Page 66 of Hunter Moon

41

Aspen

The rest of Brook’s heat passed in an instant, and it felt just like old times.

Unlike in most werewolf households, heats were nothing in the Morgan home. When I wandered into the kitchen in nothing but my jeans, looking like death warmed over, Rhonda and Shiloh didn’t give a secret smile, or giggle and look away, they met my eye and nodded. There was a camaraderie there that I’d only ever gotten in my unit before. It wasn’t that we were closer than family, though the Morgans had been as much family to me as my own. It was that we were all soldiers in the same fight, dealing with the stress of a heat, but without romanticizing it into something it wasn’t, or shamed over a hint of sex like little kids.

“He ready for something a little stronger than finger food?” Rhonda asked, as she pulled blueberry muffins out of the oven. God, I hoped he was, because if I couldn’t get my hands on one of those muffins, I might cry.

I wasn’t gonna lie, though, not even for Rhonda’s lemon-blueberry muffins. “Think he will be when he wakes up. He just finally nodded off for the night.”

As though led by instinct, we all glanced at the clock on the microwave. Ten in the morning.

Instead of any judgment, they both nodded.

“What, you’re not sneaking out while he’s asleep?” came the cutting comment.

Okay, so Rhonda and Shiloh didn’t have anything nasty to say to me. Harmony was still not a fan.

After three straight days of being up at all hours, trying to take care of Brook while he was out of it, making sure he ate and slept, and trying to somehow sneak in naps and food for myself while Brook slept, I didn’t have the patience or stamina left to beg for her understanding.

“I did, actually,” I pointed out, hooking my thumb in the direction of the bedroom. “He’s asleep, and I snuck out to get food. Maybe shower, and ask if I can use your washing machine, since my clothes have seen cleaner days.”

Rhonda waved me off. “Of course, Aspen. You’ve used it a thousand times. You know where it is.”

Then I turned my best puppy eyes on Shiloh. “And I guess I owe you another apology. I’ve missed our appointment.”

Instead of seeming annoyed, she laughed. “I think this time can be forgiven.”

Harmony snorted. “Of course. Because we can never hold alphas accountable.”

“For their behavior, Harm,” Shiloh said, turning to her sister with a sigh. “Aspen was an ass, and we’re all still pissed at him about it. He did something to deserve that. But I’m not gonna be mad at him for skipping an appointment with me in order to help Brook through his heat. That would be ridiculous.”

“Did he call you?”

“He was in the room next to mine. I didn’t really need a call.”

Harmony pulled the fridge open too hard, making the jars in the door jangle together nervously. “Sure. Just boys being boys.”

Rhonda stepped in front of her to grab the butter from the fridge, then turned to set it on the table, next to the plate with all the muffins. She winked at me, holding out the butter knife in my direction. “Best get that muffin down and get to showering before he wakes up. We’ll be sure to leave a few for you to take to him when you’re done.”

I glanced between her and her youngest a couple of times, because, well... was she just gonna ignore her? I thought that Harmony was being a little over the top, but if everyone had been telling me the truth over the last few weeks, I was the next best thing to a deadbeat dad for her. Looking at it that way, it was a little hard to be salty at her, even if I thought she was being a jerk.

I’d have been a jerk to my dad too if he’d abandoned me. Didn’t much matter how nice or well-intentioned he was. Abandonment sucked, especially by someone you trusted on such a deep level. Your dad was someone you couldn’t mentally defend against. He was supposed tobeyour first line defense.

If someone hurt my daughter that way, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to forgive him. But there was Rhonda, giving me a maternal look, handing me a plate for muffins, and ignoring her daughter huffing and muttering behind her.

I sat down at the kitchen table, nodding and quietly thanking her as I took a muffin out of its little silicone cup, split it in half, and slathered butter on it.

Then I looked down at it all, frowning. “Lin’s mate was talking about all that Sterling stuff. Do you—” And how was I supposed to end that sentence?

The Morgan family had never suffered with the Condition. They’d always been as healthy as any other werewolves, untouched by the illness that had swept the world.

So instead of finishing the sentence, I motioned to the food and turned to them, my brows drawn together in concerned curiosity.

Rhonda bit her lip and glanced at the butter dish. “Well, Isaac eliminated the Sterling things from the market late last month, and Linden’s been talking to all the pack omegas about it. But I—” She glanced at the butter again, like maybe it was her racist old uncle, and she was thinking better of inviting him to dinner. “We’ve just never gotten sick, so I didn’t think there was any harm finishing things if we already had them.”

“Are you fucking serious, Mom?” Harmony demanded, whipping around to stare at her mother, wide-eyed. “We have, like, actual poison in the house? Are you feeding Aspen poison?”

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