The Stargazer's Alpha

Ch. 3: Do You Even Shift?

The cabin was small, and roughly built. Maybe Blake wasn't rich after all? This thought cheered me up, even though the gulf between us would still be wide. I was an outcast, and Blake hinted I didn't know my roots. That I didn't understand a thing about me.

Maybe he wasn't wrong, because if I did, my life wouldn't be such a mess, and I wouldn't be so lonely.

"Is the cabin yours?" I asked, pushing the depressing thoughts away.

Blake's grin became self-conscious, something I could relate to.

"Yes, I built it all by myself," he said.

"It looks that way." Hopefully, I said nothing wrong. I meant it as a compliment, so with his confidence, he took it as a compliment. Right? Because, if the repulsion I saw on too many faces over my lifetime showed up in his, I'd rather die.

"Thank you." He scratched the dark stubble on his jaw, while I exhaled in relief. Another smile, this one toothier, lifted one corner of his lips. "It's my retreat."

"From what?"

"The pack's squabbles, business meetings, pushy she-wolves. You name it..."

For me, she-wolves wouldn't have sprung to mind as a common nuisance, but he waved his list away before I said I didn't understand.

"Right. The explanations. I owe you the talk."

"Yes," I said timidly. "Please."

"There's so much ground to cover, I don't even know where to start." Blake scratched his cheek. "How about you go in and make yourself comfortable, okay? If you can find us something to eat, it would be great too. I'll get some firewood and we will discuss everything over dinner. "

"Dinner?"

"Yes. You're hungry, right? I'm starving."

The way he smiled when he said that last bit made me dip my head, hiding a blush.

"I...I can eat." In reality, since my budget didn't allow for exotic luxuries like breakfasts or lunches, my stomach was on the verge of growling.

"Good," he said, like everything would be easy from there.

I didn't quite agree. The problem was that Blake wanted me to cook dinner for two.

I'd never made anything for two or even simply shared a meal with anyone, because nobody ever asked. Even at the obligatory gatherings people looked sideways at me and hurried to find someone else—anyone else—to talk to and seat with.

In a vicious circle, the more paranoid I became about hiding my weirdness from others, the more awkward I acted, and the weirder I appeared to them, and they avoided me all the more.

Blake wasn't running to find someone else to have dinner with, quite the opposite.

He brought me to his special place, where I was the only person to talk to, and he seemed happy about it. I couldn't imagine anyone else to be this unfazed by me ever again. It was going well, but if I blew it with Blake, I wouldn't get another chance to break my curse of loneliness.

And...my golden opportunity hung upon my ability to throw together a dinner for a guy who came from a world-famous property with a four-star restaurant. Who also stirred my emotions far beyond the limits of possible after such a brief time together.

On top of it, Blake spoke in riddles and dropped tantalizing clues about my identity all the time. If he just told me...but alas. He wanted me to cook first.

How was I supposed to cook? And what?

Biting my lips, I stepped inside Blake's cabin. I dry-washed my hands. If he had Ramen...?