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“Works for me,” I agreed, waving at the three of them before heading inside. The house was silent, and I knew that Leven was likely still sleeping, so I carried the food into the kitchen to put away, startling at the sight of an older man resting against the counter and nursing a cup of coffee.
“Well, hello there,” he greeted with a smile. I could see the similarities in him and his grandson, though without the constant scowl it was a bit strange.
“I take it you’re Leven’s grandfather?” I asked as I smiled back. “Muffin?”
“I am, and I’d love one,” he said, taking one form the basket while I unloaded sandwiches, fruit trays, and salads into the fridge. “I’m Garren.”
“Vanya,” I returned. “Nice to meet you.”
“Are you staying here? Leven mentioned someone staying for a bit,” he asked around a bite.
“I am, just until probationary period is over.” I shrugged. “Then I’m not sure.”
“Well, I’ll be glad to have someone else to talk to around here,” he said with a conspiratorial grin. “Leven isn’t much of a talker.”
“I’ve gathered that.” I laughed, unable to stop myself. There were a lot worse things I could say about the man. The loud footfalls in the hall told me he wasn’t a fan of the conversation.
“You’re done with the morning shift?” he questioned in a harsh tone that would make a lesser wolf cower.
“Obviously,” I said with a sigh.
“Good. You can go pull weeds in the garden,” he ordered. “We don’t have gloves small enough for you, but you’ll be all right. I expect it cleared by lunch.”
“Leven,” Garren started but he cut off when the asshole gave him a sharp look.
“Fine,” I said, heading outside instead of yelling something else at him. There was a part of me that was positive this was not how Callum intended this. Proving myself was one thing, working me to the bone was another. It seemed Leven wasn’t great on boundaries, but I’d play this little power exchange for now.
There was a small shed outside, so I went there, grabbing out a bucket and trowel, hoping that would be enough since he made mention of not having gloves for me.
The garden was long overgrown, the weeds more prominent than the plants this time. Clearly this wasn’t a priority before now, it was just a way to get me out of the house. If he didn’t want me here this badly, why couldn’t I stay somewhere else?
Grumbling to myself, I settled down on my knees in front of the raised flower bed and got to work. My hands started burning about an hour in, throbbing not long after. By the time I’d cleared all five beds, I was shaking with the pain of it. Even worse, I was so mad I was near tears and that wasn’t helping.Fucking hate emotions and I fucking hate asshole wolves with a chip on their shoulder.
Going inside, I winced as I tried to turn the knob, taking a good three tries before I even got a decent hold.
“Lunch is ready,” Leven said as I walked past but I didn’t even stop.
“Not hungry,” I bit out as I stalked for the nearest bathroom. My voice had wavered, and I knew I’d be called out for that later, but for now all I could think about was making the pain stop.
Turning on the water, I washed my hands, screaming internally as it felt like every nerve ending was on fire. Now that they were clean, I could see the plethora of blisters and some sort of rash on my palms. Tears slid down my cheeks as I found bandages and tried wrapping it, but my hands were now shaking so badly it was impossible.
A knock on the door had me taking a few steady breaths.
“Yes?”
“What’s wrong.” It was a demand, not a question and it only made my building frustrations worse.
“Nothing. I’m not hungry,” I growled. The door wrenched open and I gasped, almost stumbling back as he crowded the door frame. He huffed out angry breaths as he glared down at me. “Don’t come in here being disrespectful and think I won’t resolve it.”
“What are you going to do, give me more work?” I challenged, picking up the bandages from the floor where I dropped them and setting them on the counter. I tried to move past but he shifted to block me, big enough it was impossible to get out.
“What are those for?”
“They cover wounds and blisters,” I said in a condescending tone. He moved so quick it startled me again, reaching out and snatching my wrist.
“What is this?”
“The result of not having gloves to do garden work. But don’t worry, the beds are cleared,” I ground out. “Now please let me go.”
