Fated for Two

Farrah looked from one fork to the other and sighed, “Which one am I supposed to eat from first?”

Everard snickered and she turned to glare at him. So, clearing his throat, he told her, “You accept his first because he is alpha here. You accept mine second because technically I’m just the visiting alpha.”

Farrah nodded and took the fork full of potato salad that Brenton offered. Once she had swallowed, she took the fork with a piece of ham on it from Everard. Then both the men took a bite of their own food. When that was done, the pack began to fill their own plates so they could eat.

They never did bring Farrah a plate of her own, but that was all right because between Everard’s plate and Brenton’s, there was plenty. In fact, halfway through the meal, she realized Everard was giving her more than he was eating himself. Brenton was discussing something with Owen, so he kept forgetting to feed her, which was fine because she had Everard’s complete attention. That was how she realized that for every one bite he took; he gave her at least three.

“Everard, why aren’t you eating?” Farrah softly asked him.

Everard looked down at his plate.

“Everard,” she whispered, leaning over slightly so she could nuzzle at his cheek. “Sweetie, you need to eat more.”

“I know, but all these people, I can feel them watching me and it makes my stomach churn,” Everard muttered back. “I don’t have much of an appetite anyway, and that really isn’t helping much.”

Farrah hummed and took his fork. Everard turned wide eyes to look at her, but she just gave him a smile and said, “Okay, I’ll feed you then.”

“No…” Everard’s words were choked out when she shoved a fork full of green beans in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, opening his mouth to say something else, but she didn’t give him a chance to before shoving a forkful of baked beans into his mouth. After the third time she’d done this to him, he moved his head back to avoid the next fork full and said, “Farrah, I am a grown man perfectly capable of feeding myself.”

A laugh from across the table drew his and Farrah’s gaze.

“Just what are you laughing at?” Everard asked Mason’s wife Tara.

Tara shook her head and said, “You, Alpha. You have been feeding her this whole time and you didn’t hear her complaining about how she was an adult and could feed herself.”

Everard huffed and said, “That’s different. That is the way it is done. The alpha takes care of his mate, provides for her.”

“Yes, but she will provide for you too,” Tara reminded him softly. “She will make sure you have clean clothes, she will cook your meals, she’ll listen to your daily woes, she will provide you with children when the time comes. So, it seems to me that she will do a lot of “providing” for you. I don’t see why making sure you eat well is any different. Besides, you need to eat, everyone in the pack has watched as you have slowly become a bag of bones.”

Everard looked down at his plate, the concern in Tara’s voice was almost his undoing. He knew his pack cared about him, after all, they had refused to leave him when he’d almost begged them to. He just hadn’t realized how deep that care went.

“You are our alpha,” Tara said. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you stopped coming over and eating with Mason and me, and when you did you barely ate anything. You’ve also started missing more pack mealtimes and when you are there, we notice most of the time you just drink a bottle of water.”

“Everard, is that true?” Farrah whispered.

Everard looked at Farrah, his face hot in his shame at having been called out. He hadn’t wanted to take food out of the mouth of his pack. They had so little as it was, and he just felt guilty. At first, it had been easy because he just shifted into his wolf and hunted for food. Later though, when he became too weak from lack of nutrition to shift, it had been harder and that was when he had begun losing so much weight.

By this time, Brenton had realized something serious was being talked about on the other side of him because Farrah had stiffened in his lap. He turned to find out what was going on and found Everard’s face red, his sad and guilty-looking eyes. He also noticed how Everard’s beta and his wife were watching Everard. So, he questioned, “What are all of you talking about?”

Farrah turned to look at him as she answered, “Everard and his tendency to not eat.” She turned back to Everard and gently asked, “Everard, do you have an eating disorder? If you do, it’s okay, we’ll help you.”

Everard’s eyes widened and he paled as he began to shake his head emphatically, saying, “No, no, no! It’s nothing like that, I promise. Look, this isn’t exactly the place to be talking about this, can we do it later?”

Farrah sighed.

Brenton reached over and placed his hand on Everard’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. It saddened him to feel very little muscle on that shoulder when it used to be almost as muscular as his own. “Sure, we can discuss this later. Now, finish all that food on your plate, can’t let all this good cooking go to waste, can we?”

Everard sighed at the reprieve Brenton had given him and picked up his fork as he muttered, “Nope.” Then he ate until his plate was empty as he listened to Tara and Farrah discuss desserts.

Brenton finally finished his discussion with Owen and stood up. Grabbing hold of Farrah’s hand and beckoning Everard to follow, he moved them slowly around to mingle with the packs. He reacquainted himself with some of Everard’s packmates and was introduced to ones he didn’t know. He also gave Everard a chance to reacquaint himself with his own packmates before he introduced the new ones to him. As they went, he made sure to make it clear that Everard was to be respected as an alpha. He wanted Everard to be comfortable here, not feel like an outcast.

Brenton heaved a heavy internal sigh as he realized just how much damage his anger toward Everard had caused. As he moved through Everard’s pack members, he found them steering clear of his, not mingling, and barely seemed to be eating anything. They all looked uncomfortable at the looks they were receiving from his pack. This all made him realize just how much work it was going to take to integrate the two packs.

A few of his pack members, ones that remembered Everard from before seemed to be thawing toward him, thanks to Farrah. When she found ones that had known Everard growing up, she demanded they tell her what he was like.

Farrah soon had a crowd of older men and women telling her tales of him and Everard in their youth.

“Where there was one, you were sure to find the other,” James, an older pack member guffawed.

“Oh, do tell,” Farrah encouraged.

James had then spun a tale about the two of them knocking down the dessert table at a pack get-together when they were five. When he’d finished, he laughed, and said, “Oh, it was a sight. Their mamas were fit to be tied I tell ya. Everard’s face was covered in chocolate frosting and Alpha Brenton’s face was covered in blackberry cobbler. I didn’t think the blackberry stain would ever come off the poor boy’s face.”

Brenton’s face and Everard’s lit up in embarrassment at the tale.

“I can almost see that happening,” Farrah said, laughing as she hugged both men to her. She sighed and said, “I remember my mom telling me about my brothers doing things like that. They were only a year apart and thick as thieves, always causing my poor mom anxiety. She would always tell me that if I ever had boys, don’t bring them to her house for more than an hour at the time because after raising my brother her poor heart wouldn’t survive it.”

“Brothers?” James’s wife Mable asked.

“Mm… Devan and Glen. They were killed in the pack wars along with my dad,” Farrah answered, a sad and faraway look on her face. She then seemed to almost shake herself as she said, “We should go, there is still more of the pack to meet. Brenton?”

Brenton stood up along with her and Everard and they began to circulate once more. He made sure to discreetly tell some of his older pack members to go and make the Steward pack feel more welcome, to become acquainted with them. Most of them agreed and as they left them, he watched them head toward the Steward pack members. He’d done what he could, now he just had to wait and see if it helped.

Farrah yawned as the three of them climbed out of Brenton’s truck and headed for the front door of the house. “You know, today was a good day, but it sure was a long one.”

They’d had the meeting, eaten, and spent time circulating through the pack. She thought she’d ended up meeting everyone, not just a few of them as she’d planned. Then they’d gone back to Brenton’s pack-house and he had begun explaining what her role as the “Lady Alpha” was. He’d even handed her a couple of books about the pack he thought might help. While she’d read, he and Everard had discussed what the best way to run the packs would be.

When dinner time had rolled around, Beta Owen had shown up and announced that everyone was waiting for the alpha.

During the dinner meal, Farrah had gotten to know Owen and his wife Terri a bit better along with their four-year-old, Teresa. She had really enjoyed spending time with the pack and getting to know a few of them. However, she had noticed that Everard was still uncomfortable and had eaten very little compared to Brenton. She knew they needed to talk about his eating habits no matter how tired she was.

Stepping into the house, Farrah pulled Everard along with her into the living room and made him sit. She took a seat beside him as Brenton took the leftover dessert they’d been giving to the kitchen. She heard him rattling silverware and figured he’d eat some of it before he came back. She laughed internally; the man loved to eat.

“All right, now it’s time for you to tell me why you don’t eat, and I want the truth,” Farrah commanded.

“Farrah, we’ve already discussed this, and my answer isn’t going to change,” Everard said as he gave a huffing growl of annoyance. “I didn’t eat as much because I wanted to make sure the pack had plenty. Yes, sometimes I would go have a meal with Mason and Tera, but they have two growing boys to feed. I wasn’t going to take food out of their mouths.” He lay his head back on the couch and closed his eyes as he heard Brenton enter the room. Feeling the couch move, he knew Brenton had taken a seat and he continued, “At first, it wasn’t too bad. I ate enough to make everyone happy, then I shifted into my wolf and hunted to fill up completely. Unfortunately, the longer I went on so little food the weaker my body became. After a while, it became harder and harder to shift into my wolf because it burned more calories than I had. So, I had to stop doing even that.”

“So, at that point, you barely ate at all, is that what I’m hearing?” Brenton asked, his voice deep with emotion.

Everard opened his eyes to look at Brenton and saw the pain in his eyes. He knew Brenton was feeling guilty like it was partially his fault, but he wasn’t the reason Everard was a horrible alpha. It also wasn’t his fault that Warren, the true alpha was dead. Shaking his head, he said, “Yes. However, it isn’t your fault Brenton, so don’t start blaming yourself. It will take a while to build my appetite back up, but it will grow and as it does so will I, and soon my wolf will be able to show himself also. I know the two of you mean well, but you can’t keep trying to force food on me. I know that if I eat too much it will just make me sick because I’ve been so long without.”

Farrah wiped a few tears from her face that had fallen and leaned against Everard. She cupped his cheeks and gave him a sweet kiss before saying, “I’m sorry I’m being such a nag, Everard. I just want you to be healthy, you and your wolf.”

“I know, baby,” Everard murmured against her lips. “I’ll get there, I promise.”

She kissed him again.

Everard pulled her onto his lap, needing her closer. One hand came up to tangle in her hair as the other cupped her butt, pulling her tight against his growing arousal. He growled deep in his chest at the feel of her moving against him. He wanted her, oh, how he wanted her.

“Sweet man, I want you so much,” Farrah moaned out as she tangled her finger in the long hair on the top of his head. Baring her neck in a submissive pose, she whispered, “I want to belong.”

Everard raised his head up, gazing into her eyes as he asked, “Are you saying you’re ready for Brenton and me to mark you?”

Farrah held her gaze steady with his as she answered, “I am.”