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Chocolate Cake And Tablecloths
Author: HF WessonBEN'S POV
"Stubborn, ridiculously stubborn, bordering impossible."
Jace laughed quietly, "you did force her into a pack she doesn't want to be a part of."
I growled, "Shut up Jace."
I continued to pace in front of him while he played with a coin mindlessly between his fingers.
"She needs to be protected, this keeps her alive."
Jace nodded easily and switched the coin to his other hand, "fine, just don't expect her to cooperate with you."
I growled and he laughed again,
"what the fuck is so funny?"
Jace caught the coin with a metallic snap and looked up at me, his mouth curving into a grin,
"I'm imagining her clawing you're cheek."
My fists tightened, "And why is that funny?"
His smile widened, "because, if anyone forced you into something you didn't want, I think you'd do the exact same thing. You're similar and you can't see it."
My snarl ripped through the air, but I was rudely interrupted by my ring tone.
"Meg," I said into the phone, walking away from Jace's grinning face.
My head began to throb. The wedding. Carrie had consumed my mind for the past three days, I hadn't thought once about the wedding.
Guilt flooded me as Meg prattled on about cake. I thought about my family, they had pushed for our engagement. They loved Meg, demanding, decisive Meg. Why my wolf howled to be next to Carrie every second moment was beyond me. The stubborn warrior that was Carrie Stewart was in every way opposite to her sister.
"Ben? Can you hear me?"
I snapped awake and tried desperately to remember what she had just said.
"Sorry, what?" I heard her sigh on the other end.
"I was telling you I've chosen vanilla, Prudy says it's *in* cake this year. I ran a hand through my hair wearily,
"Weren't we doing half chocolate half vanilla, and what's a Prudy?"
Megan huffed, "Yes dear, but chocolate isn't in vanilla is. And Prudence is my cake consultant."
I decided not to point out the fact that I had no idea what a cake consultant was.
"Vanilla it is, I'll see you tonight."
"Thanks, honey."
She hung up, I slid my phone into my pocket. Mourning the loss of my side of the cake.
It was already six o clock when I pushed open the door to the Stewart household. Megan greeted me with a shrieky hello and a quick peck before leading me into the dining room.
My eyes searched the room for Carrie and I tried not to show disappointment when I came up short. Meg had disappeared into the lounge with her cousin, who I thought was called Beverly. And I fell dutifully into conversation with her uncle and father.
I've always hated family dinners, but by 7 o clock, I thought I was pulling off my 'I am comfortable' act.
Then she walked in. Her hair hung in a simple chocolate mass about her head. Her simple forest green shirt, sneakers, and skinny jeans were made smarter by gold leaf earrings. She was stunning, in a way that was effortless. But none of that mattered because the look on her face was lethal A perfect mask of charm that would break at the corners when her smirk showed through. Carrie.
Her green eyes grazed over me, then she looked away quickly. My wolf growled in my head. And I watched as she swirled around the kitchen, a clear favourite of everyone. Which was strange, often she was flat out insulting them, but in a way that had such quick wit, they didn't seem to mind or notice. Her tone of voice and smile dazzled them into laughing it away.
"Carrie, We're picking table cloth shades, come help us," called Meg from the lounge.
Carrie turned toward the door, her green cat-like eyes rolling slightly. "I'll only get in the way Megs. You go ahead."
I could hear Megan's high pitched huffy sigh and watched the scene play out intently. "Carrie, come here."
Carrie's mask broke a little as her sarcastic smirk pulled at her lips. "I love you, Meg, I really do, but I couldn't possibly care less about table cloths."
Megan huffed again, "You're the absolute worst!"
She shrieked. I watched as Carrie threw her head back and laughed, creating a warm chocolatey waterfall of hair down her back.
"If only I were more like you Megan." She called, the heavy sarcasm made light by her voice.
I smiled, no one could force Carrie into anything. Not without the help of one of the most powerful witches in the world, and even then, she has to be unconscious.
The evening droned on from there, until finally, through lots of bustling around, dinner was served. Megan sat next to her cousin who was still chatting wildly about the advantages and disadvantages of coral pink. I flew to Carrie's side as soon as she took a seat and she growled under her breath.
"What are you doing?"
I raised an eyebrow, shifting slightly as I sat. "Sitting?" I offered.
Her growl after that was almost too loud, and she glanced at the others quickly, then turned back to me. "Could you do it somewhere else?"
I picked up my knife and fork innocently, "Why?" I asked, looking at the food spread out before us as if I didn't notice her struggle.
"Because you're the last person I want to be around."
My wolf snarled in my head and my own fists clenched. "Well I'm you're sisters' finance, might as well get used to me." It was a low blow, I was tormenting her. It wasn't my intention, but she drove me crazy.
She let out a soft hurt whimper and I glanced at her in surprise. Her wolf had come through. Her face went blood red and her green eyes flashed, going from glinting wolfish lights to embarrassed human orbes in a split second.
"Carrie, I, "
She shook her head, cutting me off. "My wolf is just confused Ben, I don't know why. Don't read into it."
My teeth clenched, she was still denying the connection. Convincing herself we aren't what we are.
"Confused about what Carrie?" I demanded, using my voice to let her know I wanted an answer as her alpha.
She snarled and looked away. "Carrie," I growled, letting my authority show teeth.
I wanted her confession.
"Screw. You." She replied, her voice shaking.
The thing about being in a pack is there is a leader, someone in charge, an alpha. Wolves listen to the alpha. That's the way it worked. Defying me would take a lot out of her.
I leaned in, "The pain you're feeling, it's your wolf trying to obey mine. You're fighting against her in the most direct way possible."
Her jaw clenched, and her body began trembling slightly. "The pain will stop when you give in Carrie. So, let's try again, tell me what you're wolf is confused about."
I watched as her hands shook, while she sucked her lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard, keeping the pain in.
"Now Carrie, I mean it."
Her face contorted with hurt, the mask she had created for the evening beginning to crack. I knew the pain she was in, she had to break eventually. Her fingers gripped at the table edge, shaking.
"Come on Carrie." I urged The table beneath her grip began to shake. Her uncle glanced at her and she turned to me, realizing the fuss she might make.
"You," she breathed, "she's confused about you."
I watched her gravely, still not finished.
"Why?" I ordered.
She shook her head, biting back pain.
"Carrie?" Called her uncle from the table head, "are you okay?"
"Because I'm you're mate" Carrie whispered to me desperately.
Abruptly her pain stopped and she quickly reassured the table that she was fine, a smile plastered to her face. Then she sat back in her chair, breathing out relief.
"I hate you." She whispered shakily.
"No, you don't," I whispered.
She shook her head, still a little weak after the pain.
"You can't even let me enjoy a family dinner."
I growled lowly, "You can fool your family Carrie, But I see right through you. You hate these things. You hate the tired jokes, the covered-up politics. You're easily the sharpest person among them and it tires you out."
She rolled her eyes, but I had won this round, and she knew it.
"That gorgeous mask won't work on me, love."
She gritted her teeth but said nothing. Then I relaxed into my chair and let her eat. Her admission had been tough, she would hate me for it, but she couldn't pretend it was going away anymore. Worth it.
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