Trinity found herself falling into a new, surprisingly pleasant routine within the Beta's sprawling home. She had been strictly confined here for the past three days, her heat cycle demanding isolation from the pack to prevent further incidents. The memory of the disaster three nights prior, when Alpha Adrian's son had nearly attacked her due to her alluring scent, still lingered, a stark reminder of why this seclusion was necessary. It was a cruel irony that her own biology was her jailer, leading to a confinement that felt strangely both suffocating and, in its newfound rhythm, comforting. She had even grown accustomed to Alana, though her mother seemed more hostile than usual. Trinity had to actively pretend she didn't notice the growing tension between the mated couple; whatever hushed conversations had been held in their private wing of the house clearly hadn't gone well. But as long as she was sequestered, she did her best to ignore the simmering discord.
Her bedroom, a testament to old-money luxury, felt less like a gilded cage and more like a personal sanctuary. Sunlight, already bright and warm at this hour, streamed through the towering, floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the pane, a grand, lush green forest stretched to the horizon, a vibrant tapestry of ancient trees and delicate light. Trinity often found herself drawn to the wide, plush sitting bench nestled into the window alcove, watching the leaves dance in the breeze, a stark contrast to the human world she'd been ripped from. The attached ensuite bathroom a marble-clad indulgence of people with way too much money.
Rolling out of her king-sized bed, Trinity stretched her tired limbs, following the same path she had for the two days prior. It had been strange, but she could tell Boris was going out of his way to make sure the house didn't feel quiet and isolating, filling it with subtle sounds of life, the low hum of conversation from the staff, the distant clatter from the kitchen.
Neither of her friends could be at the house. Jess had been brought back to her family home, a thought that still sent a jolt of worry through Trinity. The last time she'd seen Jess's father, Hank Dean, she'd stabbed him. Looking back, she still couldn't believe her own impulsive behavior. She hoped it wasn't causing Jess too much trouble at home. Ryan, too, remained absent, his "lack of control," as he'd put it, keeping him away. She wasn't even sure if her scent had lessened enough over these three days. How strong could her smell really be, anyway?
Now that the three of them were separated, Trinity keenly felt the absence of her cell phone. It would have been so much easier if she could just call her friends. But in a world where everyone could speak telepathically, a cell phone was deemed pointless. For those without such abilities, it felt like being flung back to the old days, when you had to ride your bike to a friend's house just to ask if they could come over.
Pulling her wavy black hair into a high, casual bun, Trinity quickly brushed her teeth in her opulent bathroom and slipped on a pair of soft slippers. Boris, likely after some form of quiet strong-arming with Alana, had ensured her closet was filled to the brim with everything she could possibly need. It made her wonder where it all came from; she knew there was a small downtown strip in the village, but no one was making high-fashion clothing and shoes there. They must venture into the human world for supplies, it only made sense.
Looking at herself in the ornate mirror, Trinity thought her face looked different somehow. Even her eyes, normally a very bright, crystal blue like Boris's, had something subtly changed about them. Something was off, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
Deciding to push it aside – just another weird, fucked-up, and unexplainable phenomenon since she'd arrived here – she made her way down the grand, sweeping staircase. She'd grown used to the quiet presence of the household staff, already cleaning the already spotless place. She offered polite smiles where she felt they were welcome; no one was overtly rude, but the vibes were definitely unfriendly. Most of the staff were women, which made her wonder if it was a new thing because of her situation, or if they only ever employed women – the latter being very strange.
Entering the sprawling, gourmet kitchen, she saw Gino, the private chef, already working away, preparing another grand meal for breakfast. Even though it would mostly just be her and Boris, as Alana was quick to leave most mornings.
"Good morning," she spoke softly to Gino.
His only response was a crisp nod. He always seemed to do his work with silent efficiency, then disappear. Opening the gleaming cupboards she had become accustomed to, she pulled down her preferred mug, filling it with coffee and cream. Breathing in the heavenly scent, she leaned against the cool, polished countertop, savoring the first taste of what she considered breakfast.
Both Alana and Boris entered shortly after her, holding hands as if they could never not touch. It was odd, the way they always seemed to be in contact, some form of physical connection always present between them. As much as Trinity knew there was a growing tension, it wasn't enough to keep their hands apart.
Boris, a commanding figure with kind, crystal blue eyes that mirrored his daughter's, grinned. "Morning, kiddo." He walked over to Trinity, dressed casually in an expensive, open-collared linen shirt and dark trousers, a stark contrast to his wife. He could tell they were on far better ground than they'd been. Even Alpha Adrian's unwelcome presence had, ironically, forged a closer connection between him and his pup. He felt now as if he could be in her proximity, act freely, and not need to worry about how she would take it, or if she would hate him for it. She didn't respond to his gestures of affection, but she wasn't quick to slap them away either, and for that, he was thankful. Taking advantage of her lower defenses, Boris gave her a quick hug before letting her go, trying to avoid any protest. Her side glance was the only visible sign of her reluctance.
Alana, standing at six feet four with sleek black hair and sharp brown eyes, took a deep, almost pained breath as she watched the two. She wore a tailored, high-fashion dress in a rich jewel tone, its sharp lines emphasizing her tall frame, paired with impossibly high stiletto heels. Early and earlier she was leaving in the morning to avoid this little scene. She couldn't understand how Boris just leaped so unabashedly into danger. What if Alpha Adrian lost his patience for Boris's perceived loyalty to Trinity? What if he took away his status as Beta? No longer believed in his ability? They would end up being nothing. Just ordinary pack members with no power, no prestige, no standing in their society. Boris didn't care; he had never experienced true demotion. But Alana knew what it was like to be at the very lowest spectrum of the pack. She would end up like the maids in her own home, cleaning her floors and pressing her laundry. She didn't want their fate. She had a life that she desired, and she wasn't willing to give it up for a pup that couldn't even shift.
Boris walked to the counter and picked up a pre-prepared to-go cup, filling it with Alana's preferred wheatgrass smoothie. He sometimes didn't understand why she ate such things. As wolves, they had a natural healing cycle; you could eat burgers, smoke cigarettes, and drink every day, and still be fit, tall, and live to be three to four hundred years old. Their bodies naturally replenished their dying and defective cells for a substantial period of time. There really wasn't much need for this extra healthy life, other than rigorous training. Nothing else seemed to keep you alive that long.
"Your breakfast is ready, Beta," Gino said, bowing slightly, ignoring the palpable tension between mother and daughter. Recently, there had been more and more occurrences at the Beta's home that he had to consciously not notice. The last thing he wanted was his workplace to become too exciting.
Boris saw that Alana looked like she wanted to simply escape. He had let her the last two days, but they both knew she hadn't had to go to work so early. He had given her a chance to cool off, but the cool-off was done now.
"We will all eat together. Come on," he urged, feeling like he was herding lambs to slaughter, the way the two women looked at each other with barely concealed malice. He found his nature to be night and day from his mate and daughter. Alana was so stuck on what she could lose that she didn't just embrace what was in front of her. And Trinity was much the same. She was stuck on what she had lost, while ignoring what she currently gained. He found it interesting to watch two women who were, in his eyes, in the exact same position.
The three sat around the polished, large cherry oak table, its surface gleaming under the morning light. Boris at the head, Alana to his left, Trinity, still in her comfortable pajamas, to his right. Chef Gino and a few maids silently placed their plates in front of them, followed by various side dishes. Even though he knew his two companions didn't feel the same, Boris felt truly blessed. This was what he'd always wanted – to sit at the table with his family, to eat a meal, to just be together. For him, this was the epitome of perfection.
All that could be heard at the table was the polite scraping of cutlery and the quiet sips of beverages. Alana's assessing eyes took in Trinity, who sat sloppily in her chair, hair pulled up into a messy bun, face bare of all makeup. She felt as if Trinity was not a proper representation of a true Carter woman. The sight of her chipped away at Alana's appetite second by second.
"Boris, I really do have to go," Alana told her mate gently, resting her hand over his. Leaning in, he gave her a soft kiss, a nod of approval.
Grabbing her thermos, Alana looked at Trinity, wondering what she would even say to someone like her. What "good day" could she have? She was just lounging around the house.
Trinity had noticed all of Alana's rude looks and judging stares. She didn't feel the need to play nice with her, not like she did with Boris. "Off to tend to the broken?" Trinity asked, her voice laced with feigned deference, a subtle mockery of Alana's prideful profession.
Looking at her from head to toe, Alana could only scoff, a short, sharp sound. "Don't strain yourself too much, might catch an outbreak of efficiency." She snapped, snatching her purse from a passing maid, quick to leave the house, knowing she would soon have a not-so-pleased Boris in her head, scolding her telepathically.
"Have a good day is also an appropriate send-off," Boris was quick to mention, giving Trinity a mildly disapproving look.
Stuffing the last piece of bacon into her mouth, Trinity smiled at him, knowing he wouldn't really be bothered by her exchange with Alana. They had said far worse things to each other. In her book, this was actually them being kind.
"I have a few meetings around the pack today, but I won't be gone for long," Boris told her, trying to assure her she wouldn't be left alone to be bored out of her mind.
"Don't worry, with Gino around, I don't even have the chance to burn down the kitchen," she joked, walking over to pour herself another cup of coffee. She didn't feel comfortable calling over a maid for such a simple task.
"Now that you have the tablet, you can message me if you need anything."
Trinity was thankful that Boris had had one of the warriors go out and pick her up a few creature comforts like the tablet. The only problem was Ryan and Jess didn't have any tech of their own. So now she had the means, but they didn't. She just kept telling herself, only two or three more days.
"Why do I have the feeling you would have been insufferable if I had been fifteen?" Trinity mused aloud.
Boris felt grateful that she was more open to just speaking to him in a free fashion. It made him less inclined to be bothered by her mood swings or somewhat questionable jokes at times.
"What makes you think I'm not insufferable now? I would not test me," he chuckled, while knowing that not a word of what he said was a lie. He would become insufferable the second she dipped her toes into the waters of freedom.
As Boris started to leave the dining area, he halted his steps as Trinity called over to him. "An insufferable old man once told me it was appropriate to say things like, 'Have a good day.' Have a good day, Boris."
Boris had the widest smile on his face he felt he'd ever had in his life. Walking back over to his kid, he pulled her in for a bear hug.
"Don't push it, let me go," Trinity muttered against his chest, refusing to hug him back. She still couldn't believe that they were getting along so well.