The oven beeps that it’s up to temperature, so I slide the pan of garlic bread inside. As soon as I shut the door, I hear my mother’s truck rumble down the driveway. She’s had that old clunker since before I was born and refuses to get rid of it until it completely dies.
I open the front door and lean against the frame just as they pull up. Kara gets out of the truck, and my eyes instantly fall to her rolled-up jeans; they’re wet and covered in sand.
Kara smiles over at my mom and waves. “Thanks for today.”
Shutting her door, my mother grins back. “And thank you. We’ll do it again.”
Kara nods and walks up the stairs, stopping in front of me with an unreadable expression on her face. She’s the only female I’ve been around who I can’t figure out.
She glances down at her pants and then meets my gaze. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to change clothes.”
Smiling, I step out of her way. “I can see that.”
Kara moves past me into the house, and I wait until her bedroom door shuts before turning to my mother and stepping down the stairs. “I’m assuming it went okay today?”
She props her elbow up onto the hood of the truck. “Very well, actually.”
“Did she give you attitude?” I ask. Kara has a mouth on her.
My mother swings her head no. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She points at the house. “She’s a troubled soul, that one. But there’s good in her. I got a glimpse of who she truly is behind those high walls she has built up around her heart.” Her eyes twinkle. “It’s going to take someone she can trust to break them down.”
I know that expression on her face. She waggles her brows, and I bark out a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re thinking but she’ll never trust me.” Shaking my head, I throw my arms up into the air. “She’s hated by everyone in the pack. Why would she trust us?”
My mother shrugs. “You don’t hate her. And neither do I. Learning how to forgive is a part of life.” That’s easier said than done. She comes over, gives me a hug, and kisses my cheek. “She wants to trust someone, son. You’re the only one I can think of to help her.”
The problem is that Kara’s too high and mighty to ask for help.
My mother gets in her truck and waves before heading up the driveway and out of sight. When I get inside, Kara is still upstairs, so I go into the kitchen to finish dinner. There’s a bottle of her Channon Vineyards Chardonnay on the table with two full glasses ready for us.
The garlic bread is toasted to perfection, so I pull it out of the oven and set it aside. And then, I drain the noodles, stir the spaghetti sauce, and grab two plates out of the cabinet just as Kara strolls into the room, dressed in a clean pair of jeans with the same cream sweater from before. Only now, her platinum blonde hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, showing off her delicate neck. What’s crazy is that there’s nothing fragile about her. She’s the hardest woman I know.
Moving back to the sauce, I stir it and glance at her over my shoulder. “Heard you had a good day.”
She shrugs and tilts her head to the side to see what I’m cooking. “It wasn’t what I expected. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed someone’s company.”
Throwing my head back, I laugh. “Ouch. Guess that means you don’t enjoy mine.”
Kara moves closer so she’s right by my side, her gaze landing on the food. “Sorry to disappoint you. Your mother’s older, wiser. I relate to her more.”
“Damn,” I tease, handing her a plate. “You’re a hard ass, you know that?”
She takes the plate. “So I’ve been told.” Her stomach growls as she leans over the pot of spaghetti sauce. “Do you cook often?”
When she meets my gaze, I smile and pile a mound of noodles onto my plate, covering them completely with the meat sauce. “I do.” I wink at her once I’m done. “Then again, I don’t have a mate to do it for me.”
Her eyes narrow and she scoffs. It’s exactly the reaction I thought I’d get from her. “Is that what you expect?” she grumbles, her voice laced with disgust.
My chest fills with laughter. “I was joking, princess. Calm down.” I move to the table and sit while she fixes her plate. “My parents love to cook together so I learned early on,” I add as she takes her place across from me.
She glances over at the bottle of her wine and a slight smile caresses her lips. Of course, it disappears quickly when she lifts her eyes to mine. “What do you want in a mate? I’ve come across a lot of alphas in my time. And I must say, I’m not impressed. Most just want someone to be there for their every waking need.”
Not all alphas are like that, but she’s right. I’ve known many who would prefer their mates to stay at home, cook and clean, and pop out a few pups. “I’m not like that,” I reply, all joking aside. “There’s nothing sexier than an independent woman. Don’t get me wrong, I want my mate to depend on me to be there for her, but I also want her to be strong. Mates are supposed to work together, to be equal.”
She stares at me for a few seconds with those crystal blue eyes of hers but then they drop to her food. We eat in silence for a while, stealing glances here and there. Soon, she finishes off her wine and pours another glass.
“Did you love Zayne?” I ask, breaking the silence.
The glass pauses at her lips, and she sets it down, her body growing tense. She only has a small portion of spaghetti left but she pushes it around her plate. “Yes,” she answers, her voice clipped. “But it was a long time ago and we weren’t meant to be.” The sadness rolls off her in waves. She stabs her fork into the spaghetti, and it falls against the plate with a clank. The air in the room turns electric and her anger builds; I struck a nerve. “He let the pack banish me,” she growls, picking up her full glass of wine. After quickly downing it, she pushes the glass aside. “I didn’t want the power, Chase. My family did. I was left in the dark with nowhere to turn. And right now, I’m in the same spot, only worse. I’m a prisoner inside of my own body.” She waves a hand around the room. “And out of it as well. I’m stuck here. I don’t even feel like a wolf anymore.” Her cheeks turn blood red, and she looks away as if embarrassed. With an exasperated huff, she picks up her plate and carries it over to the sink. “I’m done for the night, so I think I’ll go to my room. I need to call and check on my vineyards.”
Without hesitation, I jump to my feet and the words spill out of my mouth. “I can take you there if that’s what you want. We can hop on my jet and be in Virginia in no time.”
Kara rinses off her plate and sets it in the dishwasher. Slowly, she turns to face me, her brows furrowed. “Seriously? You would do that?” I nod, and a spike of outrage flashes in her eyes. “What about when the weather turns? Right now, my vines are protected, but what happens when it’s time to harvest? If I’m stuck as your prisoner, visiting just once every now and again, isn’t going to work.” Her hands begin to shake. “That vineyard is all I have.” Tears well up in her eyes, and she storms out of the kitchen.
I follow her. “You’re not a prisoner, Kara,” I utter, waiting for her to stop.