Chapter 57 Swallowed Sunshine
Chapter 57 Swallowed Sunshine
3RD PERSON'S POV
Tabitha practically floated down the narrow corridor leading to the storeroom, a soft smile playing on her lips. The early morning sun filtered through the high, dusty windows of the pack house, casting warm golden patches on the wooden floors.
She hummed a quiet, tuneless melody under her breath, one her mother used to sing when Tabitha was small, back when illness hadn’t gotten to her yet. She walked like an excited little kid, her steps were light, almost skipping, the basket swinging gently from her fingers.
The night before replayed in her mind and she smiled sheepishly to herself. Damon’s skin against hers, the way his arms had tightened around her as if afraid she might vanish.
She still remember how both their wolves had settled into a pleased quiet once their fingers intertwined.
She had forgotten every vow she’d made to stay away from Damon. Her heart won over her mind. She had simply let herself be his mate. And it felt oddly right. Tabitha giggled again.
The storeroom door creaked as she pushed it open. She set her basket down and reached for the carrots. A soft laugh escaped her as she remembered the way Damon had grumbled sleepily when she tried to slip away at dawn.
“You look like you’ve swallowed sunshine itself,” came a dry voice from the doorway.
Tabitha startled, nearly dropping the carrots. The matron stood there, arms crossed over her ample chest, one graying eyebrow arched high. Her eyes that had seen decades of servant gossip narrowed as they studied Tabitha’s flushed cheeks and bright expression.
“Morning, Matron,” Tabitha said cheerfully, flashing her a grin that was actually genuine.
The older woman stared a moment longer, as if trying to solve a puzzle that refused to add up. Tabitha had always been this person that seemed withdrawn like she was trying to stay away from trouble. Now here she was, humming like a girl in love for the first time. The matron opened her mouth, then closed it again. She had learned long ago that some things in the pack house were better left unexamined. As long as Tabitha did her work properly no one sent a complaint to her she wouldn't bother herself with Tabitha's sudden random burst of craziness.
“Get on with it, then,” the matron said at last, waving a dismissive hand. “And don’t waste time. We’ve got extra mouths at lunch today. Those visiting betas from the eastern border eat like starved wolves on a hunt.”
Tabitha nodded, still smiling, and turned back to her task. Once the matron’s footsteps faded, she let out a breathy laugh and pressed a hand to her warm cheek.
Damon had managed to convince the Alpha himself that her little stray cat, Puddle, could stay in the servants’ quarters.
No one connected that small victory to anything more. Certainly not to the future Alpha. Who would believe that Damon, with his strength and status, would look twice at someone as filthy like her?
She gathered the carrots, added a few potatoes and headed back toward the kitchen. But the matron had mentioned tomatoes earlier. She yelled at her for forgetting them. With a small sigh, she turned toward the warehouse again.
Her mind drifted again as she walked. The warehouse door was ajar. Tabitha adjusted her basket and stepped forward.
A tall figure suddenly popped out from behind a stack of crates.
She yelped, the sound sharp and undignified, her free hand flying to her chest. The basket nearly fell from her hands. Then recognition hit, and the yelp dissolved into a bright, surprised chuckle.
“Damon!” she hissed, half scolding, half delighted. Her eyes darted around the empty path behind her. No one in sight. Good.
Before he could say anything, she grabbed the front of his shirt confidently and tugged him backward into the dim, cool interior of the warehouse. The door thudded shut behind them.
Damon’s arms were around her instantly, pulling her tightly against his chest. He smelled like soap and the faint woods.
His lips found hers with the same hunger she felt echoing in her own body. The kiss was deep, unhurried this time—no fever driving it, just pure want. Tabitha melted into it, her fingers threading through his dark hair, the basket forgotten at their feet. His hands roamed her back, respectful but possessive, as if memorizing the shape of her through the thin fabric of her uniform.
For a long, stolen moment, the world around them seemed to dissolve into nothing. Tabitha kissed him back with everything she had held back for so long.
Eventually, breathlessly, she pulled away, pressing her forehead to his collarbone. “I have to get the tomatoes,” she murmured, though her body protested the distance. “Matron will skin me if lunch is late.”
Damon let out a low, playful groan, his arms tightening around her waist. He ducked his head to nuzzle the sensitive spot just below her ear. “Five more minutes,” he said softly, echoing his words from that morning. His voice still carried a faint rasp from the lingering effects of the fever.
Tabitha laughed softly, the sound warm and fond. She tilted her head to look up at him. His intense, stormy eyes were clear now, filled with a softness that only Tabitha got to see and feel. She reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You’re pouting,” she teased, playfully hitting him with a small laugh.
“The big, bad future Alpha is actually pouting because his maid has to work.”
He nipped gently at her thumb, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Stay. I’ll tell the matron I needed your… personal attention.”
“Damon,” she warned, though her smile betrayed her. She gave him one last quick kiss and she reluctantly stepped back. She bent to retrieve her basket, smoothing down her uniform and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
A sudden wave hit her. It came out of nowhere. One moment she was reaching for the crate of ripe tomatoes, the next her stomach lurched violently. Bile burned the back of her throat, her vision blurred for a split second.
“Tabitha?” Damon’s voice sharpened with concern. He reached for her.
She shook her head quickly, hand flying to her mouth. She scrambled for the door, shoving it open and stumbling out into the bright daylight. Her feet carried her on instinct toward the nearest shrubs that bordered the kitchen gardens. She dropped to her knees retching hard into the green leaves.