Chapter 13 One Room, Two Beds #2
I glanced at Lucien now and, not for the first time, found it almost fantastical to believe he was a werewolf.
He was so human, even in his wolf form, that comparing him to the mythological beast was almost laughable.
But at the same time, I remembered how his face twisted and contorted into that monstrous inhuman expression.
The sight of him disemboweling another person with a sharp wave of his clawed hand was also still very vivid in my mind.
The deep contrast was staggering, so much so that my fascinated fixation on the supernatural, which had been stronger than my fear, was now overtaken by a sense of terror that hadn’t been there before.
It wasn’t just Lucien either. I thought back to Chase.
How he pretended to be my friend. How he acted as if I was crazy for writing about the supernatural, pretending he wasn’t one of them.
We’d been neighbors for three years now.
I even still remembered the way he’d approached me first when he moved in next door.
How he brought a chocolate cake he claimed to have baked as a greeting.
How wary I was of him, closed off as I was from the world due to my chosen path.
But Chase hadn’t given up. He came every morning with baked goods, making his way into my life, until at one point, I couldn’t take it anymore and invited him in for coffee.
After that, from time to time, we drank coffee together.
I even told him about myself, about my estranged relationship with my family, even the fight I had with Thayer, my older brother, a year ago.
I told him about my feelings. My life. And he shared his own story, too, about his abusive family and how he’d escaped their clutches when he was seventeen.
Thinking about all of it now, it suddenly hit me that everything he’d done, all the things he’d said, the stories he’d told, must’ve been lies to get me to like and trust him as a friend. All so he could keep an eye on me, because I was sticking my nose into the supernatural business.
Had any of it been true?
Something wet and salty hit my lips, and I realized tears had escaped my eyes.
Up until now, I hadn’t had the leisure to think about it all too deeply.
Yet once everything calmed down somewhat, the realization that Chase, the only person in my life I regarded as a friend, was actually manipulating me to get what he needed broke my heart.
The car suddenly came to a stop in an underground parking lot, and before I could ask where we were, a hand suddenly cupped my cheek, a thumb wiping my tears away. “Hey,” Lucien said softly, gently pulling my head to face him. He searched my gaze. “What’s wrong?”
His sincere worry made me cry harder. “He was my friend,” I whispered, the tears falling freely. “Or at least I thought he was. A friend wouldn’t want to erase your memories, memories he knows are extremely important to you, just to protect his own fucking ass.”
Lucien grabbed the back of my head with his free hand and pulled me close, leaning my head against his shoulder.
“You couldn’t have known, Drew,” he said quietly.
“Secret agents who work for the supernatural global governing body, the Council, are fickle and cunning.
People like him are the kind they always hire: magically powerful, heartless, emotional manipulators.
Their mission is to keep the supernatural society a secret from humans.
That is the only driving force behind any action they take.
“I’m so sorry you had that happen to you,” he said, squeezing me tightly to him.
“But please believe me when I say it wasn’t your fault.
You’re not stupid for falling for his lies.
Anyone in your shoes would have—and a lot already did, and will do too.
He’s the one who got you to trust him, and betrayed that very trust.”
I knew he was right. Of course I did. Yet I couldn’t help but mourn the loss of the one friend I had. Mourn my broken trust. Beat myself up over my gullibility.
Distracted by my own overwhelming pain, I barely even registered that his touch brought me only comfort, even though his hands, while clean now, were still covered in blood in my head.
Hotel Reveria was a five-star establishment with the largest lobby known to man. Its posh exterior and interior made me feel as if I’d stepped into a movie scene about high society.
In my faded jeans and baggy band tee, I felt like a fish out of water, but Lucien strolled inside, barefoot and shirtless, as if he owned the place, striding with a confidence and authority that made him, once again, seem like the Alpha I now knew he was.
When two female guests did a literal double take when they saw Lucien approach the front desk, I didn’t blame them. The luster of him in his shirtless glory was a sight to behold. So much so I had to look anywhere but at him, lest I start drooling like the thirsty woman I was.
Now that I was all cried out, especially after him offering me his comfort, I was all too aware of him again.
The man at the front desk welcomed us with a bright smile, his eyes full of awe as he looked at Lucien, to the point he even made a little bowing movement with his head. “Good morning, Mr. Delterre,” the man said.
I glanced at Lucien in confusion, wondering how the man knew him. But Lucien was focused on the man as he said, “Morning to you, too, Finn.”
Finn beamed at him. “Thank you. Would you like the regular?”
Lucien gave Finn a small smile. “The regular is taken, isn’t it?”
Frowning, Finn checked on the computer, and when a hot blush colored his cheeks, I felt bad for him. “Y-You’re right, sir, it is,” he said, clearing his throat. “But there is one of the largest rooms available—”
“We’ll take that,” Lucien said, impatience in his voice. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, on his face. It seemed he had truly reached his wits’ end.
I could relate. I was just as exhausted.
Finn mumbled something as he handed him the key cards, and soon after, we were in the elevator, traveling up to the fortieth floor.
“Do you own the hotel or something?” I asked once we were alone, rubbing my tired, bloodshot, puffy eyes.
Lucien leaned against the elevator wall, watching me closely. “I’m a shareholder.”
“Oh,” I murmured. “Okay, then couldn’t you take two rooms? One for each of us?”
He peered at me with a strange look in his eyes. “Why waste the hotel’s resources when we’re perfectly capable of sharing a room?”
I couldn’t help the blush coloring my face.
“I can think of a few reasons,” I said, shifting from foot to foot in both discomfort and .
. . anticipation. Which was exactly the problem.
“I mean, we’re still a man and a woman, and it’s not like we’re in a rom-com, forced to share the only available room in the hotel . . .”
I was rambling, I knew, but I couldn’t help it.
I felt extremely vulnerable after everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
I also felt about as sexy as though I had been run over by a truck.
The thought of sharing a room with the hottest, sexiest man I’d ever met—yet the same man who was also a werewolf, who could disembowel another person like nothing—made me feel both self-conscious and uneasy.
When Lucien didn’t respond, I chanced a look at his face and saw he’d turned his head, hiding his eyes from me. The elevator didn’t have mirrors, so I couldn’t really see his expression.
I tensed momentarily, then deflated. Right, Drew, I thought bitterly, putting the fact he’s a dangerous man aside, he’s way out of your league. Have you learned nothing from Matteo?
No, it appeared I hadn’t. Punching above my station when it came to men was something I’d always done, but it had gotten worse after Matteo, ironically enough.
Any sort of heat I might’ve felt disappeared, and only nerves remained. Nerves about sharing a room with a half man, half beast I was attracted to and somehow inherently trusted, yet was also wary of. The mix of contradicting emotions both tired and confused me.
Silence lingered between us until we reached our floor and continued to linger as we walked through the spacious, expensive-looking hallway toward our room. Once we entered, however, and I saw that there were two double beds, I realized why Lucien had said nothing before.
“Oh” was all I said as Lucien put my duffel bag on the bed closer to the wall. “So, it’s this kind of room.”
Lucien shot me a wry smile. “Disappointed?”
I fought another blush, because this was getting ridiculous, and glared at him. “No, I’m just relieved I don’t have to share a bed with a man I barely know.”
That wasn’t a complete lie, especially considering everything I was feeling toward the man. But if there had been only one bed . . . and Lucien was someone who could be attracted to me . . . in my current state, I would’ve jumped his bones easily.
If only to distract myself from my own emotional turmoil.
But Lucien wasn’t the type to want someone like me, and it wasn’t about me lacking confidence.
I knew what I was worth, but I was also realistic, and this world—both human and supernatural, I assumed—ran on beauty standards.
Within those standards, I was scraping for six out of ten, while Lucien was, like, a hundred or something. The gap was far too big.
Pretty people were attracted to pretty people. That was the unofficial law. And people who looked like Lucien would never find someone like me worthy to look at. That was me being self-aware rather than anything else.
There was also the fact he was a werewolf and I was human, which might also play a part. I couldn’t imagine being attracted to a human when the beautiful succubi existed.
The reality check made my shoulders slump. “Want to shower first?” I asked now, not wanting to think any more about any of this.
Unaware of my trail of thoughts, Lucien shook his head and said, “Ladies first.”