STANLEY POV The grease pops in the pan again, and I jerk as the scorching hot liquid lands on my wrist. Fast healing doesn't eliminate pain, and I have always hated pain, but when your mate is just coming out of a two-week grief fast, you cook things that hurt you. "That smells great," Lewis groans as he comes into the massive new kitchen. He makes a beeline for my sizzling pan of bacon, and just as his fingers come into view, I swat at him. "Make your own when I am done. These are for Tabitha," I snap, and he groans again, but this groan sounds more painful than pleasurable. "Man, come on, have a heart. I am a starving wolf who just came in from feeding the livestock. You are really going to deny me protein. Have you been outside? It snowed like five feet last night. Come on," he whines, and I roll my eyes before tossing him the smallest strip. "Now get out of my ear. I have a half-starved mate to feed, and you have two capable hands," I say, and he chuckles before
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