Chapter 3
Modess stretched in the massive bed of the guest cabin he’d been assigned. Much like at Blood Lust, Michael, being Alpha of Shadow Wolf, resided in the largest house on the pack lands. Because Modess was dominant, the two Alphas had to sleep as far from each other as possible. Modess had to admit the Shadow Wolf guest cabin was much nicer than the one they had back at Blood Lust. The cabin was large and housed a small kitchenette and two bedrooms each with their own bathroom. Wolf shifters were notorious for not sharing well. A living room with expensive furnishings had him wondering if he needed to consider remodeling his pack’s accommodations.
Climbing from the comfy bed, he made quick work of showering and readying for the day. Shoving his feet into his boots, he tensed at the soft knock on the door. Brows furrowing, he walked to the door and jerked it open to find a petite woman holding a tray.
“B-breakfast.” Nervously, she held the tray out.
Grabbing the tray with one hand, Modess turned his back on the woman without a second glance. He was about to close the door when she cleared her throat and drew his attention. Without turning, he glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
“My Alpha thought you might enjoy a morning…romp?”
His frown deepened. Clearly, the woman was afraid of him. She couldn’t even make eye contact. The fact that she’d been sent to him for that and was willing to offer herself up so freely to someone she was afraid of were both equally irksome. Besides, she was tiny. Too tiny. He’d break her in a second. He preferred women with a little more meat on their bones.
“No.” He slammed the door in her still down-turned face and carried his tray to the two person dining table.
Whatever was under the silver dome on the tray smelled absolutely fabulous and had his gut clenching in hunger. Sitting, he pulled the lid off expecting typical bacon and eggs. What he got was a mound of biscuits smothered in what smelled like sausage gravy. A second plate held still steaming fried potatoes, a heap of fluffy scrambled eggs, a small pile of fresh strawberries, and six sizzling sausage links. Mouth watering, he took up his fork and dug in, once again realizing that something else at Shadow Wolf was better than they had Blood Lust. Back at his compound, meals were pretty cut and dry. The pack ate just like Shadow Wolf with everyone meeting in the dining hall for the three daily meals. His sister, Wanda, ran the kitchen and while he knew she was an excellent cook, the meals she’d been serving for the past few years had been less than stellar. In fact, there was a set schedule. Breakfast was almost always bacon and eggs, and when it wasn’t, it was sausage and eggs. Lunch was always sandwiches and chips, and dinner was on a rotating schedule with the best night being Thursday, which was steak and baked potato night. None of the meals were spectacular, and he hadn’t realized until now that they’d been eating for necessity back at Blood Lust rather than for enjoyment.
He devoured all the food on his plates and finished it off with the tall glass of orange juice that sat on his tray. He pulled the glass back after a few swallows to stare at it. Hell, even the OJ tasted better here. It was frothy with a hint of vanilla and it looked creamy like it was mixed with milk.
Stuffed and content, Modess left his tray where it was and stalked to the door, pulling it open and already considering hanging around until the noon hour so they might catch lunch at Shadow Wolf.
Stepping out onto the porch, he eyed the set up of Michael’s compound. It was similar to his. He could see the multiple cabins dotting the area and in the distance he saw the community center and main house.
“You get biscuits and gravy for breakfast?”
The question had his eyes sliding to where Bull stepped out onto the porch of his cabin next door.
“Yeah.”
“Is it my imagination,” Bull continued, “or is the food here out-fucking-standing?”
Modess snorted, but dipped his head in a nod. “Is that all you had for breakfast?”
Bull stretched his arms over his head before lowering them and rolling his head from side to side. “Yeah.”
“No side of Simone, eh?”
Chuckling, Bull shook his head, but Modess could scent his disappointment. “Nah. Didn’t see her again after dinner.”
Modess watched his Beta’s eyes rove the grounds as if he were searching for her. “If you want, I can…”
“No!” Bull bit out, cutting off Modess’ suggestion.
Shrugging, Modess clomped down the stairs, his large frame causing each stair to bow under his weight. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”
“I appreciate it.” Bull met him and they walked together toward the main house. “Just don’t want to find a mate that way. I figure if it’s meant to be…” He let his words die off.
A grunt was the only response from Modess, but it was odd that instead of Bull’s mind going straight to a night of pleasure, it went to a potential mate. Interesting.
***
A few hours later, Modess and Bull had been given the grand tour of Michael’s territory. Modess was itching to get on the road, annoyed by Michael and his incessant badgering. When Michael had declared they’d be having the chef’s specialty for lunch, he decided to wait it out. Few things excited him as much as the prospect of a good fight, a good fuck, or a good meal. Unfortunately, that meant he was subjected to watching a training session alongside his pack and Michael. Michael’s wolves were pathetic. Nothing they did was right, and the setup in their fighting arena was all wrong. The Shadow Wolf pack needed help, and he doubted even his most experienced fighters could bring them up to form.
After the training session and the relentless requests of Michael, Modess was irritated and tired, but a bell rung out loud and clear. Michael beamed and clapped him on the back. “Lunch is ready.”
It was mid-day when Modess and his pack were led back into the mess hall. Claiming their same seats up on the dais, Modess’ belly growled at the scents filling the room as trays were brought in. Bull, sitting at his right, was distracted by the beautiful Simone who was down on the floor serving the members of her pack. Two women appeared on the dais and Modess didn’t even bother looking at them as his plate was served.
The crispiest fried chicken he’d ever seen sat beside a mountain of smooth mashed potatoes and a heap of creamy looking corn. Again, without waiting, he took up his fork and dug into the potatoes. He was halfway through when one of the women approached and then stalled. Frowning up at her, she looked uncertain as she asked, “G-gravy?”
Well fuck! If he’d known there was gravy, he would have waited. He nodded and pointed to a spot near his plate. The woman left the entire gravy boat and hurried away. Dunking his finger into the gravy, he pulled it out and shoved it into his mouth. Damn! The Shadow Wolf chef was world-fucking-class. Lifting the boat, he dumped gravy onto his remaining potatoes and corn then looked down to see gravy left with no place to put it. Like a barbarian, he lifted it to his mouth and drank down the rest of the gravy before setting the dish down. He swiped at his lips with the back of his arm then ripped into a piece of chicken with his teeth. Mouth full of succulent meat, he lifted his eyes and found the entire mess hall staring at him in shock. Undeterred, he narrowed his eyes and continued chewing. His harsh look was enough because everyone lowered their heads and concentrated on their own food before low murmurs filled the room.
“This shit is fantastic!” Bull spoke around a bite, eyeing the piece of chicken in his hand. “I don’t usually like weeds on my food, but this is good.”
Eyeing his own chicken, Modess flared his nostrils trying unsuccessfully to place the green herbs he could see.
Bull took a second bite and mumbled, “Thanks for saving me some gravy, by the way.”
Glancing over, Modess watched his pack devour their food, not even breaking to converse with each other, which was odd.
“There’s more where that came from,” Michael pointed out as he motioned toward the woman serving them to bring more food. “Soooo,” Michael leaned toward Modess. “Several of your men enjoyed my pack females last night. Surely, there must be something I can barter to convince you to help me out.”
Without even breaking stride in his eating, Modess shook his head.
“Nothing?” Michael barked sounding offended. “Really?”
About to shake his head again, Modess stilled when the woman brought him a second plate of food. Looking down at it, an idea struck and had him asking, “How many men we talking and for how long?”
A grin took Michael’s face.