Sapphire Bones

Ryan

Updated: April 19, 2019

Corvo

Mornings were made for two things: coffee and silence. So far Erin accomplished the first task but her incessant mumblings about pack business and ungrateful teenagers only made the blaring migraine at the front of my head throb harder. All I could do to ease the hammering was to stick my nose into the thick porcelain mug in my hands and sniff hard at the sandy colored coffee inside. But even that barely had any effect on the continuous thumping underneath my skull.

"They really need to start appreciating what I do around here," Erin growled but didn't turn away from the stove. She stirred something in a pot; whatever inside offered enough resistance to cause her to use both hands. "I take care of this entire house for them," she whirled around, spatula in hand. "I'm lucky you and your siblings grew up with manners."

I lifted my gaze from the cup to see her. Erin's tanned skin glowed under the fluorescent lights above but her eyes were dull from the years of work our pack put her through. She was loved but the number of wolves in Emerald never decreased. More mouths to feed and more mess to clean up. Her effort didn't go unnoticed, however. A raise every year and as much vacation as she needed; I dared not keep her from her family several packs over. If I did I'd have a multitude of problems atop the growing pile on my shoulders.

"They'll understand one day," Ethel answered for me. A chirp in her voice forced my head out of my mug completely. I followed her with my eyes as she made her way through the kitchen. The cupboard with a myriad of mugs, then to the coffee pot, then the fridge, and finally to a stool a couple down from myself. Ethel hopped up onto the chair, flattened her thick red skirt and sipped at her coffee. It wasn't long before she noticed me staring. Erin grunted and went back to work on whatever was in the pot leaving Ethel and I to glare at each other from opposite sides of the bar. Her face had minimal makeup today: a bit of flicked eyeliner and mascara but nothing else. She normally had an entire scene going on but today she kept it minor. Her black collared shirt, the white flat collar poking out from underneath the blouse, was the most exciting thing about her.

"What?" She sniggered. I hesitated a moment. Something was off. Ethel cocked a thick brow and turned to face me completely. The chair beneath her squeaked at the sudden movement.

"Why are you acting weird?" I asked and took a large drink from my mug. Ethel straightened back up and shrugged.

"You're the one staring," she said with a yawn. "I'm trying to enjoy my morning but you're over there acting like the world's falling apart."

"You're hiding something," I ignored her comment. "What're you hiding?"

Before Ethel could answer Damien strode in from the backyard, Allison on his heels. Her face never healed; two long scars along the sides of her face from her last encounter with L. If I hadn't called upon Allison to make amends with an old enemy she wouldn't be permanently scarred. I'm to blame for what happened to her, and each day I faced her I wouldn't be able to forget what I did. Her dark jade eyes twinkled with hatred whenever she glanced my way. To her, I was the physical reminder of L, and what happened to her face months ago.

"Alli," I nodded toward her. Damien and I shared a knowing glance before he headed the same way Ethel did when she first came into the kitchen. The Edwards family were always creatures of habit; once addicted to coffee, always addicted. The whirring smell of hazelnut coffee wafted through the kitchen in thick swirls of steam rising from the carafe sitting underneath the maker.

"Hey," Alli called back but didn't meet my gaze. "Any news from-," she couldn't finish but I knew where her words were going.

"No," I said. "Neither Cole or Roddy has answered any of my links but I'm not losing hope."