3 months and 7 days…
I stand in the kitchen early on Saturday making a giant breakfast for the pack house. I've got 10lbs of sausage and bacon already prepared, fruit sliced, coffee brewing and now I just need to finish the pancakes. I've also made Alpha Liam a separate breakfast with his favorite croissants and an omelet. I hope that maybe he will leave me alone today if he's happy after breakfast.
I've got pancakes on the griddle as I am pulling the homemade croissants out of the oven. They smell so good; I've really out done myself. I set the pan on the counter and moved over to the fridge to grab some cinnamon butter I whipped up for today. I must taste right?
I walk to the counter and pull a hot croissant from the pan smearing a little whipped cinnamon butter on top. I flip the pancakes before taking a bite of the flaky pastry. Oh my, this is so much better than leftovers.
I hummed in bliss for a moment as I took another bite of the warm, flaky pastry. I knew I couldn't sit here and enjoy this for long. I placed the other half in a napkin and slipped it into my apron pocket. I would finish it later when I could take a few minutes break.
I continued cooking pancakes while keeping an eye on the clock. Alpha Liam usually comes into the kitchen about 15 minutes before breakfast is served to see what is on the menu and decide he doesn't want it. I noticed that breakfast would be starting in 22 minutes, so I needed to make Alpha Liam's plate.
I went to the cabinet and started reaching for a plate. Damnit, I need that stool. I looked around and found the step stool in the corner. I'm just about the only one to use it in the whole pack house. Most werewolves were larger than me, even she-wolves. I brought the stool over to the cabinet and climbed up. As I reached for a plate, I felt an extremely warm presence behind me. A hand reached over me grabbing the plate. I went to grab it, uttering a shy thank you as I turned around.
I dropped the plate as I jumped back falling on my butt. No, no, no. Please not again.
Liam
I walked into the kitchen smelling the delicious aroma of croissants. One of the cooks makes these heavenly pastries from scratch and pairs them with the best omelets you could ever have.
As I entered the kitchen, I noticed a small girl trying to reach a plate from the cabinet. Figuring it was one of the young she-wolves that my mom looks after on weekends, I walked over to help. I grabbed the plate trying to hand it to her as she turned.
I was met with a pair of dull green eyes as my expression turned from one of shock to anger quickly. She fell back in surprise from the stool she was on and dropped the plate. Luckily, it was still in my grip. Mom hates broken dishes.
I looked down at the floor as her eyes held back tears. "Trying to sneak food while the cooks aren't in here?" I asked her, my irritation rising. I looked at the ground next to her noticing the half-eaten croissant poking out of a napkin. "Seems our leftovers aren't good enough for you anymore."
She shook her head violently while keeping her eyes down on the floor. She hadn't tried to move yet. I can't believe my dad continues to let this traitor stay in our pack, in our house no less.
I grabbed her by her shirt and hauled her to her feet. There was a small tearing sound as I probably tore her shirt. I threw her over towards the counter where the pan of croissants sits. I slide the plate down the counter and tell her to make me a plate. I can see tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
I start to get an uncomfortable feeling in my chest but overlook it. She puts 4 croissants on my plate and before I can berate her, she turns to the oven pulling out a pan with my favorite omelet inside. She slides it onto the plate. She turns around grabbing silverware from a drawer along with a small condiment dish. She spoons what looks like some of that delectable cinnamon butter into the dish before placing it on the plate. She turns and walks away from the counter and out the door.
I grab my plate and walk out to the dining room as 2 cooks come in to get the rest of the breakfast food. They give me odd looks as I walk past them, raising their eyebrows at my plate.
I sit down and begin eating. Oh my. I will never get enough of these croissants. About halfway through my food, my best friend and future beta, Damien, sits down next me. He starts shoveling food in his mouth immediately. Goddess help his future mate…
"Wanna head out to the lake house with us man?" He asks in-between bites.
"Nah, I think I might hang back. Do some extra training with the warriors today," I said. As I thought about it, if I hung around here today, I could get the little traitor girl back for stealing a croissant this morning.
"Whatever," he replied not caring for my indifference.
As I finished up my plate, a cook came out with more croissants for me. I knew there were more! But I was also hoping for a second omelet. "Are there any more eggs?" I asked hopefully. The omega cook shook her head no and went back to the kitchen. Odd, usually the cooks make a second helping.