Chapter 10 The Alpha Wing
The transition was jarring. They moved from the cold, crisp mountain air into a space that smelled of cedar, beeswax and roasting meat. The foyer was large with a vaulted ceiling and chandelier made of antlers that--thankfully--stayed lit.
"Fennigan," Elana commanded, snapping into logistics mode. "Take her things up the guest quarters in the Alpha wing."
She pointed to the grand staircase.
"Get her settled, let her wash up if she wants and then bring her right back down here." She shot him a look. "Now go get her things and carry them for her."
"Yes ma'am.: Fennigan reached for Leela's duffle bag.
"I got it," Leela said quickly, pulling the strap tighter on her shoulder. "There's no need. Really."
"Leela,: Elana said, her voice dry. "We have staff, but since we're keeping this in the family for tonight, Fennigan can carry your luggage. You have had a long few days."
"No, I mean..." Leela hesitated, looking down at the battered navy bag. It was her luggage, her purse and the only thing she had left after The Bean had died out front.This is it. I don't have any luggage. Just the bag."
Elana paused. She looked at the single, half-empty duffel bag hanging off Leela's shoulder. She looked at the frayed cuffs of Leela's hoodie and the worn out sneakers.
The Alpha female's expression softened, just for a fraction of a second.
"That's everything?" Elana asked. "You ran away with one bag?"
"I didn't have much to bring," Leela admitted, her face heating up. "Just the essentials."
Elana pursed her lips. "That won't do. Not here."
She turned to Fennigan.
"Tomorrow morning, you take her into town. I'm putting a credit card on the counter. Get her boots, get her coats, get her jeans that don't look like they were bought twenty years ago."
"Yes, ma'am." Fennigan smirked.
"Now," Elana waved. "Go. Room. Wash. Dining Hall. In that order."
Fennigan gently took the bag from Leela's shoulder. "Follow me, Sparky."
They started toward the stairs. Leela took one step--
GRRRRRRRR-RUMBLE.
It sounded like a chainsaw starting up under water. The noise was so loud it echoed in the foyer's high ceiling.
Leela froze, clutching her midsection, her face turning a brilliant shade of crimson.
Elana, who had started walking toward the kitchen, stopped and turned around. Damon chuckled from the doorway.
"Right," Elana said, hiding a smile. "Maybe we skip the was and go to the room, then immediately to the Dining Hall. Before she eats the dry wall."
"Copy that," Fennigan laughed, guiding a mortified Leela up the stairs. "Feed the beast first."
Fennigan nudged the door open with his foot and stepped aside to let her pass.
"This is the East Suite," he said. "It's usually for visiting dignitaries or wandering Alphas, but...well, Mom figures if you're going to blow up lightbulbs, you should do it in a room with high ceilings."
Leela stepped inside and stopped breathing.
The room wasn't just a room; it was a sanctuary. It was larger than the entire ground floor of her parent's house. A massive four-poster bed mkade of rough hewn pine dominated the space, piled high with a thick quilt that looked heavy enough to crush a person in the best possible way. There was a stone fireplace in the corner, a window seat overlooking the dark forest below and a rug that looked like it cost more than the Bean had.
Fennigan sat her duffle bag down on a velvet bench at the foot of the bed. It looked pathetic there--a dirty, fraying lump against the pristine furniture.
"My room is across the hall." Fennigan said, pointing to a door visible throught the open entryway. "If you need anything-anything at all-you don't have to knock. Just call out I'll hear you."
He hesitated, his hand on the doorknob.
"I'll give you a minute," he said softly. "I'll be right outside when you're ready to eat."
He clicked the door shut, leaving her in the sudden ringing silence. Just a low hum she felt in her gut.
Leela walked over to the bed. She reached out and touched the quilt. It was softk smelling faintly of lavender and fresh mountain air.
She sat down. The mattress caught her, holding her up soft and ayielding.
And then, without warning, the dam broke.
It wasn't a slow cry. It was a violent, heaving sob that ripped through her chest so hard it bent her double. She buried her face in her hands, gasping for air as the tears came hot and fast.
She had known these people for under an hour.
She had met Fennigan in a dream two days ago. She had met his parents ten minutes ago. She had blown up their porch lights. She had arrived with nothing but a rusted car and dirty clothes.
And how had they reacted?
Elana had smelled her, declared she liked her, immediately ordered new clothes. Damon had laughed off the destruction of his property and welcomed her with a smile. Fennigan had run down a mountain and slept on concrete just to make sure she wasn't alone in the fog.
In sixty minutes, a family of werewolves had shown her warmth and more acceptance, and more genuine care than her own parents had shown her in seventeen years.
Her mother had called her a regret. Her father had called her a nuisance. Damon called her welcome.
The injustice of it--the sheer, crushing weight of realizing she had spent her whole life begging for scraps of affection from people who had none to give, only to be handed a banquet by strangers-was to much.
She cried for the girl she had been in that cold house. She cried for The Bean. She cried because for the first time, the tears weren't falling into a void.
Knock. Knock.
It was a soft, tentative rap on the wood.
"Leela?" Fennigan's voice came through the door, muffled but anxious. "I can hear your heart rate. And...the crying. Did I mess up? Do you want to leave?"
Leela wiped her face on her sleeve, sniffing loudly. She took a shaky breath.
"No," she called out, her voice thich and watery. "No, I don't want to leave."
"Okay," he replied instantly. "Good. Because if I had done something to make you wanna leave, I'd have to fight my mom and she fights dirty."
Leela let out a wet, hiccuping laugh.
"I'm okay," she aid, standing up and wiping her eyes. "I'm coming."
She walked to the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were red, her face, blotchy, and she looked like a mess. But she didn't look like a ghost anymore.
She splashed cold water on her face, dried off with a towel that was fluffier than her pillow at home, and opened the door.
Fennigan was leaning against the wall opposite her door, arms crossed, looking worried. He straightened when he saw her.
"You okay?" he asked scanning her face.
"Yeah," Leela whispered. "I just...you guys are really nice. It's weird."
Fennigan grinned, pushing off the wall. "Don't let Jax hear you say that. He has a reputation to maintain"
He offered her his arm.
"Come on. Before Dad eats all the cornbread."