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I didn’t want to admit it, but the afternoon was amazing. The pack members were friendly, and the shops had lots of fun items in them. Isolde had helped me purchase a few outfits and order some custom-made dresses from Helen’s shop. The Beta female was funny and bright. After a few minutes, it felt like we were long-lost friends. I hadn’t laughed that much since before Blythe and I were separated.
I think she would like it here, my wolf said.
Her words were a punch to the solar plexus. Would she? Was that something worth considering?
Maybe, I replied.
The day—the pack—was nothing like I had expected.
The sun warmed my skin as Isolde and I walked through the center of the village toward the food center.
I wondered what it took to manage a place like this. What was it like to be responsible for the happiness of so many and actually fulfill that responsibility?
We stopped at a bakery called Cynful Sweets.
“I’m telling you, Cynthia makes the best apple strudel you’ll ever eat,” Isolde said, patting her belly.
Wind chimes sang as we passed through the front door. The smell of sugar, butter, and cinnamon wafted around us. The walls were white shiplap with mint accents, and pastel decorations adorned a display case filled with delicious-looking confections.
“Is that our newest resident?” a sweet voice asked.
An Alpha female with dark hair and big brown eyes rounded the counter.
“You bet,” Isolde replied. “I wasn’t going to take her around town without stopping at my favorite bakery. Cynthia, this is Brielle.”
“Nice to meet you.” She extended her hand toward me but pulled it away and bashfully wiped it on her apron. “Sorry about that. I’m a bit sugary from the cookie batter.”
I smiled. “No worries. The smell is making me hungry, though.”
“That’s my favorite thing to hear. Why don’t you ladies grab a table, and I’ll put together a sample plate for you?” Cynthia asked.
“Goddess, you’re an angel,” Isolde said.
“I have ulterior motives. I’m trying to be the favorite auntie.” Cynthia laughed as she headed toward the kitchen.
We chose a table outside beneath a cluster of shady trees. Cynthia came out five minutes later with a large tray of donuts, muffins, cakes, cookies, tarts, and strudels. Near the back was a pot of tea and two cups.
“This looks amazing,” I said, my mouth already watering.
“I had to give you a reason to come back.” Cynthia placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Welcome to the pack, Brielle. Enjoy your snack.”
I cleared my throat as emotions I couldn’t identify swelled within me.
Isolde smiled knowingly. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”
“What is?” I asked.
“To feel like you’re wanted.”
It was. But the words I wanted to say died on my tongue. I was overwhelmed by the realization that I hadn’t once felt the need to guard myself. Instead of telling Isolde how I felt, I gave her a noncommittal smile and reached for a tart.
“So, how are you liking the tour so far?” Isolde asked over her cup of hot tea.
I chewed a large bite of my apple strudel and said, “Everything is great. Honestly, I’m still trying to make sense of it all.”
A curious twinkle lit her eyes. “Is it not what you expected?”
