8. Chapter 8
Adrian
I wake to the sound of Julia's soft breathing from my bedroom. I’ve barely managed to close my eyes for a few hours, but I’m used to it.
My wolf stirs beneath my skin, restless and satisfied all at once.
Her scent, now deliciously tangled with my own, permeates the entire cabin.
My beast prowls contentedly, convinced that what happened last night was the beginning of something real.
I know better. This is just an arrangement, a mutually beneficial lie. The kiss that still burns on my lips was just part of the act.
A necessary means to an end.
I drag myself into the shower, turning the water cold enough to shock my system back to reality.
By the time I emerge, dressed in my uniform, Julia is already in the kitchen.
She's wearing what I assume is her version of casual.
A pale-blue cashmere dress hugs her generous curves in a way that makes it difficult not to stare.
Her hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and she's sipping coffee from my favorite mug.
She looks like she belongs here. My wolf rumbles in agreement.
"Morning," I say, keeping my voice neutral despite the way my pulse quickens at the sight of her.
"Morning." Her eyes flick to mine, then away. "I made coffee. Hope that's okay."
"More than okay." I pour myself a cup, careful to maintain distance between us. The memory of her body pressed against mine is still too fresh. "Sleep well?"
"Fine." Her cheeks flush slightly. "Your bed is comfortable."
An awkward silence stretches between us. I clear my throat.
“I’ll drop you off at Windfall Manor, then conduct the few interviews for the rest of the vendors and staff we haven’t been able to get around to.”
Julia nods, all business now. "Is that how we’ll maintain our story? You dropping me off in the morning?"
So everyone knows she spent the night in my bed. So every male and female around can smell my fresh scent on her body the moment she steps out of my patrol car.
"It’s exactly right."
My wolf prowls beneath my skin, ready to pounce on the occasion to rub against her again. To taste her again. No human will be able to detect it, but any wolf, dragon, even orcs will be able to tell. My scent permeates her skin, clinging to her hair in a way that feels all too good.
Dangerous. I’m already feeling too possessive around her. I’ll have to thread carefully.
She smells like my flannel shirt even though she's changed into her own clothes. The scent of her, vanilla and cinnamon, mingles with mine in a way that sends a primal satisfaction surging through me. My wolf preens at the evidence that she's been marked as ours.
Not ours. This isn't real.
"We should establish some ground rules," Julia says, setting down her mug with a decisive click. "About touching and… other things."
"Agreed. What did you have in mind?"
"Hand-holding is acceptable. Maybe an arm around the waist if necessary. But nothing like…" She gestures vaguely between us, her cheeks pinkening. "Last night."
Last night. When I kissed her and felt something click into place. When her soft lips yielded under mine and her small, surprised gasp echoed in my ears.
"Agreed," I say, even as my wolf growls in disagreement. "Just enough to be convincing."
She nods, visibly relieved. "Good. Then we're on the same page."
But as I follow her out to my truck, I'm not convinced we're even reading the same book.
The drive to Windfall Manor is quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Julia fidgets with her phone, occasionally tapping out messages to her assistant. I keep my eyes on the road, trying not to notice how she's unconsciously rubbing her wrist where I scented her last night.
We park in the staff lot, and Julia turns to me before we exit the vehicle.
"So we’re going in hand in hand," she says, her tone all business. "Nothing more."
"That won’t be enough," I reply. My wolf growls that it’s definitely not enough. Not nearly enough. “Yesterday’s scent mark is fading already.”
Julia hesitates, then her professional mask slides back into place.
"Of course. You're right."
“We don’t have to kiss,” I tell her as my wolf’s hackles rise in outrage. “But I’ll still put a fresh mark on you. Just on your wrist and neck.”
She swallows and I follow the movement as her throat moves up and down.
Those big hazel eyes pin me in place as her full, delicious lips part slightly.
The scent of her becomes nearly unbearable as I lift her wrists to my face and rub them on my lips.
Her skin feels soft and delicate under my lips and my cock strains, unwelcome and untamed.
I feel like a horny teenager and not a mature wolf about to become alpha.
My fangs elongate in response to her scent. I want to graze them along her limbs, feel her shiver underneath me as I climb over her. Julia suppresses a little gasp as I accidentally scrape my fangs to her vulnerable flesh.
It almost undoes me. Almost. But I’m no brash pup. I have control over my instincts. And over my wolf.
At least, that’s what I always thought. As I’m rubbing my face over Julia’s pulse points, inhaling her scent, putting it over myself, I’m not so sure anymore .
I pull away from her wrist and turn to look at her. Julia’s eyes are glazed and her cheeks are flushed. She looks so beautiful, so desirable, I almost forget this is all pretend.
Almost.
“Is that all?” she asks and reality washes over me like a cold shower.
“Yes,” I answer, my voice lost in a growl.
Julia’s eyes widen at the sound of it and her eyes trail over my face, down my chest, and to my crotch, where a powerful erection strains my uniform pants.
“Sorry,” I mutter, my voice low.
“It’s okay. It’s only normal.”
But it’s not. I’m losing control. I exit the vehicle, glad to put some distance between us, even if it’s just for a few moments. I circle the car to open her door and she steps out. She still smells of arousal, but it’s fading and fast.
Good. I don’t think I could keep control of my wolf if she did. I offer my hand. After a moment's hesitation, she takes it. Her fingers are cool and small against my palm.
We walk toward the grand entrance, our hands clasped between us.
The manor staff do double takes as we pass, their whispered conversations following in our wake. Julia keeps her chin high, her stride purposeful. If I didn't know better, if I couldn't smell the anxiety beneath her perfume, I'd think she was completely at ease.
"Your reputation as the town's most eligible bachelor is taking a hit," she murmurs as we navigate the corridors. "The head gardener just looked at me like I've stolen the crown jewels."
"Let them talk," I reply, squeezing her hand gently. "It makes our story more believable. "
We pass by the Grand Salon, where Silverine Draak is hosting a tea for the bridal party and family members.
“Julia!” Silverine calls as we pass in front of the doorway. Conversations pause as heads turn our way. “Please come in.”
Julia freezes and her small hand squeezes mine. Her heartbeat becomes faster, but she turns to the assembled people with a professional smile on her lips.
“Of course, Mrs. Draak.”
She lets go of my hand as we step inside.
I scan the room automatically, noting exits and the positions of all occupants—years of law enforcement training die hard.
The room is elegantly appointed, with sunlight streaming through bay windows and reflecting off silver tea services.
The air is heavy with the scent of roses and jasmine from elaborate floral arrangements.
My gaze lands on a figure seated beside Silverine, and my blood runs cold.
What fresh Hell is this?
My mother, Meredith Wolfsbane, sits regally on a velvet settee, teacup poised at her lips, her silver-streaked dark hair swept into an elegant chignon. Her predatory gaze locks on me the moment we enter. She looks at me like I’m a rabbit in a trap. And like she’s a wolf ready for its meal.
This is bad. This is very, very bad.
Julia feels me tense and glances up.
"What is it?"
"My mother," I mutter, just as Meredith rises to her feet with fluid grace .
"Adrian," she calls, her voice carrying across the room. "What a pleasant surprise."
There's nothing pleasant about the steel in her eyes as she approaches. She's dressed impeccably in a charcoal-gray suit that emphasizes her tall, willowy frame. At sixty-three, Meredith Wolfsbane still commands any room she enters, her alpha mate status evident in every measured step.
Julia's scent of anxiety becomes stronger at my side.
"Mother." I nod in greeting. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"Silverine and I have been friends for decades. It’s only normal that I join in some of the festivities of her granddaughter’s wedding." Her gaze shifts to Julia, assessing her with the cold calculation of a predator. "And you must be the woman my son has been hiding."
“Julia Schroeder.” Julia extends her free hand, her smile professional and warm. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Wolfsbane.”
"Please, call me Meredith." My mother takes Julia's hand, holding it a beat too long. Her nostrils flare subtly as she scents the air between us. "I must say, this is unexpected. I’ve been trying to convince Adrian to take a mate for years now."
Meredith’s smile is cold enough to chill the sun. “And here you are.”
"It happened rather suddenly," Julia says, her voice steady despite the tension radiating from her. "Sometimes the right person just… appears."
“Indeed.” My mother's smile doesn't reach her eyes. “How fortunate for all of us.”
Julia doesn't flinch under my mother's implied accusation.
"I've found timing is everything in both love and business. "
“Sheriff Wolfsbane, Julia.” Silverine approaches, her violet eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Please, join us.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose—” Julia starts.
“We insist.” Meredith cuts in, her steely gaze firmly on me.