Wolven Rising: Untold Stories

GR-10: The Orchard

Alana

I smoothed out the blanket one last time. What do you think? I asked Zusa.

What do I think? She mused. I think you just set up a beautiful candlelit dinner in the orchard. What a romantic first date.

It's not a date! I exclaimed.

Could have fooled me.

I took a closer look at my setup. There was a blanket, a large wicker picnic basket, and several covered dishes with different types of food set up. I even had a little tealight candle floating in a jar for ambiance that I'd stolen from Mason's supplies for his own candlelight picnic near the greenhouses, where he planned to get to know his new mate. His new mate! I still couldn't believe it. That was why he was being so weird earlier. I hoped his date went well. I helped him out with the menu and candles, and I even made some dishes for it, and set some aside for my own meeting with Shasta.

My pride turned to horror when I realized what I had inadvertently done. Oh no. Zusa, why didn't you say anything? This looks like a date!

What could I have said? You seemed very determined.

I hastily blew out the candle and started trying to clear up the spread. I didn't want Shasta to think that I had asked him out on a date. I really did just want to return Wicked to him and discuss the story...I only wanted to do it in private, so I wouldn't get grilled with questions by my family.

"Is this for me?"

The stack of plates I was putting into the basket dropped with a resounding clack. "Oh!" I turned to where Shasta had materialized out of nowhere, another book tucked under his arm, taking in my half-packed picnic with wide eyes.

"No!" I said shrilly, standing up and not so surreptitiously brushing dust off my jeans. He raised his eyebrows. "I mean—yes—I mean..." I sighed, wishing I was anywhere else. "I—I thought since it was close to dinner you might be hungry," I said in a rush.

Shasta continued to study the scene, a contemplative look on his face. "It's not a date!" I blurted out shrilly.

Smooth, Zusa said sarcastically.

He studied my face, which must be as red as my hair now. I was absolutely mortified by the whole situation. Here I was, with a hodgepodge of food on a blanket, yelling at him that what obviously looked like a date wasn't a date. Could it get any worse? The silence lasted so long that I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to look at him anymore.

"Do I smell bacon?" Shasta asked abruptly. I dared to open one eye, peeking at him from beneath my lashes. He was now entirely focused on the picnic basket on the ground.

"Um, yeah," I said timidly. "Bacon-wrapped water chestnuts."

His eyes lit up. "Could I have some?"

"Uhh, sure," I said uncertainly, kneeling down next to the basket. "You can have them all."

He sat down next to me on the blanket. "Are you sure? Aren't you hungry?'

"Not really." Not really, because my stomach was already full of butterflies.

I held out the plate with the collection of water chestnuts, each wrapped in bacon, smothered in sauce, and speared with a small toothpick. He plucked one up and popped it into his mouth, pulling away the empty toothpick. "Mmm," he groaned. "Your chef is a magician."

"Actually, I made them," I said, feeling my heart flip. He liked my cooking!

Shasta's eyes widened again. "Really? Well, you're the magician then." He quickly grabbed two more toothpicks. "These taste even better than breakfast and lunch."

"You think?" I asked, beaming. Chef Renée would be proud, since she's the one who taught me the recipe.

"Definitely," he mumbled, swallowing another mouthful. "Plus, you can't go wrong with bacon."

I giggled. "No, you can't." I was glad he seemed to be able to put the awkwardness from before behind us. And that he didn't make a big deal out of all the date-like stuff I'd prepared. Even though he made me incredibly nervous, he also had this way about him that made me feel a little less scared about putting myself out there a little.

Shasta polished off the rest of the water-chestnuts in less than two minutes. "You definitely need to make those again," he said contentedly, patting his stomach. "Now that I know what they taste like, there's no going back."

"I'd be happy to," I murmured, glancing up at him just as he turned to look at me.

He locked eyes with me for a moment, then turned to the book he had set on the blanket beside him. "I brought the sequel, if you want to read it."

"Ooh!" I squealed, then blushed. I reached out as he handed it over, my fingertips accidentally brushing against his as I accepted the book. My hands trembled a little. "Thank you," I said, more quietly this time. "I know you must have brought them with you to read while you're here."

He shrugged. "It's not a problem. I've read them many times."

I opened the picnic basket and took out 'Wicked,' carefully wrapped in a cloth to keep it protected. "Here's the first book, returned as promised," I said, presenting it to him. "And..." I reached in again to pull out another. "You don't have to read it, of course, but I thought, since you're being so kind and lending me your books, you might want something else to read..." I trailed off, babbling and keeping my eyes glued to the cover.

A large, capable looking hand with long squared off fingers closed around the book, millimeters from my skin. "Thank you," he murmured. "I'd like to read something of yours. That's really nice of you to think of me."

The book slid through my grasp as he took it gently. "'I Am the Messenger,'" he said, reading the front before flipping it over to read back. "This sounds interesting."

"It's okay if you don't like it," I said quickly. "I wasn't sure what else you might want to read, and this is maybe aimed at a slightly younger audience, but this seemed like maybe it would—"

"Hey," Shasta interrupted, reaching out and stopping just short of putting his finger on my lips. I flinched back anyway, and he dropped his hand quickly, and in the fading light it looked like he might be blushing. "I loved 'The Book Thief.' I haven't read anything else by him, though, but I like his writing so this really should be interesting, I promise. I wasn't just saying that."

I looked into his sincere blue eyes. "Okay," I mumbled.

The silence stretched out again, but this time, I was unable to look away. He looked really intense, almost desperate. I couldn't decipher what his expression was, but I had a growing urge to reach up and cradle his face in my hands. I blinked rapidly and grabbed the basket so I wouldn't do anything that I would regret, pulling out some of the other dishes I had brought. Some I had made, like the water chestnuts, muffins, and cookies, but the rest I nabbed from the fridge and pantry in the pack kitchens. Shasta's tongue touched the corner of his lip as he watched the pile of food keep getting bigger. "You already seem to know me so well."

"Hmm?" I asked, startled, with a container of strawberries in hand.

"Never mind," he said, taking a bite out of a muffin. "I mean, I guess all wolves have big appetites. But sometimes I feel like mine is bigger than most."

I giggled. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"So, now that you finished it, what did you think of Wicked?" Shasta asked, taking another bite of his muffin and searching the basket for more food. When he found the candle and the lighter, he fished them out of the basket and lit the candle, the tiny flame refracting out of the jar and creating a soft glow between us in the fading light. He settled in and looked at me expectantly. While he didn't seem to notice at all, to me it started to feel a little bit like a date again.

"Well..." I started, then proceeded to tell him everything I thought about the twisted tale. He responded in kind, and before I knew it, we were having a real conversation. He made it feel so effortless. I stopped being self-conscious about what I was saying or how I looked and was just able to be myself around him. It was so different from the friends that I had in my pack. With them, there was always this invisible barrier between us, an unspoken knowledge that I was the Beta's daughter. Because of that, I never really felt that close to any of them. But with Shasta, that barrier didn't seem to be there. Maybe it was because he was basically a Beta, too? That must be it.

"Honestly, I don't think he became the scarecrow," I said, mentioning one of the main characters.

Shasta laughed. "There's a whole lot of musical lovers that would absolutely hate you."

My mouth dropped open as I pretended to be affronted. "What for!?"

"Well, let's just say there's a slightly happier ending for him in the musical than what appears in the books."

I scoffed. "Well, musicals are practically required to have happy endings. In books—and real life, for that matter—everyone doesn't always get so lucky."

Shasta looked down at the ground, and I suddenly realized what I had said. "I'm so sorry!" I said, clapping my hand over my mouth, then removing it. "That was a terrible thing to say, considering what you've been through. I didn't—"

"Alana," Shasta said, touching his fingertips to my hand. I immediately shut up. "It's fine," he said quietly, looking at me steadily. "I know you didn't mean anything by it."

I nodded mutely, then hugged my knees to my chest, huddling on the blanket. I couldn't believe I said something like that, after losing most of his pack in the m******e when he was still just a kid. I looked up at the moon, growing more full each night until the end of the week, when it would be at its brightest. Moon Goddess, please forgive me for being so callous.

"You know, I'm not so sure my whole story is unlucky," Shasta said. My eyes snapped over to him, but he was looking up at that same waxing moon. "I mean, yes, I lost my parents, and most of my pack. There were a few rough years there, for sure. But these days?" He shrugged a little, then turned his face to mine. "These days, I feel like my story is far from over. That what happened all those years ago was just part of the conflict, you know? I'd like to think my life still has a happy resolution, someday."

I breathed out slowly. "That's such a beautiful way to think about it, Shasta."

His cheeks became a little ruddier in the moonlight. "I guess."

"No, really," I pressed, scooting a little closer. "I think it's amazing that you are still filled with such...hope. There are not many people like that."

"Hope?" Shasta said slowly, as if trying out the word for the first time. "I don't know if anyone would ever use that word to describe me."

"I just did," I whispered.

He froze, a look of disbelief on his face. "You're wrong," he whispered.

I slowly shook my head. "No, I'm not."

Shasta closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. When he opened them again, a couple of tears sparkled against the electric blue. "You have no idea what it means to hear you say that."

---

I smiled softly on the walk back. All was quiet between us, and there was an unnameable something in the air, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it was slightly thrilling, walking back to the packhouse in the dark, with a handsome guy I just met right beside me. He had insisted on carrying everything, except for the second book in the Wicked series, which I now hugged closely.

I thought back to what he said toward the end of our conversation. 'You have no idea what it means to hear you say that.' I knew I was imagining a slight emphasis on the word 'you,' but I didn't care. All I wanted to do was make him feel better. I didn't want him to be in pain.

The packhouse only had a few lights on, but I recognized one of them as the living room in the Beta suite. Uh oh. I didn't realize it was so late. But someone in my family was still up. The question was, who? If it was my dad or my brother, I was bound to get a huge scolding. If it was my mom I'd get scolded too, but she was more likely to know something was up beyond my coming in so late. She'd try to sniff out the reason why.

Almost as if he could read my mind, Shasta paused. "Do you want to go in first, then I'll go in later?"

I sighed with palpable relief. Word would travel fast if anyone saw us together, and I didn't want him to go through a hard time because of it. Plus, I still wanted to keep him to myself, in the little bubble we seemed to have created. "If you don't mind staying out just a few minutes longer, I think that might be helpful."

"Well then," he said, standing a careful distance from me and extending his hand. I reached out with my own and shook, noting how pleasantly warm his palm was, even though the fall night was nippy. "Goodnight, Alana. I look forward to talking about our next reads together soon."

"Me too," I said emphatically. "Thank you for agreeing to come and meet me."

"I was happy to," he said sincerely. He was so nice.

I gave him one last smile and a little wave before I turned and rushed into the packhouse. Soon. He wanted to meet again soon. I could hardly wait. I was going to have to work hard to get through the duties of being the Beta's daughter so I could read the book in time to see him again before he left.

That's right. He was leaving.

I stopped just shy of the Beta suite. Shasta had less than a week left here before he'd be returning to Mount Haven, possibly as an official Beta of a brand new pack. I shouldn't let myself get too excited about whatever this...friendship was that seemed to be growing between us. There wasn't much time in a week. Not much at all. And who was I kidding, really? He probably just made time for me because he was bored here with not much to do other than wait for the Council.

I trudged the last few feet to the door, feeling a little dejected. But then his strong, sad, hopeful face flashed through my mind again. 'You have no idea what it means to hear you say that.'

It didn't matter that he was only here for a week, or if he was just passing the time with me, only to forget all about me when he left. I was going to make the most of the time he had here. Because, for the first time, it felt like maybe someone truly needed me.

And I was going to be there.