The Birth Of The Beta

5. NICE TO MEET YOU

As promised, Cornelius arranged a huge banquet for Pepin’s arrival. He welcomed him, and told him that he would always be looked after and protected, no matter what happened in the future. Pepin gorged himself on the delicious dishes, but the words and good intentions he savoured at a more responsible pace. Hope was a delicacy that was easy to choke on. Clovis encouraged him to eat as much as he could. Often they had both gone hungry and they were conditioned to make the best of each opportunity.

When he finally returned to his room, after a heavy day of training and a hearty meal, his bones and muscles hummed with a perpetual ache. Surprisingly, for a normally reserved werewolf, Clovis was retelling the day’s events like the arena orators. Although Pepin was there, he had no issue with enjoying the highlights.

“Did you see how she knocked that insolent wolf’s leg from under him, in one swift motion? She hasn’t even unblocked her wolf yet. I’m not joking when I say I was impressed with her strength, most of which she is suppressing. I hope she sweeps us over like that one day” Clovis had been gushing in this fashion since Aoife had captured their hand in hers.

Despite his best efforts, and his incredibly tired body, Pepin’s mind refused to settle. The more he turned and twisted in the bed, the more he felt his mind was being hit with problematic arrows and with no shield to protect him, the more uncomfortable and exposed he became. Why does she trap her wolf? Why doesn’t she celebrate her birthday? What will she say when she feels their bond? Unyielding questions began their relentless rampage, and he gave up the battle for sleep. He decided to explore the kitchen. A drink would maybe wash his worries away. Before he reached the door, he could hear a clattering and banging from inside the culina.

When he pushed the door he could see the young wolf, Winnifred, pulling some wooden bowls from a high shelf. She was on her tiptoes and her fingers barely touched the ledge, he was about to aid her when she knocked them forward and they started to fall directly on her head. Lunging forward, Pepin grabbed them before they hit her. He looked like he was juggling them to prevent impact before placing them on the worktop.

“Thank-you,” She chortled shyly, “Is there something you need?” She enquired.

“I can’t sleep, I thought maybe a drink would help me drift off,” he replied bashfully, not used to the concept of helping himself to the amenities yet.

“Would you like some warm milk? That always helps me to sleep, it will help you too,” She asked, midway through lifting the jug of milk from the ground, where it was stored to keep it cool. Pepin couldn’t help but smile at her child-like solution. He had been hoping to find a bottle of wine, but decided to indulge in her innocent resolution to all sleeping woes. He nodded at her, and she poured the milk into a little pot hovering it over the embers of the hearth. Noticing she was wearing another headband, he decided to mention it to her, in the hopes it would start a conversation that would distract him from his thoughts.

“Your headband is pretty, it’s different than the one you wore the day after I arrived,” He complimented her, and found it endearing when she instantly turned a rosy colour.

“Oh…thank-you, Aoife bought this for me. We were at the market, and I didn’t know which one I liked best, so she bought this as a surprise,” Winnifred explained.

“You two must be friends then, if she bought you that?” He was instantly intrigued, simply by the association she had with his mate.

“She would be kind to anyone, but she sees me as a little sister, I think,” She answered, while pouring his milk into a wooden mug.

“Was it an early birthday gift?” He asked, finding a way to manipulate the conversation to his benefit.

“No, my birthday is at the start of the year, I have to wait eight months for the next one,” Her disappointment reminded him of how young she was. She handed him his drink and then she pulled a sponge cake from the bread oven, and Pepin’s intrigue rose like the cake in front of him.

“What are you baking that keeps you awake so late?” Pepin enquired.

“I’m making a birthday cake for tomorrow. I’m allowed to make it, but I need to use the kitchen when it is unoccupied because it’s a secret and the kitchen is too busy during the day, so here I am” She had little dimples in her cheeks from smiling at her work.

“Whose birthday is it?”

She quickly looked at him, wide eyed, clasping her hand over her mouth so tightly that a white print of her fingers was left behind when he pulled it away from her face. However, the marks were difficult to discern from the egg white complexion her skin had paled to.

“Don’t tell…her I said anything, only Cornelius…and I know. It’s not something she wants…to share… with others. It’s a secret because of her, not for her,” Winnifred stammered, sounding tearful.

Pepin briskly tapped his thumb over her knuckles, trying to give her comfort, but inside he was elated. Tomorrow was Aoife’s birthday, he was sure of that. She would finally unblock her wolf.

“It’s OK Winnifred, I won’t tell Aoife that I know it’s her birthday,” He reassured her, while confirming he was right. “Why doesn’t she celebrate it?” He pushed for more answers to the questions that were reinforcing their attack in his head.

“I can’t tell you much, but it has something to do with her family. Her first shift was excruciating. I was only a child when her eighteenth birthday came, and she was screaming for hours. Her wolf wouldn’t come through without her family being there. I still have nightmares about it now, I’m dreading shifting after hearing her fight for so long. It was Cornelius who managed to help her in the end. Neve, her wolf, is physically incredibly strong, but she can’t cope with extreme feelings, so she will retreat when she feels overwhelmed. Sometimes she can become volatile, so Aoife has to block her out until Neve is able to rebalance,” Winnifred summarised.

She turned her attention back to the bowl, adding butter and sugar to it. Pepin drained the last mouthful of his milk, then washed the cup and returned it to the cupboard, thanking Winnifred for her company.

“Do you mind if I call you Winnie?” He asked her, hoping he had made his first positive acquaintance at Heaton House.

“Only Aoife calls me that, but I would like it if you did too,” She answered honestly.

He made his way back to his room. Fortunately, the milk did sate him enough to rest a little, unfortunately, the questions he still had about Aoife were piercing his heart with their jagged arrow heads. Clovis’ jaw was flat on his extended front paws, his ears were flopping either side of his head, his eye lids were drooping over his eyes. He was forlorn.

“Mate was tortured by shifting, because of that they are both in torment. A wolf picks up on the pain of the human, and it’s so burdensome that she can’t carry the load that Aoife gives her.” Clovis howled, joining the shared suffering.

“We will be there with her forever now, we will share everything through the bond. We can protect her from the pain of the past. There’s no way she won’t want to be with a handsome wolf like you every moment she can,” Pepin comforted his distressed wolf.

“Whatever pain she has buried, I will claw it out of its grave and kill it repeatedly, until the fragments are scattered in the wake of our happiness. You will help me Pepin, we will do it together,” Clovis declared, and rolled around in his brain sending images of his future mauling against the emotions he would guard her from.

Sleep eluded him for a little while, until he made a plan to ensure he would be there when Aoife shifts tomorrow. This strategy lulled him into dreams that made him smile in his slumber.