Bessa

You Are Not A Betrayal

The bread is still warm when I bite into it.

Orva's mate looks unsettled to have an Alpha at his table, sharing the final meal of the day.

The Savage's thigh is touching mine; the heat soaks through the layering of Silk. His knuckles are healing well from punching the mirror in our bathroom. Our hosts are looking at his hand but not asking questions that would bring hard answers out.

I've decided to pretend I'm a real mate to the Savage for dinner. Pretend that he's taking me around for our introduction and he's happy I'm on his right, and not the betrayal he feels I am to him.

The table is set for five, but there is only four sitting here now. The Savage heads the table with me on the right, an empty spot remains on his left. Wattson and Orva take their places.

"How long will the walk be to the summer grounds this year?" Wattson says as he tries to calm down his fusing pup.

"A few days depending if any female births on the trail." Both Orva and Wattson breath out a sigh of relief.

The pup cries.

"She's having a difficult day." Orva takes the pup from her mate's arms. The female looks to be noisy she wants to see the guests, her eyes find mine. Taking off a bangle giving it to her. Immediately she puts it in her mouth. 

"The Singer to the Moon I heard is not going to be coming this year?" It's Orva who says this above the cries of the pup. Her mate tenses up.

"What, she turns to Wattson. You wanted to know. If we don't ask the questions, we can never get the answers. I learned that in my birth pack." Orva smiles her spine straightens.

I like Orva.

"I've made arrangements for him to stay this year." The Savage states after swallowing the fresh bread that he keeps dipping into the broth of the fish chowder.

"This is very good, who made it?" The Savage looks from Wattson to Orva.

"I made the fish stew it's a staple in the East; we lived by the Ocean. The bread, he made. Wattson's better at it than I am." Orva says with an easy smile, her free hand touches his shoulder, and his body leans towards her's.

"We would use saffron in our fish stew, and eat it with unleavened bread. We would tear it off in pieces to pick up the chunks of fish and eat it. We always would have rice with everything as well. There's no rice here." The longing is not missed by the guests who stop eating.

"We have rice here. It grows wild in the south." The Savage flexes his hand that's not holding his spoon. The scab on his knuckles breaks only to heal over again.

"I think I have some left from last year." Orva gets up and opens her cupboards that hold a few jars of dry goods. She pulls out a container while cradling the pup who is upset to be pulled away from her guests.

"Here, there's only enough for one meal, have it." Taking the jar from her, I can't help the smile that's on my face.

"Thank you." Grabbing her hand with a squeeze. A soft knock on the door has Wattson standing up to let the guest in.

"Luki,"

"Wattson, Orva, my apologies for the lateness, my mother was telling of her time with her sister in the North." Luki and Wattson press their cheeks to each other in greeting. Luki nods his head to Orva and me. When he approaches the table, squeezing his brother's shoulder.

"Your mother must be happy she's back?" Wattson states out with a belief she is happy to be back.

"She is grateful to be back. She was telling us how they don't prepare properly for winter. My Mother said that my sister doesn't even jar food anymore. All her skills have been lost." Luki says as he sits on his brother's left.