Chapter 408 Ava: Comforting
Of course, | get no sleep.
My anxiety overruled my exhaustion, and | kept startling awake every twenty minutes. The dark circles under my
eyes are so pronounced, | might have to self-identify as a raccoon shifter.
It isn't that bad. Selene nudges my hand with her cold nose.
"It is, but thank you for lying to me." Rubbing her ears, | head toward the direction of the hospital. Or try to.
Selene's furry body blocks me, and one of my bodyguards actually grabsby my shoulders and turnsin
the direction of the cafeteria. | can smell eggs and something that smells suspiciously like bacon. Again, my
smell isn't as good as other shifters—but it's way better than a default human nose.
"I want to visit Ivy," | protest, even as my stomach rumbles.
"Alpha's orders. He said you need regular meals."
The young guard's blond hair sticks up in every direction, like he just rolled out of bed. His mild brown eyes dart
around, scanning for threats while pointedly avoiding my gaze. Hmm. He's smart. Probably knows I'm going to
try to persuade him to letcheck on Ivy first.
It's a lot harder to put pressure on someone who won't look at your face.
"You're new." | cross my arms, studying him. "What's your name?"
"Brett, Luna." His voice comes out steady, but his shoulders tense. He knows what's coming.
"Well, Brett, | appreciate your dedication, but—"
"Alpha's orders are clear." His tone remains firm. "Breakfast first."
My stomach betrayswith another loud rumble. The scent of bacon grows stronger, making my mouth water
despite my protests.
Our mate takes good care of us, Selene preens, her tail wagging. He knows you'd skip meals otherwise.
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Oh? Grimoire enters the mental conversation out of nowhere. How interesting. Didn't you use to despise Lucas,
Selene? Something about him being an arrogant, controlling, stupid—
That was before, Selene cuts him off with a snap of her teeth. Ava has chosen him. He's proven himself worthy.
They're already in fine form today.
"Where's Marcus? And Greg?" Ignoring their mild bickering, | pin my attention on the guard in front of me. There
are others, of course, but at a distance.
"They'll be back on rotation this evening, Luna."
A dissatisfactory answer. | can talk to Marcus. He would understand my desire to check on Ivy before heading to
breakfast. A fifteen-minute delay in scarfing down a plate or two of food isn't going to harm me, after all.
But this Brett guy seems devoted to following the letter of Lucas' demands.
A grouchy grunt escapes before | can stop it. "Brett. As Luna, | need to check on our esteemed guest. Her health
is a priority."
"As your guard, | need to ensure our esteemed Luna eats breakfast. Alpha's orders are my priority." Brett's mild
tone carries an edge of humor. "Besides, Vanessa threatened to sedateif | let you skip a meal."
Damn. Even she's in on this. "You're not supposed to admit to the threats." My lips twitch. "It ruins the whole
stoic guard image."
"| figure honesty might work better than stoicism." He shrugs, still not meeting my eyes.
Where did Lucas find this one? Probably dug around the pack until he could find someone who wouldn't get
sweet-talked into nudging the boundaries of his orders, damn it.
"Fine." | narrow my eyes. They might be able to keepfrom going to Ivy's room, but there's more than one
way to skin a wolf. "Now ask Vanessa how she's doing."
Brett's face slackens, his eyes unfocused. The telltale sign of mental communication. | tap my foot, waiting for
his report on Ivy's condition.
"Healer Vanessa seems well, Luna, though she snapped atfor interrupting her rounds."
"That's not—" My hands clench. "I want to know how Ivy's doing, not Vanessa."
One must be clear and concise when giving orders, Grimoire points out. He sounds amused.
He's just a young pup, Selene says, almost on top of him. Still learning.
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My eye twitches. Why are you both acting like | just verbally flayed him alive?
Selene's tail wags slowly. You get a touch bitchy without proper sleep.
"I do not!"
The mutt is correct. You do have a tendency toward bitchiness when you're tired.
Brett, to his credit, says nothing as he keeps steeringtoward the cafeteria.
The familiar scent of Elverly's cooking fills my nose as | push through the double doors.
"Leave your blasted guards outside! We don't have room for them to skulk about." Elverly's voice cracks through
the air like a whip.
I glance behind me, but no one followedin.
The serving station beckons, and | step toward it, ready to load up a plate.
"Sit down!" Another sharp command from the gnchef, who hasn't even looked at me.
My feet carryto the nearest table before my brain catches up. Moments later, Elverly appears at my elbow,
slamming down a plate piled high with eggs, bacon, and what looks like fresh biscuits.
"You look like shit."
A smile tugs at my lips. There's something oddly touching about her gruff concern. "Didn't sleep well."
She grunts, shuffling away only to return with a steaming mug of tea that she sets beside my plate. Brett
suddenly materializes at my elbow.
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"The patient's condition remains stable, Luna. No changes since last night." Brett's report releases sof the
tension in my shoulders. At least she isn't getting worse.
"Did | stutter?" Elverly snarls, hands on her hips as she looks him over. "No guards inside means no guards
inside!"
Brett's eyes widen as he holds up his hands. The gnis infamous throughout Wolf's Landing, and very few
people have the courage to stand up to her. "My apologies, ma'am." He backs toward the door, somehow not
tripping over anything. "I'll wait outside."
"Good." Elverly's sharp nod follows him out. "These wolves think they can do whatever they want in my kitchen."
The smell of fresh biscuits draws my attention back to the plate. Steam rises from perfectly scrambled eggs, and
the bacon looks crispy, just how I like it. My stomach growls again, louder this time.
See? Food is important. Selene's mental voice carries a note of satisfaction.
| pick up my fork, hiding my smile. There's something comforting about Elverly's cantankerous nature. She treats
everyone the sway—even Lucas gets snapped at sometimes. Once because he spilled his coffee on her
freshly mopped floor.
The first bite of eggs melts in my mouth. How does she make something as simple as scrambled eggs taste this
good?
Magic, Selene suggests.
Actually, it's technique, Grimoire corrects. The key is in the—
"It was a rhetorical question," I mumble around my mouthful of eggs.
"Stop dawdling and eat." Elverly appears again, this twith a jar of honey for my tea. "You're too skinny."
Her reluctantly loving care somehow has the ability to melt the anxiety that had weigheddown all night, and
| sip at my tea in between shoveling food into my face at an immodest pace.
Something's strange, Grimoire says, as every ward I've placed suddenly alarms.
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