Page 87 of The Alpha and the Baker
“Well…”
“Castiel McCallister, out with it.”
He grimaced at the use of his full name, but I was serious. “I might have gone to the market on a day I wasn’t supposed to be there. If we lose the bake-off, they’re going to report me to the fairies for the violation.”
All the color drained from my face. “What would they do if you were reported?”
“It’s hard to say. Maybe take some of our land. Maybe conscript some of our members into their personal guard. Banish me. Whatever they want to do, really. They’re not exactly pleased my father took over and that things have been going so smoothly for a while, so I don’t expect them to be lenient.”
My hands curled into fists at my side, and I started to tremble. I didn’t lose my temper that often, but when I did, it made me feel like crying and punching something.
“That’s not fair! Cas! How could you not tell me how important this was!”
“Because I didn’t want to put too much pressure on you. I knew it would upset you.” He stood, turning me to face him. “Felicia, I know how big your heart is. And I’m sorry for keeping this from you, but I promise, down to the bottom of my heart, that I truly believe in you. I have zero doubts that you will not only win this thing, but you’ll decimate the competition.”
That softened my worries, but only by a bit. My mind was racing like it was trying to encode everything I’d just learnedandfigure out a way to solve it in five minutes flat. Definitely not possible, but that was my probably undiagnosed ADHD talking.
“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Cas said, straightening suddenly and reaching for his pocket. “Gammy McCallister wanted me to give this to you.”
Now, it was my turn to be surprised. “Gammy McCallister said something about me?” We’d had a great time together, and I owed her for being the one to accidentally get me to stay at thereunion, but I’d figured she’d forgotten about me. After all, she was old for a shifter, and her memory wasn’t exactly the best.
“Of course. She’s mentioned you at least a couple of times. She says it’s not fair that Auntie Siobhan got to have you all to herself at dinner and wants you to visit again. I figured maybe we could do something right after the bake-off. I know my mother would love to host you in her home.”
“She does know there were like twenty people at that dinner, right?”
“She does. In our pack, that’s a calm night.” He grinned before finally pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. “This is for you, from her.”
I took it delicately. It was wrapped around something. Abruptly, all my feelings of anger, injustice, and frustration shifted into something much more positive.
“She really got this for me?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Sweetheart, it’s because you’re a lovely person and she likes you. I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re a part of the pack. And in packs, it’s normal for elders to give gifts to family members.
Elders. Pack. Family.
His words echoed around my head. I’d known I was welcome on the McCallister lands, but it was another thing entirely to hold physical proof of that in my hands. Cas had told me plenty of times that I wasn’t alone anymore, that I was a part of his family, but it seemed so much morerealnow.
“Are you going to open it?” Cas asked softly, gently squeezing my arms to ground me.
“Yeah, I am. Just… savoring the moment, I suppose.”
“You take as long as you need.”
I slowly untied the paisley kerchief. Practically holding my breath, I pulled a necklace from the soft fabric.
“Oh, Cas, it’sbeautiful.”
It wasn’t anything fancy. No jewels or diamonds, but that didn’t matter one iota. It was made out of dark green beads with little silver flower spacers between them. At its center was a river stone that had been polished to a bright shine and was engraved with special runes
“It’s for protection,” Cas said softly.
“Oh, is Gammy McCallister a witch?”
He chuckled. “No, nothing like that. But you don’t get to be an elder without picking up some old traditions, and this is one of them. She said her uncle Davis made her one when she was a little girl, so she wanted to pass the tradition onto you.”
“Me?” I echoed, my fingers tracing the tiny, rather delicate symbols. “And she made this?”
“Well, she had help from some of the kids. Jason has a knack for the tiny knots needed for the beads. Apparently, it’s made in a way so that if the string breaks, all the beads won’t all just fall off the cord.”
