Chapter 212

Ava

The kitchen was a flurry of activity as we prepared for the evening’s feast. I found myself assigned to the cooking staff, which was a relief. At least here, I could put my skills to good use.

The head cook, a plump woman named Martha, barked orders as we chopped, stirred, and seasoned. It seemed that all of the food had been grown or hunted here on the mountain, which came as no surprise; I couldn’t think of a single pack that Crescent Moon traded with.

And certainly, there were no human imports. I wasn’t even sure if the humans knew that Crescent Moon existed as anything more than a legend, if I was being honest.

“You there, new girl,” Martha called out to me, snapping her fingers. “How’s that venison coming along?”

I looked up from the pot I was tending and offered her a friendly smile. “Almost ready, Martha. Just needs a few more minutes to simmer.”

She nodded approvingly. “Good. You’ve got a knack for this. Unlike some of these louts,” she added, shooting a glare at a younger cook who was struggling with a batch of bread dough.

As I stirred the venison stew, I couldn’t help but smile a bit to myself. Under normal circumstances, I would have been fascinated to be here; Crescent Moon was so old-fashioned, it was like stepping back in time. There were no modern amenities, and even the clothes and the way that the pack members carried themselves spoke of an older time.

This, here, was our people’s history. If only I could enjoy it, immerse myself in it, rather than wonder how the hell to get Winston on our side.

Suddenly, I caught sight of a young maid hurrying through the kitchen with a small bundle in her arms. It took me a moment to realize it was a baby, but the girl couldn’t have been older than eighteen.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I called out to her as she passed by.

“Excuse me,” I said, “is that your baby?”

The maid paused, looking startled. “Oh, no. This is Alpha Winston’s daughter, Estella.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I didn’t know he had a child. May I see her?”

The maid hesitated for a moment before nodding. She came closer, tilting the bundle so I could see the tiny face nestled inside. My heart melted at the sight of those chubby cheeks and button nose.

“She’s beautiful,” I breathed. “How old is she?”

“Just a few weeks,” the maid replied with a grin. “Born at the last full moon. Isn’t she lovely?”

I felt a sudden longing to hold the baby, to feel that tiny weight in my arms. “Would you mind if I held her for a moment?”

The maid looked uncertain, but after glancing around to make sure Martha wasn’t watching, she carefully transferred the baby to my arms. The infant was warm and surprisingly heavy, her little fists waving in the air as she yawned and stretched.

As I cradled her, I couldn’t help but imagine having a child of my own someday. The thought of a little one with Chris’s eyes and my smile made my heart swell.

“I didn’t realize Alpha Winston was so young,” I commented, trying to keep my voice casual. “To have a newborn, I mean.”

The maid’s face fell. “He’s only forty.”

“And his wife?” I asked.

“She is—was—thirty-two.”

My eyebrows show up. “Was?”

The maid nodded, lowering her voice. “It was a difficult birth. She didn’t make it.”

My heart sank at the news. “Oh… That’s terrible. How is he coping?”

The maid shook her head. “He hasn’t even seen the baby. Not once since she was born. It’s like he can’t bear to look at her.”

“We named her ourselves,” Martha, who had apparently been listening, added. “He wouldn’t do it. Said it was a waste of time.”

I looked down at the innocent face in my arms, feeling a wave of sadness for both the child and her father. Could this explain Winston’s cold demeanor? The loss of his wife, the responsibility of a child he couldn’t bring himself to face?

Reluctantly, I handed the baby back to the maid. “Thank you for letting me hold her. She’s precious.”

As the maid hurried away, I turned back to my cooking, my mind whirling with this new information. The rest of the day passed in a blur, and before I knew it, it was time for the feast to begin.

I found myself assigned to serve wine, moving among the guests with a heavy pitcher. The higher-echelon pack members were all dressed in heavy velvets and furs, their attire fascinating and beautiful and speaking to a different time.

As I made my rounds, I kept an eye out for Winston, hoping for a chance to speak with him. My opportunity eventually came when I saw him raise his empty goblet. I hurried over, the pitcher at the ready.

“More wine, Alpha Winston?” I asked, careful to keep my tone respectful. He nodded curtly, and I began to pour. Taking a deep breath, I decided to take a chance. “Alpha Winston,” I said softly, “I understand that you have a daughter. Congratulations.”

His eyes snapped to mine, cold and hard. “Hardly. I wanted a son.”

I blanched at his harsh words but kept my voice steady as I asked a question that I already knew the answer to. “What about your wife? How is she doing after the birth?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Winston froze, his hand trembling as he gripped his wine goblet. I couldn’t tell if he was furious at my question or overcome with grief. Maybe both.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “She died during childbirth.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Winston didn’t respond, merely waving me away. I noticed something, though, as he waved his hand: a watch on his wrist. So out of place amongst the period atmosphere. It immediately piqued my interest.

“Alpha Winston,” I said, pointing, “is that a Rolex?”

Winston froze, glancing down at the watch for a moment before hastily covering it with his sleeve as if ashamed. “It was a gift.”

“It’s a nice watch. Whoever gave it to you must have gone out of their way to get it here.”

Winston grunted in response, officially turning his attention away from me.

As I walked back to my station, my mind raced. I had learned two things tonight: that he was not only grieving, but that he also possessed a human invention. Interesting, I thought to myself. I wasn’t sure what to make of that tidbit yet, if anything.

But more importantly, there had to be something I could do to help soften the ice around his heart. Maybe if he just held his daughter, heard her laugh…

After the feast, as I helped clean up, I sought out the maid I had met earlier. I found her in a small side room, rocking the baby and looking utterly exhausted. Her eyes were barely staying open.

“Would you like me to watch her for a while?” I offered. “You look like you could use a break.”

The maid’s tired eyes lit up with relief. “Oh, would you? That would be wonderful. I haven’t had a moment of rest all day.”

She quickly showed me where the baby’s things were kept and gave me a few instructions before gratefully handing over the child and hurrying off to get some rest.

I spent the next hour wandering the quieter halls of the castle, humming softly to the baby and bouncing her in my arms. It felt so natural, so right. I found myself daydreaming again about having a child of my own, wondering what it would be like to raise a family with Chris someday.

As I turned a corner, lost in my thoughts, I nearly ran into someone. Looking up, I found myself face to face with Chris. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of me holding the baby, the grin on my face widening.

“Ava, whose baby is that...?”