36 Breakfast Again
36 Breakfast Again
Mara
Lucian and I walked hand in hand through the left wing, and for the first time in a long while, the staff smiled-genuinelys miled-when they saw us.
It reminded me of the joy they showed on our wedding day. But this was different. This was earned. Hard-won.
Austin beamed the brightest of all. I could almost hear the unspoken finally behind his grin.
Looking back, that trip had been exactly what we needed. Sharing a chalet-and a single bed-forced us into closeness we’d both been avoiding.
It wasn’t just about proximity. It was about letting go of everything we’d been holding back. And now, walking beside Lucian, my fingers laced with his, I didn’t feel uncertain anymore.
We could be a force-he and I. I felt it in the way his hand held mine with quiet confidence, in the way my heart didn’t panic at the thought of loving him.
I wasn’t ready to be fully claimed-not yet. But I knew the time was coming. My body would want it. My soul would crave it. And my wolf… she was already starting to stir.
Lucian led me gently toward the right wing’s breakfast lounge, and for a moment, everything felt calm-until we stepped
inside.
There she was.
Martha.
She was back, seated at the far end of the table like she’d never left. Darian was next to her, Tiffany glued to his side as
usual, and beside them sat an auburn-haired girl who had Martha’s nose and eyes. I guessed she was a relative-niece,
maybe.
I was a bit shocked seeing Martha return, but the moment quickly soured when Darian met my gaze.
That look-sorrowful, soft, regretful. As if he hadn’t had years to show he cared. I was done with it. Four years I waited.
Four years of him pretending not to notice how I felt, pretending I didn’t matter beyond being a friend. Now he looked at
me like / was the one who’d done something wrong.
I used to think I loved him. But love doesn’t leave you feeling invisible. It was infatuation-strong, foolish, and finally
fading.
Lucian pulled out a chair near his father’s and gestured for me to sit. I took my place beside him, aware of the scent I now
carried-his scent.
There was no mistaking it. Everyone at that table would know we’d crossed a line. We weren’t just tolerating each other
anymore. We were bonding.
I glanced at Lucian, wondering if part of this morning’s intensity had been intentional. A message. A claim.
We’re moving forward. We’re not playing anymore.
“Good morning, Luna Martha. Alpha Darian,” I said evenly, politely-but with no warmth.
Martha raised an eyebrow. “You should extend that same respect to Tiffany and Lacy, my niece.”
1 didn’t respond. I didn’t feel like pretending.
1/3
As Breakfast Agam
Lucian turned to her, voice clipped and firm.
“Mind how you speak to my wife, Martha. Tiffany and Lacy should also respect Mara-as my wife, and as future Gamma of the pack. Her position and her name command it.”
A sharp silence fell. Martha’s lips curved, but not unkindly. She didn’t flinch at his tone.
“My darling Lucian,” she said, voice light, “I didn’t mean it like that. I simply thought it impolite for Mara to greet Darian and me, and ignore the others at the table. But if you see it that way…” Her eyes flicked to me, calculating and cool. “Then you’re right.”
She smiled again. Not warmth. Strategy.
And I smiled back-because I knew how to play this game too now.
“Sorry, Mara,” Martha said, still smiling. “If my words came out wrong, that wasn’t my intention. I only meant that if you’re going to greet, you should greet everyone present-not just a few. I apologize if I offended you.”
She was smiling, but it didn’t ease the knot in my stomach. Martha didn’t change overnight. Her words were too smooth. Too measured. This wasn’t peace-it was a prelude. To what, I didn’t know yet. But something in me tensed.
Something was coming.
“How was your getaway?” she asked, voice still sweet. Too sweet.
I returned the smile, careful. “It was wonderful,” I said.
Lucian leaned in and pressed a kiss to my shoulder, slow and affectionate. It wasn’t just a display-it was a statement. I felt it, and so did everyone else.
Darian stood up abruptly, his chair scraping back. “I’m not hungry,” he muttered, clearly trying to escape.
“You will be when your father gets here and sees your chair empty,” Martha snapped, sharp and sudden. “Sit down.”
He obeyed, eyes red. He was barely holding it together, and I honestly didn’t care anymore. Whatever he was mourning, he
should’ve thought about it before he let me go.
A soft voice interrupted the tension. “Mara, nice to meet you. I’m Lacy-Luna Martha’s niece,” said the auburn-haired girl.
I turned to her and forced a polite smile. “Nice to meet you too.”
I didn’t want to be rude, but I had no energy left for people from Martha’s camp. Not today.
“Good morning, Lucian. Nice to meet you,” Lacy said, shifting her attention to him.
Lucian turned slowly, eyes cool. “It’s Mr. Nighthorn to you. And the pleasure isn’t mine.”
Tiffany let out a short laugh. I followed, unable to stop myself. It was the first time we’d ever shared anything resembling
humor.
Outsiders to this house of wolves, we both knew: you don’t charm your way into this family. You survive it.
I caught Tiffany’s eye, and for a second, we were just two women watching a clueless girl try to flirt her way through fire.
I also noticed the new softness in Tiffany’s figure-and Lacy’s not-so-subtle glances at my husband.
I didn’t blame her, really. Lucian had that effect. Stronger than Darian, more dangerous, more decisive. And far, far too handsome for his own good.
But he was mine.
And that was something the room was going to have to get used to.
