Chapter 53

Cara’s POV

A middle-aged and distinguished-looking man walks into the kitchen, hands raised in an obvious attempt to minimize the growing tension in the kitchen.

“What’s going on here?” He asks, looking at all of us gathered around.

I’m not yet certain who this man is, but when he speaks, the kitchen staff listens. He must have their respect. Does this John work here, too?

“John, you need to get HER,” a she-wolf points a finger at me, “out of here. We don’t need any help from the likes of her!”

I turn to John, trying to appeal to him, “I was just saying that I’m here because—”

“Because you want to feel better about yourself and laugh at us from your fancy throne!” one of the staff members fires at me.

“Now wait just a minute!” John’s tone is harsh and admonishing, and the staff stops their snickering at once.

He lays his briefcase on the table between us, and the hard leather case lands with a heavy thud. John unzips the case and reaches in to grab a handful of papers.

“Before you throw around any more of those poisonous words, you’ll want to see this,” he says sternly to the staff, holding the papers up to their eye level.

The staff members stare at the papers for a moment before their faces fall, all together in unison as if the movement had been choreographed. “SHE made the donation?!”

“But… but they all said—”

“They said she was arrogant now!”

“That she thinks she’s better than us now!”

Their voices join together, a loud cacophony of shock and awe.

Finally! Maybe now they will listen to the truth.

“It appears you have misjudged Ms. Cara Wilson,” John says to them before turning to look at me with a satisfied smile.

“Pleasure to see you again,” he says with a pleasant humor in his eye.

To see me again?!

Who is this?

Wait…

John… I study his face, my brain finally taking in what it’s seeing now that the tension has been somewhat relieved. He does look familiar…

Could this be Alaric’s servant John?!

“John?! What are you doing here?” I never expected to see him again.

I haven’t seen him since my accident six years ago. He looks older and more distinguished somehow.

“After you left, the Alpha King promoted me to Beta. It appears there weren’t that many folks left that the King could trust. I was honored to accept the position.”

“Congratulations,” I say to him with a genuine smile. I always found John to be a friendly and respectable worker, I’m happy to see him thriving.

Despite all of Alaric’s faults, he’s still the type of Alpha King that runs a pack where a servant can rise to the station of Beta. No matter what kind of man he is, no one can say he’s not a good leader.

“Thank you. The Alpha King sends his apologies for his delay. I came in his stead,” John says to me.

The angry she-wolf staff member looks between John and I with narrowed eyes. “So she gave us some money? So what?! I still don’t trust a princess to care about us low-borns…”

“That’s enough!” This came from a new voice. The voice was familiar, though I almost didn’t recognize the sound because of the harsh tone.

Into the kitchen walked the Pack House manager, the same desperate she-wolf who had phoned me the other day asking for my help. I might not have recognized her except for the shiny name tag affixed to her shirt.

“Cara Wilson will ALWAYS be welcome in this House!” she says passionately and definitively, staring directly at her kitchen staff.

The staff look down at their feet, guilty expressions on their faces.

“She’s here because I asked her to come.” The manager says, a bit softer this time.

“But why? We can take care of ourselves…,” one of the staff says carefully, still not ready to accept that I am not a threat.

“That might have been true in the past, but times are changing. We need to think of the children, the orphans who need us, more than our own pride. We need to accept the help that’s in front of us, for them.”

The manager’s voice is full of dignity and maturity, and I recognize at once why she was given the position as House manager. The keen abilities to both settle disputes and manage personalities are vital for any Pack House manager.

I like to think that spending years watching folks like this manager and my own Grandmother is what gave me the skills I have today.

At her comments, the staff looks deeply ashamed. After all, these people must have entered this line of work because of their desire to help the pack’s orphaned children. To worry about anything but the children’s best interests would be a dishonor to the Pack House itself.

“Sorry, Cara.”

“My apologies.”

“We overstepped…”

Their voices are sheepish and quiet, like they fear a fresh tongue-lashing from the Pack House manager.

“That’s alright, you didn’t know,” I say to them gracefully.

I understand their mistrust of nobility. I know what it feels like to have noses turned down at you everywhere you look.

When I was an orphaned child myself, I saw far more sneers than smiles from my pack mates, especially from the higher classes. The mean reactions from these staff members is borne from years of mistreatment that low-borns are forced to endure.

But if I have anything to do with it, that will change. Not just for my own Pack BloodyMoon, but for DarkWood, too. I can’t forget where I came from.

One of the staff, a younger she-wolf with wide, teary eyes, steps forward hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to say those things earlier. I just… I thought—” She falters, wringing her hands nervously. “It’s just hard sometimes, feeling like no one cares about us.”

Another staff member, an older man with graying fur around his temples, nods and adds, “We’ve been struggling for so long. When we heard about the donation, we thought it came from… someone else. We didn’t even know it was you. Please, forgive our foolishness.”

“I was wrong,” the younger she-wolf says softly, her voice cracking. “I judged you without knowing the truth. If there’s anything I can do to make up for it, please let me.”

One of them grabs a basket of freshly baked bread from the counter and hesitates before offering it to me. “Please, take this,” she says. “It’s not much, but it’s the least we can do to thank you.”

I shake my head gently, placing a hand over hers to stop her. “That’s not necessary,” I tell her with a warm smile.

“Your apology is enough. Let’s put the past behind us and focus on helping the children.”

The staff nod collectively, more upset, their expressions a mix of guilt and determination. I can see that their earlier hostility has been replaced by genuine remorse and a desire to make amends.

I check my watch and see that I’ve stayed later than I intended. I need to return to the hospital to discuss Mia’s appointment with the doctors.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” I say to the Pack House manager. “I must be going, but please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

The manager walks me to the door, thanking me for coming and apologizing again for her staff. I’m in the middle of telling her it’s no trouble at all when I’m interrupted by the buzzing of my phone.

I pull the device from my pocket and am surprised to see it’s my brother Aidan.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Cara! Have you seen Ryan?” Aidan sounds worried, which puts me on edge immediately. Aidan is normally the happy one, the jovial joking brother.

“He’s at his house with Ethan…” I start to say, realizing as the words come out of my mouth that Aidan must have already checked Ryan’s house. “Isn’t he?” I ask.

“No… I can’t find him, and he’s not answering his phone…” Aidan says distractedly, like he’s searching for Ryan while talking to me.

I mouth “Thank you” to the Pack House manager while I walk out of the door, still on the phone with Aidan.

Where could Ryan have gone? And is Ethan with him?!

Suddenly I turn and see Ryan’s car pull up in front of the DarkWood Pack House.

“MOMMY!” Ethan happily runs to me.

“He’s here.” I say to Aidan.

“In DarkWood?!” Aidan asks incredulously.

The passenger door of Ryan’s car swings open and I watch with my mouth agape as my son steps out.

“MOMMY!” Ethan happily runs to me.

My heart sinks.

Ethan is here.

In DarkWood territory?!