Belle's Beast | ?

By the time that a month had passed, Arabella and Phoenix had fallen into a routine. Every day they would eat breakfast together, then Phoenix would go to his office and do his work. During this time Arabella would do whatever she wanted; which often meant her going down to the training grounds to work out, spending time with Rosa helping around the pack.

One endeavour with the pack historian led her to trace her ancestry. She already knew that she was from Caribbean descent; she remembered her parents, the curries and stews her granny would cook, and some of the stories they had told her as a child. She would never forget the Vampire-like soucouyant, and the dangerous douen that had terrified her for months. These were, of course, all village folklore that she, growing up in the city of London, didn't have to worry about, but she had been scared nonetheless.

It gave her a chance to reminisce about those times without dwelling too much on her life's tragedy, and to keep an important part of her identity alive. She immersed herself in anything and everything that she could find that brought her closer to her heritage. In fact, that was how she started to find an enjoyment in the kitchen; she would try out different recipes from the Caribbean to try to recapture her childhood, and it gave her some peace to know that in re-discovering and embracing her roots, she was keeping her family alive.

She had cried like a baby the first time she had made and tasted a pelau, and it had reminded her of her fathers pot. She had been so inconsolable that Phoenix had found her and had to calm her down. He didn't completely understand, but he could see what it meant to her, and how important it was. He supported her with every pot and seasonings she made, and both respected and embraced each part of her heritage that she shared with him.

He looked forward to trying the things she made; she was adamant that they did it together. So, at lunch, she would take whatever she had cooked that day to Phoenix's office, and they would eat together. Then, because they would fall into such ease with each other, they would often spend time together before Phoenix went back to work.

When Phoenix came out of his office, they went down to the communal dining hall in the pack house and ate the pack. Arabella was finally settled within the pack and they seemed to receive her well too. Phoenix was proud of his mate; she was strong and a natural leader. Each day ended with Phoenix whispering loving truths to Arabella as he held her in his arms.

Both Arabella and Phoenix were content with their routine. Arabella was no longer afraid of things changing, or of Phoenix hurting her. She had spent enough time with him to believe that he would never hurt her, she trusted him, and he had earned it.

However, for the past couple weeks, Phoenix had become more and more distant. Arabella was unsure if she was the cause or if it was his work that was frustrating him- either way, he wouldn't say. He had been more busy than usual, but whenever she asked, he would clam up and shut her out. She would never admit it to his face, but it was starting to make her uneasy.

She was also hurt that he wouldn't include her. He had told her that she was the pack's Luna, his equal, but she was still left out. In fact, she seemed to be doing everything other than helping him to take care of his pack. Didn't he trust her enough to tell her what was going on?

Her hurt turned to anger. After everything he had told her about packs and Alphas and Lunas, the least he could do was tell her what was going on. She hated that she didn't know; that she was being left in the dark. She knew what that was like, she had spent the better part of 20 years living it; the pity filled looks from police officers when her parents had died, the whispers between social workers and group home leaders.The monster; that had been a whole other kind of darkness. The residual feelings of being helpless were like the metallic taste of acid on her tongue.