Chapter 17 Acceptance
DAVINA'S POV
The library was everything I'd expected.
Tall shelves lined with old wood, and that unmistakable scent of dusty documents that hadn’t been touched in ages. The amber glow from two desk lamps pooled over a long reading table, cluttered with ledgers, bound volumes, and folders with dates stamped on their spines going back decades.
I stood there, taking it all in, but when I tried to read, my mind went blank. I pulled Article Nine from the third shelf, just like Zane had said it would be, settled into a chair, and opened it up. I read the same opening paragraph four times, but none of it stuck. My mind kept drifting back to Aurelia’s warning echoing in my head.
Frustrated, I closed the folder, resting my hands flat on the table for a moment. Then, with a sigh, I placed it back exactly where I found it, turned off the lamp, and made my way back downstairs.
When I got back, the room felt smaller, almost suffocating. I flopped down on the bed, still wearing my jacket, and stared at the ceiling, listening to the cabin settle into the quiet night. The fire had completely gone cold, and outside, I could hear the patrol wolf pass by twice, I found myself tracking its movements, even though I hadn’t meant to.
Sleep didn’t come easily and when it finally did, I dreamt of my shop, the familiar smell, the distinct creak of the third floorboard behind the counter, and how the morning light streamed through the front window, hitting the spines of the books on the east wall and making them glow.
I woke up before dawn with that comforting scent still lingering in my nostrils, and a decision had already taken root in my chest.
I started by cleaning the cabin not because it was dirty, Zane's people kept it tidy enough. But I needed something to do with my hands to clear my mind. Making the bed with crisp corners and sweeping a floor that didn’t really need it turned out to be the perfect kind of distraction.
By the time the compound outside had started its morning sounds I had also reorganized the small shelf by the window, figured out which drawer stuck and why, and decided that if this was going to be my life for the foreseeable future then I was going to embrace it instead of just waiting around.
Once I was done, I stepped outside, still looking for what to do and how to keep myself busy.
The first wolf I approached was a broad-shouldered man restacking firewood near the equipment shed. He looked up when I stopped beside him, and his face went through a quick cycle of surprise, uncertainty, and then settled into a careful blankness. .
"Can I help?" I asked, trying to sound friendly.
He stared at me like I'd suggested something genuinely confusing. "With the wood?"
"With anything, really. Is there something that needs doing?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, and glanced toward the main lodge like he was checking whether someone was watching, then looked back at me. "I'm fine," he said carefully. "Thank you."
With that, he turned back to the wood, focusing on it and clearly deciding that pretending our conversation never happened was the safest route.
Next, I spotted a younger woman crossing the yard with a basket of linens, I appeared beside her and asked the same question. She looked so alarmed that I actually felt bad for asking.
"I wouldn't want to… I mean, Zane might not…" She pulled the basket closer to her chest. "I'm okay, thank you."
I watched her practically sprint away.
Right. So, here I was, standing in the middle of the yard, debating whether to give it another shot when a voice came from my left, calm and completely unbothered.
"You know how to hang washing, girl?"
An elderly woman was standing at the far end of the yard beside two lines strung between posts, a basket of wet clothes at her feet and her hands on her hips. Her white hair was pulled back tightly and her face had that no-nonsense look of someone who stopped caring about others' opinions decades ago.
She was looking at me like she had a job to do and had just spotted available hands.
“Yep,” I replied, already making my way over to her.
“Good.” She handed me a wet shirt. “Other end.”
We worked in silence for a few minutes, the sheets snapping in the cold morning air, and it felt so ordinary, so completely mundane that I could feel a little tension in my chest easing for the first time in days.
“Mara,” she said, still focused on the sheet she was straightening.
“Davina.”
“I know who you are.” She reached for a wooden peg. “I know everyone around here. Been in this pack for sixty-one years.” She shot me a sideways glance that was almost amused. “You’re the first guest to come asking for work.”
“Is that unusual?”
“For a guest?” She paused to think. “Yeah, it is.”
I reached for the next item in the basket.
“You’re not really a guest, though, are you?” she said, not quite asking.
I didn’t respond, and she didn’t press the issue and we kept hanging the clothes. I was just about to grab a pillowcase when I felt it the familiar shift in the air that I was embarrassingly starting to recognize. I didn’t turn around right away, I finished pegging the pillowcase first.
“What are you doing?” Zane's voice came from a few feet behind me.
I turned just enough to glance at him over my shoulder. “Don’t you have eyes? I’m working.”
The silence that followed lasted maybe three seconds.
Mara made a sound beside me that she tried to disguise as a cough.
Zane stood there with the morning light behind him. He crossed his arms and watched me as I reached into the basket for the next piece.
I could feel his gaze on me, and I was determined not to acknowledge it.
"There's food," he said finally. "If you're hungry."
I pegged the last item on the line and turned to face him properly. "Where?"
"Don't worry, not in the main hall." He held my gaze. "Somewhere quieter."
Mara took the empty basket from my hands without a word, and I could've sworn I caught the ghost of a smile on her face as she turned away.
I looked back at Zane and he was still watching me.
"Lead the way then," I said.
He turned, and I followed him across the yard, telling myself that the warmth in my chest was just from the work and the chilly morning air, and had absolutely nothing to do with the way he’d looked at me.
We were halfway across the yard when I spotted Aurelia standing at the upper window of the lodge, looking directly down at us.