I sighed and grabbed my watercolors. As always, I got lost in the painting, even though I was kind of ruining it. Painting always gave me a sense of belonging. I could push all thoughts out of my mind and just focus on my work.

It took a little over an hour to alter the painting and when I finished, I couldn't help but chuckle. He was going to be so angry.

While I let it dry, I went into the kitchen to see if dinner was ready yet. There were a couple of workers in the kitchen, but there was no sign of Mariah.

"Where's Mariah?" I asked one of the chefs.

"She went to help out at the packhouse," she explained. "Are you hungry? I just finished with the roast beef."

My mouth watered as she took the roast beef out of the oven. It smelled incredible; with it was potatoes and roasted carrots.

"Starving," I admitted.

She piled good onto a plate and slid it across the counter for me. As I ate, I couldn't help but feel a bit sad. Elliot isn't here to eat with me and usually, he's home around now. "Have you heard from the Alpha?" I asked the worker.

She shook her head.

packhouse. I've heard there have been some rogue attacks that he's

I nodded, understanding.

The look on the worker's face told me that she heard me loud and

with

incredible," I told

silent, and I was once thrust into my own thoughts. I

my painting. It was almost completely dry. Pleased with myself, I took the portrait back upstairs and hung it on the wall. I was so lost in thought, that I didn't even hear the bedroom door opening. I froze when Elliot's presence invaded the room. A warmth

stepped up behind me. I couldn't

you do

of. Immediately,

this?" He asked, his

my throat and kept my eyes averted from his. I was too nervous to look at him. I wasn't sure what to expect so

question. What is this?" He asked again, anger

and looked at the picture, folding my arms across my

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