His Stray

Chapter 9

Present Day

Celia got to the kitchen earlier than usual. She had tossed and turned all night. Even if she could have shut her mind off long enough to sleep, Ariadne would not have let her. Her wolf had paced and whined, restless with wanting their mate.

Celia did not have a good answer for her, mostly because part of her wanted him too. She had wanted him for years. She had lost count of how many nights she had cried herself to sleep after he left.

She pushed open the kitchen door, expecting to find it still halfway cleaned like she had left it the night before. Instead, she froze. The kitchen was spotless. Counters wiped, pots put away, the floor swept. Everything was right where it needed to be.

Her heart gave a painful little squeeze. Of course it had been Lucas. No one else would have bothered. Or thought to do it for her.

She let out a long breath, uncertain how to feel. It was such a small thing, but it twisted her up inside. She was grateful. Annoyed. Touched. And it scared her, too, just how easily he could still slip back into her world.

Trying to shove it aside, she grabbed her apron and got to work. She pulled vegetables from the cooler to start prepping for lunch and dinner. The repetition of chopping and measuring helped settle her nerves.

She was halfway through dicing onions when the kitchen door swung open. Celia turned, expecting one of the early staff, but her knife paused mid-cut when she saw Landon standing there.

“Morning,” he said gruffly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Morning,” Celia replied carefully, setting down the knife. “Can I help you with something?”

Landon didn’t answer right away. His eyes swept the kitchen before settling back on her. “Lucas was at your house last night.”

Celia’s stomach twisted. “How did you know that?”

Landon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I ran into him on his way back to the pack house.” He glanced around before looking at her again. “Look, Celia, I know it’s none of my business, but maybe it’s not so smart to get mixed up with him again.”

She bristled. “Why not?”

He looked at her like he couldn’t believe she needed it explained. “Because he’s the alpha’s heir. You remember what he was like before he left, even when he wasn’t officially the heir? How he used to hide you? How careful he was so no one knew how close you two really were?”

Celia flinched. That stung more than she wanted to admit. “He and I talked about that. We agreed…”

Landon huffed, cutting her off. “You deserve better than being someone’s dirty little secret. And that’s what you’ll be if you let him pull you back in. He’s got expectations on his shoulders. Being around someone like you isn’t exactly going to win him any favors.”

“Someone like me?”

He looked away, jaw flexing. “You know what I mean.”

A bitter laugh caught in her throat. “Yeah. The stray. The witch. The one nobody can quite place.”

His eyes darted back to hers, troubled. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” She picked the knife back up, but her hands shook. “My relationship with Lucas is complicated.”

“It’s always complicated with Lucas.” There was a sharper edge now, almost raw. “I’ve watched it for years.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not about to just fall back into things with him.”

“I want to believe that.”

“He left me!” Her voice cracked, and the knife clattered onto the cutting board. Onion pieces scattered across the counter. “Don’t you think I remember that? That I wasn’t even worth a goodbye?”

She turned away quickly, blinking back tears.

Silence stretched. Then softer, Landon said, “I don’t want to see you hurt again. Not after your mom. Not after what he did.”

When she glanced back, he was standing with both hands tangled in his hair, frustration etched into every line of him.

Something bubbled up inside her then, a question she had never dared voice before.

“Why is Lucas the heir anyway? You’re older. Shouldn’t it have been you?”

Landon’s mouth twisted into something like a smirk, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Because life’s funny like that. Or maybe my dad just thought one disappointment was enough.”

She blinked at him, startled by the cold sarcasm. But before she could press, the door swung open and Darcy walked in, eyes wide.

“Oh. Sorry. Didn’t know you were in here, Landon.”

“It’s fine,” Landon said, already turning toward the door. He paused, looking back at Celia. “Just think about what I said.”

Then he was gone, leaving Celia standing there with her knife and cutting board, an odd sinking sensation in her stomach.

Darcy cleared her throat awkwardly. “What was that about?”

Celia looked at her friend, blinking. “Nothing. It was… just nothing.”

Darcy pursed her lips as she watched Celia. “Were you crying?”

“No,” Celia scoffed. “It was just the damn onions.”

“Right.” Darcy nodded, her expression saying she didn’t believe her for a second.

**

Breakfast blurred into lunch like it always did. As soon as the morning rush ended, they were already deep into lunch prep. Brady washed and set out fresh dishes. Hazel cleaned off tables and restocked condiments. Darcy and Celia cooked and filled the warming trays just in time for the first wave of warriors finishing training.

Celia loved how busy the kitchen kept her. It left little room to think about anything else. And today, more than ever, she needed that. Tasks she could control were safer than the mess swirling around her heart.

When the lunch rush finished, they usually had a few hours before starting on dinner. Most of the prep was already done. It was their chance to rest before the last push of the day.

They were close to wrapping up when Brady let out a curse, smacking his hand on the cover of the industrial dishwasher.

“What’s wrong?” Celia called, looking up from where she was putting pots away.

“The cover isn’t closing all the way,” he complained, striking it again. “It won’t start the rinse cycle if it won’t latch.”

She watched him flip it up and check the basket, making sure nothing was sticking out before he tried again. Sure enough, the cover caught about an inch from closing.

“We’ve needed a new one forever,” Darcy muttered. “But you know the alpha won’t give us the money.”

“They’re expensive,” Celia sighed. She had spoken to the alpha last year about how badly they needed a new machine, but he had brushed her off. “Call Philip. See if he can take a look today or tomorrow.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Hazel asked.

“We’ll use disposables for dinner and handwash the pots and pans.” Celia rubbed her lower back. “I’ll talk to the alpha again about a new dishwasher.”

Brady rolled his eyes. “He’ll just say no… again.”

She shrugged. “Probably, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Maybe when Lucas takes over, he’ll actually listen,” Hazel muttered.

Celia frowned. Growing up, she would have said Lucas was nothing like his father. Part of her still believed that. But the other part was still trying to fit together all the shattered pieces of her heart.

Once they finished handwashing the last two loads, Celia said goodbye to her crew and reluctantly climbed the steps to the second floor. She usually avoided the pack house on principle, but now she was painfully aware of every corner where she might run into Lucas.

She reached the alpha’s office and knocked, her stomach twisting. She hated talking to this man, but she knew the dishwasher would not fix itself.

“Come in,” his rough voice barked.

Celia opened the door and froze. Alpha Marcus sat behind his desk, wearing a blood red shirt and gray tie. He leaned back, fingers drumming on the wood. But it was the two men sitting in front of him that made her still.

Lucas and Landon each sat in a chair opposite their father. Lucas stilled when he saw her, swallowing hard. She watched the motion of his throat, trying not to remember how that felt under her lips.

Landon leaned back, smirking.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not, Miss Rockwell,” Marcus said calmly. “My boys were just heading out anyway.”

With that clear dismissal, the brothers stood and moved toward the door. Celia stepped aside, keeping her eyes on the floor as they passed and shut the door behind them.

Marcus cleared his throat, drawing her eyes back up. “What is it you need?” His voice was gruff but not cruel.

“The dishwasher broke again,” she rushed to explain. “I’m going to have Philip look at it, but honestly, it’s the third time this year. We really need a new one.”

Marcus sighed, drumming his fingers. “I’m not sure it’s in the budget. Do you know how expensive those are?”

“Yes,” she said, “but I either need a working dishwasher, extra staff to handwash everything, or money for disposables.”

He frowned. “Let me think on it. I’ll look over the budget again and see what we can do. In the meantime, see if Philip can keep it running for a few more months.”

She let out a quiet breath. “Thank you.”

He nodded in a way that dismissed her, and Celia fled, glad to be out of that office. She was so relieved that she didn’t even notice someone else in the stairwell, until a hand reached out and pulled her back.