They Forgot My Rank, So the Lycan King Claimed Me novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Mango

Jasper brings the mango she is allergic to, the car has no seat for her, and her lockbox is empty; Poppy dangles a gold bracelet that cost exactly what is missing.

Dinner tasted like paper.

The second I swallowed the last bite, Jasper showed up at the back door with two iced drinks.

Mango chillers, both of them.

One for Poppy, one for me.

Poppy took a long sip and gave him a thumbs-up.

"You get me. Nothing beats something freezing in the middle of August!"

I wrapped both hands around my plastic cup.

The cold went through my palms and settled in my chest.

Before Jasper ever noticed Poppy, he told me he had an older brother too.

He said his brother was so bright, so perfect an heir, that the whole pack went blind to anyone standing next to him.

I thought we were the same, he and I.

Then he met my sister, and he said it out loud.

"Your sister is just easier to love than you."

And I still liked him anyway.

He was the one person who looked at Poppy and still remembered my name.

Whenever he bought something for her, he bought the same thing for me.

Until somewhere along the way, both gifts turned into things only Poppy would want.

"Nessa. Why are you zoning out?" he said. "Drink it. I got that one for you."

His eyes were on Poppy's smile, not on me.

I turned to him.

"Jasper. I'm allergic to mango. And my stomach can't take anything iced."

The kitchen went quiet.

His brow pinched while he dug through his memory.

Then his voice went flat and irritated.

"Really? I'm pretty sure I've seen you eat mango."

"And come on, it's August. What café doesn't use ice?"

"Quit being so needy, okay?"

The one time he was thinking of was the first time I ever tried mango.

I had broken out in hives all over my arms.

He had cried and apologized and sworn he would never forget my allergy again.

It turned out "never" had a shelf life of three years.

Jared snorted from across the room.

"Nessa, are you really going to throw a fit the second everyone's happy?"

I looked down.

I felt cold and very tired of them.

Thank the Moon Goddess I had not picked a pack in the capital.

Two more years of this would kill me.

The next morning, Mom and Dad were driving to the Skyline Hotel to book the banquet for Poppy's celebration.

I stood at the curb in the August sun and watched the heat rise off the asphalt.

Dad leaned out of the driver's window. "Are you getting in?"

"Where? There's no room."

His forehead knotted. "You're old enough. Squeeze in."

Mom was already in the car.

"Your sister gets carsick, so she needs the front seat," she said. "Grow up a little."

Poppy sat in the front seat, flipping down the sun visor.

Mom and Jared each had a window in the back.

Jasper was jammed in the middle, hugging Poppy's new laptop bag.

There was not one inch left for me.

"There's no room," I said again.

"Then call a cab," Dad said. "It isn't far."

I nodded and stepped back. "You go ahead. I'll just..."

Dad stamped on the gas before I finished.

The car tore off.

Exhaust blew across my face and burned up my nose.

I walked home slowly, the same way I came.

In the kitchen I dropped noodles into a pot for myself and loaded them with chili.

Too much chili.

My eyes watered and my tongue burned.

I ate every bite.

Then I washed the bowl and wiped the counter.

My phone buzzed against my leg.

It was a voice message from Mom, over loud laughter.

Everyone in the background was gushing about Poppy.

"Nessa, why aren't you here yet?" Mom said. "Take a cab. Right now. Don't keep us waiting!"

My thumb hovered between the block button and the reply.

I wrote back: "Not coming."

Then I went into my room and started to pack.

Only summer clothes.

I would buy heavier ones when I got south.

Everything else stayed, even the gray e-reader box where Jared had left it.

The ceremony card went into my jacket pocket.

Then I knelt and pulled my little lockbox out from under the bed.

A few loose coins and a crumpled five-dollar bill sat at the bottom.

That was all.

The thick stack of hundreds I had saved from two years at the pack library was gone.

I tore the room apart.

Under the mattress. Inside the drawers. Behind every book.

Nothing.

My hands shook so badly the phone almost slid out of my fingers.

I was dialing the pack enforcers when a car door slammed outside.

Fast footsteps hit the stairs, and my door swung open.

Poppy stood there, swinging a gold bracelet in front of my face.

"Isn't it pretty? Mom just bought it for me," she sang. "It was thirty-eight hundred dollars."

Thirty-eight hundred.

The exact number I had counted every Friday night for two years.

My head snapped toward the hall.

Mom stood in the doorway behind her.

"You went through my money?" I said.

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