The Society | Completed

Part 15

"Conrad, slap a smile on your face. You're allowed to be sad, but you're taking the piss now," Charlotte announces, breezing into the room and flinging the curtains open.

"Get out of that bed," Charlotte demands, throwing the sheets off Conrad's cold body.

A groan emits from Conrad's body as she rolls over and tries to snuggle under the remaining covers on the bed.

"No. Up," Charlotte sing-songs, and Conrad finally opens her eyes grumpily.

"I'm mourning. Leave me in my bed, please," she pleads, batting her eyelashes innocently.

"Firstly, your bed? Bitch, move your ass! This is my bed, and I'm reclaiming it. Secondly, you're not mourning; you're just lazy now. Thirdly, and finally, I have arranged for you to run a training session, so shake your tail feather and get up," Charlotte grins, wrapping her hands around Conrad's ankle and pulling.

Conrad ends up on the wooden floor, a stream of curses leaving her mouth as she pulls herself up.

"Nope," Charlotte shouts, noticing her looking back at the bed.

Charlotte launches herself onto the mattress, spreading out to take up the entire bed.

"Put some running shoes on, and get your shit together, you can't let the kids down," Charlotte shrugs, smirking.

She's guilting us, Jane complains, and Conrad grunts aloud, traipsing over to her suitcase that sits in the corner of the room.

It's working for me; I want to go outside. The light will do you good, Conrad argues, sitting on the ground beside her case.

She takes the hairbrush from on top of it, forcing her hair to cooperate and be tamed by the hair tie.

"You're doing amazing, sweetie," Charlotte shouts, her voice muffled by the duvet over her face.

"Why did you volunteer me? I was happy to stay in bed," Conrad mumbles, staring at the contents of her suitcase blankly.

After a minute of gazing, she reluctantly pulls a pair of workout joggers and a tank top out of her bag, grabbing clean underwear and socks to go with it.

"You're Beta. This is your job," Charlotte points out, sitting up on the bed just as Conrad face-plants into the duvet.

"I'm not Beta yet," she complains, and Charlotte rolls her eyes.

"With Silas in the west, you may as well be," she sighs, getting up and pulling Conrad with her.

"I'll have your lunch ready if you get dressed and come downstairs," Charlotte compromises. Conrad reluctantly nods, trekking into the bathroom and slamming the door.

She barely recognises herself in the mirror. She's been home for over two weeks, and she hasn't left Charlotte's apartment since she arrived, not even to visit her parents.

Barbara came over daily and checked on her, but understood Conrad wanted some independence for the moment.

She had seen Marcy and Sean twice, both appearing separately with food to surprise her and try to coax her into eating.

It wasn't her fault - it was Jane who didn't want to eat.

She had numbed her wolf with some pills the doctor had sent over, crossing her fingers that they'd worked.

Surely enough, thank the Goddess, they had.

Conrad and Jane didn't really communicate, and while Conrad knew this could be extremely bad in the near future, she didn't care; she couldn't listen to Jane's tears as well as her own.