“Hello, Ama! You’re an early riser I see.” Harry calls from behind a row of blueberry bushes. “Want to give me a hand with these?”

I sit on the floor beside him and scoot down the row of bushes, picking all the low-hanging fruit while he does the higher sections. As we go along, he tells me about how the harvest this year is the best he’s had in the past ten. I notice that he doesn’t comment on my now mostly-healed bruises though I catch him staring a few times.

As he continues talking, I wonder how long he’s lived here and decide to bite the bullet and ask.

“Well, let’s see. I guess this winter will be eighteen years. Doesn’t feel like it’s been that long really.”

I don’t mean to pry but I also desperately want to know. “What about your family?” I ask, thinking that there must be people out in the world who looked for him when he went missing.

“Myra and Cassidy? Well, they’ve been here that long too. Though Cassidy was born here.”

I immediately look away, hoping to hide my shock. I had no idea that they were his children.

I know that there are five humans living here from what Myra told me, so I ask, “Who are the other two humans who live here?” I’m hoping to change the subject but in the end up falling right back into it.

“There’s Tomas and Madeline. Tomas is my oldest and Madeline is turning ten next month,” he beams as any proud father might.

There aren’t five trapped individuals like me. There's an entire family living here and then there’s me. I am now keenly aware that there’s no chance in hell they’ll help me escape. They’ve been living here for most if not all of their lives. I want to ask how they’d gotten here in the first place but I don’t want to press my luck. Plus, just the knowledge that there’s a happy little human family living under the oppressive tyranny of Alpha is information overload. My day has barely started and I’ve already heard and learned and felt way too much.

We continue on in silence, though it’s a relatively comfortable one. I’m just trying to process what he’s said on top of everything else and he’s humming softly to himself.

When we finish with the blueberries we move on to raspberries and then he announces it’s time for a break.

He takes me outside and over to an empty vineyard on the far side of the packhouse. We sit in the shade of a large tree and he pulls out a few apples.

“It’s a beautiful place here. Serene. You won’t find anywhere else like it.”

I can’t argue with that. He’s right; it is beautiful. But it’s hard to admit that out loud when it’s also my prison.

“In the summer when the vineyard is ready to be picked, the whole place comes alive. I can even get some of the young ones out here to help me. Beta Niles even joins in sometimes. Don’t tell anyone but I think he’d rather work out here than on patrols.”

I nod like it all makes sense to me. Harry seems genuinely pleased with his life. Is it possible that I’m the only one who's a prisoner? Can he and his children come and go as they please?

Again, I’m burning with unasked questions but I know I need to get to know them better before asking so that I don’t arouse suspicion. So I smile and nod and listen to him tell me all about the harvest they will have next year and how he’ll be grateful for my help.

I force myself not to think about it…next year. I just need to take things day by day and sooner or later I’ll have what I need to get out of here.

The next few days passed without any other surprises, beyond of course the fact that people can turn into wolves when I realize I need to wash my sheets, towels, and clothing.

After Harry declares that we are done for the day, I ask him how I’m supposed to do that. He seems genuinely surprised that I don’t already know and tells me the laundry room is the door across the hall from where I sleep.

Needless to say, I’m a bit embarrassed and I excuse myself to go do just that. I gather up my things and cross the hall, pushing open a large door, perpendicular to the ones that lead into the kitchen.

It’s quite spacious. Along one wall are a set of six washing machines and opposites to them are the dryers. On the far wall is a long metal table and a large storage rack that has clear boxes of was looks like Tide pods.

I snort as I took one out of the box, holding it in my palm. “They don’t have chocolate but they’ve got Tide pods, huh?” I murmured to myself, only to have my spine then try to exit through my ass as someone responds in a room I was sure was empty.

“Well, you know dogs and chocolate…”

I whip around, my heart pounding, and see Beta Kane sitting crossed-legged on top of one of the dryers reading.

I don’t know how I missed him when I entered but considering how settled in he seems to be, with a half-eaten sandwich beside him, I’m assuming he’s been here the whole time.

He turns a page, not looking up at me as he asks, “Do you know how to use those?”

My brain seems to have ceased all intelligent function as I wonder if he’s just made a joke about himself and the others being dogs and also if I am about to die.

As the silence drags on for an uncomfortably long time, he finally looks up with a sigh and gestures to the machines behind me.

“Do you know how to use a washing machine?”

I nod, dumbly, before taking a deep breath, trying to bring my blood pressure back down. “Yesh, uh, yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

I quickly turn and bend down to pick up my clothes, having dropped them when he scared the living daylights out of me.

The washing machines are different from one I’ve used before but it’s not rocket science so I get it sorted quickly. When the load is finally running I set my hands on top and debate if I should wait here or leave and come back when it’s done. I don’t have anywhere else to be but I also feel like waiting with Beta Kane would either force us into a conversation or make us sit in even more uncomfortable silence.

Before I reach a decision, he interrupts my thoughts, “I’ll have your crutch for you by tomorrow evening.”

I turn around, and bob my head in what I hope seems like a thank you. Our eyes meet for a second before I remember to look away.

“Is there anything else you need?”

My gaze snaps back to him surprised by the question. I don’t want to kid myself into thinking that it’s a genuine concern but coupled with the joke he told earlier and our meeting a few nights before, I’m not sure what to make of him. In the office, I had been reminded that he’s just like the rest of them but, it’s easy to forget when I’m face to face with him now and he’s being…nice.

He seems to think I’m not going to answer so he shrugs a shoulder and looks back down at his book.

I take the opportunity to study him. Fluorescent lighting shouldn’t be flattering on anyone but he seems to do just fine with it. He has a broad face with sharp cheekbones and a straight nose, slightly upturned. I can’t see his eyes but they are fringed with thick, dark lashes. His hair is up in a half-ponytail leaving the rest to fall onto his broad shoulders.

I follow the movement of one of his hands and he scratches along his jaw, drawing my attention to the stubble there and then up to his lips. I feel myself bristling with annoyance. Every time I am alone with one of them, I become an idiot, though this is the first time it’s not fear but interest that’s turned my mind to mush.

I’m sure he must feel me staring because he looks up again, and I’m surprised by the glow of his eyes. They are dark chocolate brown but seem to shimmer with golden light.

Do they have eyes that glow like that?

“Perhaps a coat?” His question catches me off guard and I remember he asked if I needed anything. Considering the weather will only get colder, I decide not to play the martyr and nod.

“Gloves and a hat would be nice as well.”

He nods, closing the book and uncrossing his legs, which are long enough that his feet reach the floor. He stands and even from across the room I feel dwarfed.

“Any color preference?”

Again, I’m not expecting that level of consideration and I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, which is, “brown.”

He arches a brow and nods slowly. “They’ll be delivered tomorrow as well,” he says over his shoulder as he exits the room, his half-eaten sandwich presumably forgotten.

I slump back against the washing machine and sigh loudly. I wonder if he usually hides away and reads in here or if he knew I’d come. I also hate myself for getting tongue-tied and I can’t ignore the fact that my brain goes screwy around them. I need to ask Cassidy or Myra the next time we have a quiet moment away from prying ears.

The next day passes quickly and I'm barely aware of my surroundings as I trudge back to my room. I couldn’t fall asleep last night, uncomfortable and afraid, plus my leg is still so sore. I should not wear the prosthetic for a few days to let it rest but that doesn't seem like an option.

I’m almost to my door when I run into a wall. I bounce back, stumbling and a vice grip grabs my arm, steadying me.

I look up and see Beta Kane. I forget for a moment and hold his gaze, surprised by how light his eyes are in better lighting; they look like caramel.

He clears his throat and I'm brought out of my daze. I look away and notice he's carrying a crutch and a bag in his other hand.

I take another step back and he lets go of me. “Sorry," I murmur, my eyes still on the crutch. He said he was going to have it for me today but I hadn't really put much stock in it.

He holds it out to me. "Is this the right kind?"

"Yes, thanks." I reach out, itching to take it. With this I could feasibly go a day or two without my leg on, assuming I don't need to walk too far. I make a mental note to check with Harry before ditching the foot.

He places it in my outstretched hands and I quickly adjust the height and angle of the grip, testing it a few times by walking by and forth in the hallway. I'm so focused that I forgot about him until it's correctly set up.

He seems to sense that I've gotten it right as he holds out the bag, blocking my path as I circle back around again.

"The coat and gloves...brown as requested." he isn't smiling but I can hear the humor in his voice. I'm not sure why I chose brown either but it doesn't seem that funny.

I nod my thanks and take the bag as well. Before I can say thanks again, he steps around me and heads over to the kitchen doors.

I think about calling after him but I've got nothing to say.

I sigh and go into my room. Removing my leg, it's worse than I thought. the skin has begun to ulcerate and the whole area is swollen and hot to the touch. I decide that I won't wear it tomorrow, even if I haven’t told Harry; I’m pretty sure he’ll understand.

I flip back on the bed with an exasperated sigh. I'd say it's luck that I got the crutch just in time but nothing about this situation seems lucky