Unwillingly Yours

Chapter 8

A hand smacked roughly at my upper arm making me jolt. I turned to look at the person rude enough to smack me out of my thoughts, unsurprisingly seeing Micah's hazel eyes looking at me skeptically.

"What are you so lost in thought about?" He asked, wrinkling his nose the way he did when he was confused. It was a little insulting that my brother found it so bewildering that I could ever be lost in thought staring poetically into the distance as I pondered over the truths of the universe.

Or the truth behind how a grown man could look so damn adorable while being so devilishly handsome at the same time. Emeric had a face that looked like it had been carved by angels, a nose so perfectly straight I wanted to use it to draw lines the way people did rulers. And yet there was the humble way he held himself, secure but with a sort of consideration for everyone in the room.

"Books." I answered doing something with my face to look convincing but all I truly succeeded in doing was giving myself a double chin and looking like I ate something very sour. Also successfully freaking Micah out who had been convinced I was sick since Alpha Mrow's visit.

"Maybe we shouldn't have let her work at the library. Being alone with just books for company is really affecting her mental health." Micah whispered loudly towards my father who sat at the other end of the room, a book open in his lap even though his focus was entirely on the clump of cloth he had been knitting for days until Micah had interrupted him.

"Books are actually very relaxing Micah, they are usually good in reducing stress. You would know that if you would just try reading." Dad answered, doing something with his knitting sticks that even though I didn't know how to knit, I knew was entirely wrong.

"Who am I even talking to? The man whose knitting looks more like an offended cat with a very fluffy tail than a scarf." Micah scoffed and I gasped realizing that was exactly what the clump of blue looked like. I nodded at Micah with widened eyes and he smirked forgetting his concern in lieu of praise which he was rarely given.

"It is still in progress, I assure you all three of you will be fighting over it once I'm done." Dad said, his anger at Micah's words making him knit more aggressively causing what looked like the cat's tail to become even fluffier.

"Three of us?"

Had our father forgotten he had four children? The two insignificant ones were sitting in front of him so he couldn't have forgotten about us. Lola was a more terrifying miniature version of him, so he couldn't forget her and Nina was the next Pack Alpha so it was unlikely he forgot her either.

"Lola said she wants never to see, hear about, or receive any of dad's knitting ever after she heard him and mom talking about dad knitting her a quilt for her next birthday." Micah supplied helpfully. That sounded like something Lola would do.

"Pari can have it, I forfeit my rights to any of your knitted productions." Micah said, smiling far too widely for my liking.

"Forfeit? That's a big word, I'm surprised you know it." I said, a wide smile of my own growing on my face as I saw Micah's face fall, my father snickering into the weird cat/scarf clump.

My brother sneered at me, shoving me into the arm of the couch, his violence unable to get the smile off my face much to his displeasure.

"Never mind. Parisa's just fine, as disrespectful as usual." My brother hissed at me making me widen my eyes at my dad across the room as he looked back at me to ensure he caught onto how dramatic his only son was.

"I've heard disrespect halts your growth." Micah said after a moment of silence when I had gone back to mindlessly going through my phone because he was unable to stand living in peace. I felt a snarl rise in the back of my throat, wanting desperately to be let out. Height jokes were unacceptable.