Claiming The Spare Twin novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: The Cup

The next morning Finlay walked into the pack kitchen for the first time in his life.

The cooks stopped working. A tray of rolls stayed in the air in somebody's hands.

"Morning," he said to the room, and sat down on a flour stool at my workstation like he belonged there.

"Alpha, the dining hall is through there," said the old head cook, flapping a dish towel at him.

"I'm eating here."

"Then you'll peel," she said, and handed him a potato.

He looked at it.

I laughed out loud, the first real laugh I'd had in days, and the whole kitchen laughed with me.

For about ten minutes it was the best morning of my life.

Then my mother came in.

She walked straight to the island, poured the tea from the black kettle into the chipped blue cup and set it in front of me.

"Drink."

"Mother, I'm busy."

"Today of all days you'll need your blood calm." She didn't look at Finlay. "Drink it, Linnea."

I picked up the cup the way I had ten thousand mornings.

Finlay went still.

He put down the potato and stood.

"Wait," he said.

He took the cup out of my hand and held it under his nose.

A wolf's nose is a hard thing to lie to.

His face changed slowly.

"What is in this?"

"Medicine," my mother said. "A fever herb. She has weak blood."

"It smells like moonroot."

The kitchen had gone completely silent.

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