been on something he touched after it was washed.

"Not anymore, but your father and I were worried. By the way, I enrolled you in goddess studies." My head jerks back and I look up at all four faces, realizing that they had been planning this since the moment I arrived.

Goddess studies is the devout version of wolf s*x education. I don’t mind being educated, but I know from my sisters that I will be learning more about the mate bond than mating.

“I had nothing to do with that,” My father says, raising his hands and leaving the table. My grandfather does the same, and I’m left being stared down as if I’m the bad guy.

“What?” I ask slightly, sinking into my chair. I know when to fold, and my mother is more frightening than Alpha Newt to me, especially when she has back up.

“There are other ways to get a males scent on you,” she says in Spanish, clearly not wanting my father to understand. My brows furrow as I try to process the hidden meaning in my mother’s words and she and my grandmother burst into uncontrolled laughter. 

"Mommy? Wela?”

“*Aye bendito, muñeca, (*see author note.) You don’t even know what I'm talking about do you?” I am confused by the women in front of me, as they have gone from looking at me with accusing eyes to laughing at me, and I'm not sure which is worse, but I don't feel like dwelling on that, I am more concerned about goddess studies.

"How come you didn't tell me that you were enrolling me in summer classes?"

"Because, you would have figured out a way to get out of it if I did." It's true, but I still don't like it. "Maybe you can finally make wolf friends?" My mother adds.