I grab a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, laying them on the bed, and I head for the shower.
Pretty sure Kat would not appreciate me walking in covered from head to toe in blood. If I risk it all and pull a stunt like that, she will know what I have been up to.
I shower quickly, but pay extra attention to my skin and hair. Getting blood out of my hair takes the most time, but I manage to finish, get dressed, and leave the house on time.
The drive there takes thirty minutes, and Kat is already waiting out front when I pull into her driveway. I reach over the passenger seat, open the door for her, and she climbs in.
“Seatbelt,” I instruct her when her butt hits the seat.
“They are uncomfortable,” Kat whines and crosses her arms in front of her chest.
Sometimes she acts like a child, so I remind myself that a little scolding or a harsher word won’t hurt her. Always the same damn argument. I don’t understand why she bothers. She tries to pull off the puppy-dog eyes to convince me I don’t need to force her to buckle up. I simply twist the key in the ignition and turn off my car. “We aren’t moving until you’re wearing your seatbelt,” I argue.
I know she is young, but her hissy fits will not work on me, Queen or not, she is still my sister.
She rolls her eyes before reaching for it. “Fine,” she grunts, clicking it into place before adjusting it around her stomach.
I smirk, nod, and start the car.
“You are just as bad as them,” she mutters under her breath as she reaches for the radio and flicks through the stations till she finds one she likes. After a moment of silence, Kat perks up and glances at me. “How is the pack?” She asks.
“Fine, working. What do you do in the birthing class thing?” I try to switch topics. The pack and any business revolving around it isn’t something I want to discuss with her.
It might sound selfish, but I want to use this chance as an escape from my everyday misery.
“Mainly breathing exercises,” she answers, glancing out the window as if the scenery is more interesting than my presence or the conversation she started.
I know I have no right to feel this way, but her lack of enthusiasm stings, just a little, but it does. Especially since I have no interest in going to this birthing class, the least she can do is make conversation. “Like meditation?” I spit out the first guess that crosses my mind.
“No, it’s more like a group of women sitting in a circle and panting like heifers. I believe it’s to see who turns red-faced first or whatever.” Kat explains and looks at me just to roll her eyes.
A corner of my lip twitches. It has to be Mateo who signed her up for this class. There’s no way she is the one who decided to join it. I know she hates meditation, remembering how she told me she was wasting her time every time I tried when I was trying to get her to shift.
But since I have this wonderful opportunity to annoy her, I grasp it. “You seem really interested in it,” I say to her sarcastically.
“Mateo signed me up for it,” she mutters, confirming my suspicion. “And besides, it gets me out of the house. Oh, take the next left,” Kat points her finger at the road.
I follow the directions she gives me in silence. We drive for a while until she points out a decent-sized house and tells me to park my car in the driveway.
“This is it?” I ask, studying the house. I take in the overall setting. The house reminds me more of a cottage, not a home. It has cottage-style gardens all around it and if that’s not enough to convince me, the building is an actual cottage – the location adds the final straw. Located just on the outskirts of the town.
Kat opens her door and clambers out. I quickly follow her and walk the small path leading to the house. Even from afar, I can hear the chatter of women and their partners inside the building.
As I open the front door and walk inside, the place smells heavily of lavender. The scent hits me so suddenly that I almost lose my balance because of how overwhelmingly powerful it is.
Once I scan the surroundings, the little water fountains and a huge room catches my attention. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that the owners of the building have gutted the house to open it up. A dark-haired woman walks over to us. Her hair is cut in a bob, which reminds me of an unsuccessful bowl cut attempt. Her eyes land on me, and she stops in mid-step.
“My Queen,” she acknowledges Kat, while still eyeing me. If this is her attempt to be subtle, I wonder if I should point out how obvious she’s actually being. “Alpha,” the woman nods her head to acknowledge my presence and returns her gaze to Kat.
She’s clearly beyond confused, and a part of me really wants to remind her of her place, but I can’t do that – it might upset Kat.
“Mateo couldn’t make it. So, this is Andrei, my brother.” Kat grins and places her hand on my shoulder, shaking my body a little.
“Oh, you brought your brother with you?” The woman drags out. At this point, she’s not even trying to act low-key, and both Kat and I notice how strange the woman thinks my presence is. Now I wish Derrick was around just to see her reaction to him coming here with her.
So what if my sister needs me during whatever red-faced breathing class she’s taking? As if anyone has the right to tell the Queen who she can ask to tag along or not. This isn’t weird, not at all.