Christmas with the Grumpy Alpha (Feuding Hearts Christmas)

17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Lena

Morning.

My eyes open slowly, lazily, letting the world come back in one bright pixel at a time. As Tanner’s room solidifies all around me, and as I become aware of my pleasantly sore legs and back, I realize what day it is.

The day I meet his parents.

I should be excited. I should be nervous. I should be feeling anything except what I’m feeling right now, dread. The idea of coming face-to-face with them is nerve-wracking, but the idea of coming face-to-face with him is terrifying.

Him.

Derek.

I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can look into his eyes again and maintain my composure, after everything he did to me. I don’t know if I can face him again, especially after what I’ve been up to with his brother.

Memories of last night come rushing back, and it’s as if a switch has been flipped.

All of my tension and worry shift to the sides, parting like the Red Sea to let the remembrance of Tanner’s warm touch stand in the middle, warming me up even now.

I recall the way we ran through that forest, and how free I felt, how uninhibited. I recall how our minds connected, how intimate it felt, how powerful.

Suddenly, Derek doesn’t seem that big of a concern anymore. I’m finding it hard to imagine why he matters or why he ever did. Now that I have been with Tanner, everyone else feels replaceable.

“Oh good, you’re up.” The bathroom door opens, and Tanner’s head pokes out. His hair is still dripping water. “Time to get ready, my dear. The parents await.”

Despite the assurance Tanner’s presence is providing to me, my stomach still becomes a little queasy at that comment.

“They’re here already?” I gulp. “Anything I should know beforehand?”

I’m expecting Tanner to laugh and brush away my worries and to tell me that I don’t need to know anything beforehand. But instead, he treats my question seriously and gives me a sober look.

“How about you go get ready first? Then we can discuss.”

Oh, wonderful.

I rise from bed, unable to hide my trepidation. “Have they already arrived, or are they about to?”

Tanner goes towards the mirror, puts on a white flannel shirt, and starts buttoning it. “They’re here,” he answers, his back to me. “Called around fifteen minutes ago. I told them I’d get ready and come down. They told me to bring you with me.”

Amazing. Seems like the spotlight will be on me today.

It’s okay. Everything will be okay.

Tanner has already chosen me as his fated mate. I have nothing to prove.

I have nothing to worry about. And I definitely have nothing to feel embarrassed about.

We are fated mates, chosen by destiny to be together. No one can argue against that, it’s the most sacred of all relationships in the werewolf communities.

Right?

Ten minutes and a hot shower later, I’m out, matching Tanner’s white shirt with a white one of my own, tucked into sky-blue jeans with brown shoes to match.

“You ready?” I ask Tanner, who’s perched on the edge of the sofa, absently scrolling on his phone. He looks up at me, takes in my appearance, and nods.

Part of me is still expecting him to revert to his usual sardonic self and make some sort of joke to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t.

Every line on his face is serious and business-like. His whole posture screams alpha. I realize that this is how he’s been for the majority of his life.

A leader carved from steel, refusing to show emotion or weakness. That tender side of him I’m beginning to see more and more is reserved only for me, not anyone else.

This stony Tanner is what the world knows, a man who will do whatever is needed for the safety of his pack.

“Let’s go,” Tanner says softly, and we leave his room together. The hallway is empty and quiet, filled with the sound of our muffled footsteps as we walk towards the stairs, not saying anything to each other.

It is only once we’ve begun descending the staircase that I speak.

“So, what should I know before meeting Mr. and Mrs. Wilde?” repeating my earlier question.

Tanner starts at the sound of my voice, broken out of some solemn reverie.

He looks down at me and blinks twice rapidly, as if he doesn’t remember how he got here, with me next to him. Then the confusion leaves his face, and his former calm self returns.

He grabs my hand, squeezes it lightly, and gives me a flutter of a smile.

“Not really,” Tanner answers. “Don’t worry. Just relax and be yourself. That will always be good enough.”

His words calm me down, at least for a moment.

But as we descend to the last floor, the anxiety returns, flaring up inside me. It beats its awful wings against my ribcage, twisting my stomach into knots and making me feel nauseous.

My hand, clammy with nerves, instinctively reaches for Tanner’s. I squeeze it tightly, grounding myself in his warmth, using the connection to anchor me to reality.

Calm, Lena. Calm. It’s okay. You’re all right.

Repeating this mantra to myself, holding the banister with one hand and Tanner’s hand with the other, I descend from the first floor to ground level, where our guests await us.

As we round the corner, my throat tightens, and a surge of energy jolts through my heart. Without even realizing it, I brace myself, my body instinctively preparing for whatever’s coming—like we’re about to face something dangerous.

Which, in a way, we might be.

They’re standing in the main lounge.

My eyes spot them instantly, and I cannot look away. There’s something to the way they’re gathered…a kind of synchrony. All are tall and strong, with delicate, beautiful features—a display of the blessed gene pool that gave Tanner his own artistic appearance.

Their mother stands in the very center, and as I lock eyes with her, I feel myself being studied, probed, scrutinized, analyzed, and judged from every point of view.

Measured against a myriad of standards to see whether I was good enough for her darling son. And all of it in a single glance.

I take in her appearance: the lush blonde curls, the stern, sea-green eyes, and the thin line of her lips showcasing her disappointment with the rest of the world’s mediocrity. And perhaps that includes me as well.

Next is Tanner’s father, a mountain of a man sporting a groomed black beard and eyes that seem to have been transplanted from a hawk.

He stands taller and wider than his own son, staring at me, his expressionless features screaming a thousand declamations at once.

His hair is slicked back and his skin is spotless, shining. As unblemished as the family name, I suppose. But maybe it won’t remain unblemished for much longer, now that I’m here, the girl who stole their other son’s heart.

And then I see him.

There’s something about a familiar face in a sea of strangers. Research says that it’s supposed to be comforting, but they haven’t been in my shoes, clearly.

Derek stands and watches me approach. My eyes fall upon his lean, knifelike frame, which I haven’t seen for a year, and the past comes crashing down upon me in waves of acrimony.

I’m suddenly reliving it all, every painful memory I have with him, every bitter moment I’ve spent in his presence, reliving all of it with the sensory vividness of reality.

As if this vacation and my romance with Tanner was just a dream and I’m still where I always was, in a relationship that has given me more anguish than happiness.

Only Tanner’s hand firmly gripping mine stops the flood of memories from washing me away completely and blowing apart my composure. I take a deep breath and remind myself of who I am, of what I’m worth. It will all be okay.

And now we’ve arrived.

“Mom, Dad, so good to see you.” Tanner goes forward and embraces both his parents. “Derek. Hello.” He curtly nods at his brother before returning his attention where it matters. “Mom, Dad, this is Lena.”

I smile. “Hello, nice to meet you both.” My eyeballs itch, trying to switch towards Derek, but I keep them locked in front.

“Hello, Lena.” Tanner’s mother smiles politely at me. The smile never strays past her lips, towards her eyes which regard me as one might regard a particularly unpredictable and interesting laboratory specimen. “You can call me Tara.”

“Tara, understood.” My cheeks are beginning to hurt from keeping this forced smile in place, but I persist nonetheless.

“And you can call me Lockwood.” Tanner’s father’s voice booms effortlessly, filling the empty lounge. He leans forward and extends his hand. “It’s nice to meet you Lena.” His voice betrays his words, suggesting that it’s not nice meeting me, as much as it is surprising.

“And you already know me, I guess.”

I turn towards Derek upon hearing him speak. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined standing this close to him, after what he did to me.

“Hello, Derek.” My voice is carefully bland, my eyes carefully blank.

Derek, on the other hand, is unwilling to put in that effort. He’s gazing at me with open sullenness, and with more than a hint of suspicion.

“Great, then. We’ve all been introduced.” Tanner rubs his hands together, trying to get things to move. “Shall we go to the breakfast lounge, where the others are?”

“In a minute,” Tara answers her son, still looking at me. “Joanne’s gone to the restroom. She’ll be back any moment.”

What? Joanne’s here too?

Before I can dwell further on that shocking revelation, the restroom door at the lobby’s corner opens, and out walks Joanne at the perfect time, as if they had all secretly rehearsed this to ambush me.

I watch her stride in our direction.

It pricks me, seeing how beautiful she is, how naturally white her hair is, white enough to give the lush snow outside competition. Her face is equally frosty and delicate, with her dark eyes peering out like coals from the gleam of her skin.

“Joanne, this is Lena,” Derek mumbles, wrapping his hand around Joanne’s waist as she comes and stands by his side.

“Hello, Lena.” Joanne gives me an open smile. I almost wince in the face of it, remembering her scathing email and knowing that it came from this seemingly harmless, doll-like creature.

“Hello,” I answer back, in a voice that does not reflect the cheeriness I try to inject into it. Tanner seems to sense my unease, for he slides his own arm around my waist and pulls me in close.

“Let’s move into the breakfast lounge,” he says to us all. “The bride and groom are waiting for us.”

We turn as one and head inside the room to our left, where food is being served, and the majority of the guests are currently gathered.

Daphne and Larry are at the very end, saying something to two of the waiters. When they see Tanner and I enter with the rest of his family in tow, they break off from their conversations and rush over to meet us.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilde, hi!” Daphne exclaims, shaking their hands and embracing Tanner’s mother.

I don’t fail to notice the change in attitude Tara undergoes when with Daphne. Her smile is wider and more genuine, and she seems more relaxed.

Once Daphne is done greeting the parents, she turns towards Derek.

The smile falters on her face. Her shining eyes dim momentarily.

Of course, she knows about Derek and everything he’s done. I’ve told her all the details, like any best friend would. And as a result, Daphne doesn’t have a very high opinion of that guy.

In fact, she thinks he’s the scum of the earth, to put it very accurately.

“Hello,” Daphne says to Derek and Joanne, in a clipped voice.

She gives them no more than a moment’s worth of attention before returning her focus to Tanner’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Wilde, please come and sit. Brunch will be served any minute, and then we have an exciting activity planned for today.”

We go forward to take our seats, and much to my relief, Tanner grabs a space for us that’s somewhat away from the others. He sits down and then turns to face me.

“Are you okay?” Tanner asks me through our bond.

I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I reply so only he can hear me.

Tanner nods slightly. “Okay. Good. So, What did you think of my parents and how meeting them went?”

I smile weakly. “I mean, it could’ve gone a lot worse, so there’s that.”

Tanner reads the actual message hidden beneath my words. He gazes at me intently, the twin blue flames of his pupils melting all my barriers and revealing my innermost thoughts and feelings to him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to them.” He squeezes my thigh reassuringly.

“And they’ll get used to you, more importantly. It’s just that they’re a bit awkward around you right now, since you’re new, and because of your past with Derek,” He smiles. “Don’t worry, everything will settle down to normal soon. You just need to give it time.”

I return Tanner’s smile with one of my own, trying to act hopeful for his sake.

Part of me is still doubtful that things will work out, considering the look of veiled distaste that Tara gave me when she saw me for the first time.

But I can’t let my pessimism show right now. I have to try, for Tanner, if not anyone else.

We eat our breakfast in a companionable silence. I try not to look in the others’ direction, although time and again I feel the heat of Derek’s gaze boring into me, watching me and Tanner sitting together and sharing a meal.

What does he want? He broke up with me, and he found a new mate, just like he had always dreamed of. Then why is he giving me all this attention, this unwarranted animosity?

After finishing the strangest breakfast of my life, I lean back in my seat and spot Daphne rising to her feet.

“Everyone!” she announces, lightly tapping her fork against her glass to call attention to herself. “Now that we’re done eating, it’s time to have some fun!”

The people seated around her stir and murmur curiously. Daphne lets the suspense build for a moment, then smiles. “Today, we’ll be doing something slightly different. The men and the women will be splitting up because we’ve arranged different activities for them both!”

Wait, what?

My mouth parts in surprise. I feel my heart plummeting.

Oh, Daphne, what have you done?

My best friend doesn’t realize what consequences her plans for today entail, of course.

How could she?

I haven’t told her anything about what I’m struggling with here.

She doesn’t know that by making the men and women split up, she’s removed my only source of comfort from me. And she’s put me right in close proximity with the one person I least want to be around right now.

Joanne.

Ugh.

“Come on, people!” Daphne urges everyone half-playfully. “Get to your feet! Show some enthusiasm!”

The guests begin to move, slowly sliding back their chairs and rising up. I give Tanner a farewell glance.

“See you later, I suppose.”

Tanner leans forward and brushes his lips against mine gently. “Catch you later,” he whispers in my ear, his breath tickling my skin. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

And then he’s gone, giving my hand a final squeeze before mixing in with the flowing tide of men, which is slowly gathering on one corner.

And opposite them, on the other side of the breakfast lounge, half of the women have already assembled. My nemesis is among them.

And she is staring at me.

It’s going to be a long day.

I walk over to the crowd, trying not to let my tenseness show. I constantly remind myself that this is only temporary and that I have an exciting night to look forward to with Tanner once the day is over.

“Lena,” Tara states, as I come to stand over beside her and Joanne. “How was breakfast?”

“It was good,” I answer her, “but I didn’t eat much. Didn’t feel like it.”

Tara nods slowly, as if pondering my answer. I can’t help but notice how regal her posture is, how straight.

She reminds me of those queens you see in movies and TV shows, truly walking like a kingdom lies beneath their feet.

Maybe Tanner is secretly royalty and hasn’t told me. It’s certainly possible, shady and mysterious as that man is.

Tara glances at me quizzically, her eyebrows scrunched together. From beside her, Joanne flashes me a smile with a glower hidden within it.

I think amusedly to myself, " What an interesting afternoon this is going to be!" I suddenly don't feel so anxious anymore.

The idea of being with Tanner again once all of this is over comforts me and excites me. I’m looking forward to tonight, when I get to spend time with someone I truly care about.

“Okay, everyone,” Daphne suddenly sashays in front of the crowd, face shining. “I have a question. How many people here like cookies?”

A bunch of hands pop up into the air.

“Great, because that’s what we’ll be doing today,” she says with a playful grin, her eyes twinkling with silent laughter. “Not eating them—at least, not yet—since we’re all still stuffed from breakfast. Instead, we’ll be decorating cookies this afternoon! So get your inner artists ready, because it’s a competition, and there’s a prize for the winner!”

There’s clapping and a few uncalled-for hoots from the bolder members of the crowd, someone might have had few too many mimosas at breakfast.

I am starting to think they were smarter than me and that a little liquid courage might have been a good idea.

Daphne asks us to follow her, and together we leave the breakfast lounge and go further inside the hotel, into one of its large rec centers.

Inside it, tables have been set up, the kind of rustic, wooden tables that remind me of the classrooms I sat in as a child. On each table, a tray rests, filled with cookies of varying colors, from oatmeal brown to charcoal black.

Other decorative items rest next to the cookies: tubes of colored icing, frosting, glaze, Nutella, and a whole bunch of other edible tools, which we’ll be using.

Honestly, it looks and feels like I am walking onto the set of the Great Christmas Cookie Bake Off. I silently hope that I get voted off the show early.

I grab a nearby table and sit down with the other women. Tara takes a seat next to me. And on my other side, much to my surprise and dismay, Joanne settles down.

Great.

“Get to work, guys!” Daphne’s voice booms in the auditorium. “Show us your best work! Make my wedding even more special than it has already been!” She giggles. “Let’s see what you girls have got!”

We begin.

The room fills with the rustle and shifting of dozens of arms, and a chorus of whispering voices.

I pick up a plump, perfectly round gingerbread cookie from the tray in front of me and eye the decorations lying all around it, wondering what to start with.

“Glaze would be a good beginning option,” Tara says conversationally. “It’s sticky, so you can add the other things too after you’re done with it.”

“Hmmm. Yeah, you’re right.” I pick up a brush dipped in glaze and slowly start painting the cookie with it, using light, even strokes. “Have you done this before?”

“Oh, many times.” Tara chuckles briefly, a sound that is as perfectly calculated and controlled as the rest of her. “When I was your age, you know, young and carefree and foolish. I did all these sorts of things more than you can imagine.”

Wow.

It’s true, but I find it hard to imagine that the prim and proper woman sitting next to me once was like me. But maybe it’s all a question of time. Maybe I’ll turn into her too, once I’m old enough. The thought is a bit unnerving.

“How are you doing, Lena?”

Joanne’s voice chimes up, high and merry and dripping with false interest. My insides tighten and I turn towards her to find her giving me a smile that is as artificial as the rest of her.

“Sorry, what?” My voice is unexpectedly curt, and I don’t try to soften it. After what this woman said about me in her email, she doesn’t deserve any softness.

“I was asking how you’re doing.” Joanne’s smile widens, turning grotesque because there’s no warmth behind it. It looks like the horrible rictus of a grin a skeleton would display.

“I’m fine,” I answered brusquely, returning my attention to my cookie, which I’ve been unknowingly squeezing between two fingers. I immediately relax my grip, and continue applying glaze to it.

“Oh, that’s great to here.” Again, that cringing jolly tone fills my ears and makes me wince inwardly.

I reluctantly turn sideways again and find Joanne leaning close to me, giving me a look of almost manic friendliness.

Derek’s scent wafts from her body in thick waves and reaches my nostrils. That same mix of spice and wood and musk, all blending together to create the aroma of my painful past.

“I hope you’re not feeling too down about Derek and I getting married,” Joanne continues cheerfully. “You know, considering the history between you two and all, and the fact that I’m his fated mate, not you. That doesn’t, like, sting or anything, right? Because I’d hate for you to be feeling bad about this.”

I regard Joanne coolly for a moment, my insides simmering. Then I lean forward right towards her, surprising both her and me. Now my face is inches from hers, and my eyes are skewering holes into her socket with a cold fury.

“Actually, it’s the opposite,” I tell Joanne in my most pleasantly venomous voice.

“Derek may have wasted my time, but it’s because of him that I’ve found the right person for me. The perfect person. Who I couldn’t be happier with.” I grin, showing her my canines. “So, if you’re looking to pick a fight, sweetie, don’t bother.”

Joanne blinks dumbly, thrown off-guard by my response. The cheeriness slowly fades from her face, leaving her true self visible.

A cruel, ice-cold human obsessed with hurting me. But she can’t. Not anymore.

And she knows that. I watch her tear her fuming eyes away from mine and resume decorating her cookie, with no particular care or concern.

That ought to teach her.

Feeling satisfied, I return my attention to the task at hand.

“That was brave, the way you stood up to her,” Tara comments dryly.

My hands freeze, and I look at Tanner’s mother in surprise.

How in the hell did she hear the exchange that happened between Joanne and me?

We were practically whispering, and the room was already full of noise. Christmas songs were playing the entire time, too.

“She—It was her fault, she started it,” I sputter defensively.

“I never said she didn’t.” Tara gives me an appraising, slightly approving look.

Her eyes twinkle catching the light. “You know how to stand up for yourself. That’s impressive. It’s also necessary if you’re going to be with an Alpha.”

I’m still struggling with the fact that she just complimented me.

It was a small compliment, but still a huge improvement over her behavior when she first met me.

“How do you feel, by the way?” Tara asks suddenly, breaking the silence once more. “About Derek getting married.”

She’s talking to me while working methodically on her cookie, her fingers squeezing the tube of icing and creating tiny snowflakes on its surface.

“I—” My mouth is open and I’m about to give a typical, rehearsed answer, but then I think better of it. This woman sitting beside me is too sharp to accept that.

She would value honesty more than anything else, is what my guess is. So honesty is what I’ll go with.

“I don’t care,” I tell Tara, in a firm voice. “I don’t care what Derek does in his life anymore.”

“Hmmm.” She nods her head and doesn’t say anything more.

I get the feeling that the answer I gave her was one she already knew, but not one she was expecting me to actually voice. Good. She should know I’m not so predictable.

“How do you feel about me and Tanner dating?” I ask her, in a sudden burst of courage.

Tara purses her lips. “I’m not exactly thrilled about the fact that you’re a rogue wolf,” she says bluntly. “No one really knows anything about your background, and you’ve never been part of a pack. But since you and Tanner have decided to be together, I will make my peace with your decision and try to be happy for you both.”

I fall into silence, reflecting upon her answer.

Make my peace with your decision.

It sounds awfully like I’m simply being tolerated, and that doesn’t sit right with me.

Tolerated. Is that how the rest of the pack will see me?

What if I don’t belong here?

Tara’s words echo in my head, stirring an unease I can’t shake. Tanner chose me, but was it the right choice? Am I really strong enough to stand by his side, to take the weight of being the Alpha’s mate?

For the first time, I’m not so sure.