Chapter 7

Mara

The dining room is one of the smallest places I’ve seen so far. It’s big enough to hold a six-seater table, carved by hand like everything else, a sideboard and serving trolley piled high with food and plates.

There’s enough room to move around, but no one’s going to throw any lavish parties in here. I get the feeling that it’s Johnathan’s private dining room, but somewhere in this massive mansion there must be some kind of reception hall for parties. 

Wolves love to throw parties.

Preston is sitting at the end of the table with a lovely blonde woman next to him. She’s dressed comfortably in a strappy sundress. I remember when I was able to wear clothes like that. Jealousy tucks at my heart - not because the girl is a hundred times more beautiful than I am, but because she has the kind of freedom I’ve forgotten.

“Hello,” she chirps and sits upright. “I’m Ally, Preston’s mate. You are Mara right?”

I nod and smile at her. Like everyone else in Haven’s Crest, she’s almost uncomfortably nice. “Yes,” I say in a soft, demure little voice. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Jonathan loudly clears his throat and steers me to the head of the table. To the left of him and directly opposite me sits a boy who is almost an exact carbon copy of Johnathan. The only difference are their eyes. The boy has beautiful, clear, blue eyes.

He’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen, with his chubby cheeks and fat little fingers. I forget all about the adults in the room and focus on the child. “I guess you’re Gregory, right? Your daddy told me all about you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says very politely. “Awe you my new mommy?”

My heart melts into a puddle of goo. I always liked children, but I have no clue how to answer his question. “I am not your mommy,” I say when no one else offers an answer. 

“Do you want to be my mommy?” Gregory asks.

Feeling helpless, I look to Johnathan who regards us with an amused grin on his face. He leans over and ruffles the boy’s black hair. “We spoke about this buddy,” he says, his voice filled with warmth. “Mara and I aren’t married yet.”

The boy pouts a little and defiantly crosses his arms over his chest. “But you said when Mawa gets heaw she’ll be my mommy.”

I try not to grab the boy and run with him. I’ll happily be his mommy. I know what it’s like to grow up without a mother. Every child deserves to have a mommy who’ll love and protect them.

Johnathan looks at me, his face filled with consternation. No one’s ever looked at me that way, wordlessly asking for help.

“I’ll be your friend,” I offer up. “At least for now. How’s that?”

That seems to mollify the boy a little. He gives me a wavering smile, but I see the tears pooling in his lovely blue eyes. He’s trying very hard not to cry, taking in deep breaths as he attempts to get his emotions under control.

Johnathan shouldn’t have made promises like that to Gregory. I can never be the boy’s mother, not really. 

Without thinking about it, I walk around Johnathan’s chair to the trolley and start to uncover the dishes. “Uh, what are you doing?” the Alpha asks.

“Serving you,” I say without missing a beat.

“No, you’re not,” he says. “Sit down.” He pats the seat to his right. The official Luna’s place.

I glance at Preston and his mate who are looking at me with matching shocked expressions on their faces. 

I blush all the way to my roots. “I- I’m sorry,” I stutter. “I forgot. Old habits.”

“It’s all right,” Ally says. “Preston told me your ex-mate was a brute.”

Does everyone know? I don’t want people to know about my shame. I lower my gaze and walk back to my seat. At the same time, the Alpha gets up and pulls my chair out. I sit down and allow him to slide my seat under my ass.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Ally goes on. “A lot of she-wolves here fled mates like yours.”

I want to crawl under the table and die.

“That’s enough,” Johnathan says and retakes his seat. “Mara’s past is not open for discussion. How would you like it if we start to discuss your past, Ally?”

The girls blushes and goes very quiet.

A door swings open and Chad enters with a smile on his face. Wordlessly, he starts to take plates from the serving trolley, loading every dish with food, serving Johnathan first, then me, Gregory, Preston and last of all, Ally.

When he’s done he moves to the corner where he awaits any orders, his hands folded in front of him.

He may not dress like a conventional butler, but he behaves like one.

‘Bwoccoli?” Gregory says and pulls a face. “I hate bwoccoli.”

“Then don’t eat it,” Johnathan says as he picks up his utensils.

“It’s touching my food!” the boy protests.

“I hate broccoli too,” I say as I watch the petulant child. “Do you know what I like to do when someone puts broccoli on my plate?” I ask and start to plant the broccoli florets in my mash so they’ll look like little trees. “I like to pretend I’m a dinosaur.”

“Dinosaws eat meat. Like wolves.”

“Some dinosaurs eat vegetables. Did you know the biggest dinosaurs in the world only ate veggies? And we are not all wolf right? We are part human, so you need to eat your veggies so you can grow up to be big and strong like your daddy.”

I pull my hair back, lean over and grab a broccoli tree between my teeth before I suck it into my mouth. “Num num,” I growl softly. “I’m a dinosaur, eating my veggies.”

Gregory giggles and starts to plant his broccoli. I glance at Johnathan who is looking at me with a deep frown between his eyes. The way we’re eating is rude. Bad manners. “Remember,” I say quickly, “we can only do this when Daddy doesn’t have company over, or we’ll give away our secret.”

“Whatch ow secwet?” Gregory asks around a mouth full of broccoli.

“That we know vegetables makes the biggest, strongest Alphas in the world.”

I give Johnathan a sideways glance. The frown is gone and there’s a small smile on his lips. He gives me an approving little nod, picks up his knife and fork and starts to eat.

Even though I suddenly feel very vulnerable and exposed, I finish eating my broccoli like a dinosaur because it makes Gregory happy, and every time I snatch the vegetables between my teeth, he giggles and does the same.

When I’m done, I wipe my face and watch with satisfaction as Gregory does the same. Then we both pick up our utensils and dig into our food.

Everyone eats in complete silence. The only sound is that of knives and works scraping against the plates, and soft polite chewing. Johnathan only speaks once - to ask Chad for more wine.

It’s unnerving, and I’m so unsettled by the unnatural quiet that I don’t dare to open my mouth. My father was a stickler for proper table manners, but at least we made polite dinner conversation.

At eight on the dot, a middle-aged woman enters the dining room. “Master Gregory,” she announces in a thick accent that I can’t quite place, “it is time for your bath.”

“I want Mawa to do it!” Gregory protests.

I look at Johnathan who nods his approval. Frankly, I’m relieved to get out of here. Besides, I enjoy the little boy’s company. Children don’t see what adults see. They don’t judge based on appearance or rank. They simply accept people for who they are.

Gregory hops off his chair as I get up and runs around the table to place his sticky hand in mine. “Can you tell stowies, Mawa?”

“I’ve never tried,” I say as we walk from the dining room. “I’ll guess we’ll find out together if I'm any good at it.”