Chapter 25 Not Her Wolf
Not Her Wolf
I felt completely empty by the time Lucien pulled into the gravel driveway near his cabin. It had been a silent trip from the Concordian Ward back home, with me stuck in my own thoughts and Lucien remaining silent, as though he understood I needed space after my emotional breakdown.
Once inside, Lucien grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him. His arms enfolded me, and his lips brushed against my forehead in a soft, comforting kiss.
My heart rebelled against my rib cage at the sudden act, and the emptiness within me filled with so much warmth, I had to close my eyes and instinctually lean into him, needing his heat.
His soft kiss, his strong muscular arms around me, holding me close as though I mattered, as if he cared, spoke more than any words could, and I was a little scared I would burst out crying again at the almost painful feelings he brought up inside me.
Thankfully, though, before that happened, Lucien abruptly let me go, giving me a loaded look that made me freeze.
Before he could say or do anything else, a door opened from the corridor’s direction, and Thayer appeared.
He was freshly showered, his too-long hair damp, and he came to a stop when he saw us, glancing between Lucien and me with narrowed eyes and open suspicion.
“Good evening,” he said in a slow, assessing voice.
Lucien stepped back from me and nodded curtly. “Evening. How was your time with Ana?s and Enoch?”
His eye twitched slightly as his jaw ticked, but his voice was calm when he replied, “Enlightening, and very informative.” He paused and looked at me.
Something lit up in his gaze that I couldn’t quite decipher—pride?
—when he added, “Your notes were extremely helpful. More than you could ever realize.”
I flushed at the unexpected compliment. “Really?” I asked in a small voice.
“Yeah,” he murmured, glancing hesitantly at Lucien before returning his eyes to me. “Especially a certain Spellscript you recorded from . . . eight years ago.”
I stilled, and my eyes snapped to Lucien. He sensed my gaze and returned it, his own somewhat inscrutable. “I’ve been meaning to ask Blaise,” he told me in a murmur. “He’s the most well-versed and widely contacted pack member when it comes to the Underearth. What you described . . .”
Swallowing the sudden log in my throat, I merely nodded and gave him a wobbly smile. “Thanks.”
His eyes caught mine in an almost unbreakable hold, and they were filled with so much warmth and other emotions I couldn’t decipher, all I could do was stare, wishing I could get into his head and peel back the layers to reveal what he was really thinking.
The sound of a clearing throat made me jolt, and I looked away to see Thayer glancing between us again, that earlier suspicion still there.
Ignoring his look, Lucien headed toward Thayer. “I’ll go shower,” he murmured, glancing briefly at me before looking at my brother again. “There’s leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
He disappeared into the bathroom a moment later.
Now Thayer and I were alone.
I stared as Thayer walked toward me.
“You told him.”
It was a no-brainer what he was referring to. “Yes,” I said hoarsely.
He paused before me and let out a heavy sigh. “Figures. He’s your boyfriend now, isn’t he?”
My head whipped toward him so fast, it was a wonder my neck didn’t twist. “He’s my what?” I said in a little panicked voice, because I was sure he didn’t just say what I thought he said.
But Thayer folded his arms and arched a brow in disbelief. “Boyfriend,” he repeated, jerking his head back to motion toward where Lucien had just disappeared to. “I’m not blind. I saw the way he looked at you.”
I mouthed his words on repeat, confused, as the panic rose. “You’re wrong,” I said, hugging myself as I dropped my gaze to the floor. “He’s just . . . protective of me.”
“Ah, yes,” he murmured, and his bitter tone made me glance back up at him. He was scowling. “You’re his Eteria, after all.”
My heart rate picked up. “How—”
“They told me earlier today,” he answered, making me clamp my mouth shut. “They said it was something like a binding of souls. That the basis of it is that you were born for him.”
There was doubt but also a certain amount of grimness in his voice that told me everything I needed to know.
Whatever Anais and Enoch told him, they hadn’t mentioned the other part.
The fact that I would never be able to love, or want, another man.
That I quite literally belonged to Lucien.
Otherwise, Thayer wouldn’t have remained so calm and collected.
You’re way too calm about it yourself, too, Drew, a little voice murmured in my head.
And for the first time, I acknowledged it. Because it was right.
I was too calm about having my soul enslaved by Lucien for the rest of my life.
Was it because I trusted Lucien to never use that against me?
Or was it because some part of me suspected everything I felt for Lucien, all the emotions I was desperately trying to suppress, existed in the first place because I was magically forced to feel them?
That thought made a chill go down my spine.
“Drew?”
Thayer’s voice snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts, and if I’d had any sort of appetite before, it all disappeared then and there. So had my appetite for talking to him about anything.
Instead, I felt the urgent need to talk to Lucien.
“No, Lucien isn’t my boyfriend,” I said hastily, “and yet, I’m his Eteria. It’s been a long day, Thayer. I’m going to sleep. Good night.”
Thayer opened his mouth, but I was already striding toward Lucien’s room and, a second later, latching the door shut behind me.
But I never got to speak to Lucien that evening, because the moment I sat down on the bed, exhaustion poured all over me.
I knew I was mentally drained, but I hadn’t realized just how much until I found myself crawling into bed and under the warm duvet, sleep pulling me under before I could even form another thought.
Something fuzzy and fluffy surrounded me. It felt like a cozy, warm cloud, and I snuggled closer to it, shuddering at the embracing heat.
It took me a few more seconds to realize this wasn’t a cloud, and I was no longer dreaming.
Instead, I was wrapped like a pretzel around a giant bronze wolf.
Growing still, I tilted my head back. The wolf was sleeping deeply, wrapped around me like I was around him.
My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the wolf. He was such a majestic creature, so gorgeous and soft, but I knew how deadly he was. That his teeth could rip apart my jugular if he so wanted.
Yet I wasn’t scared of him. Not anymore, at least. Seeing him kill Mack Page had been a shock, and it had taken me a moment to get myself together. But seeing him ripping into Oz, or attacking the assassin with murderous intent, I’d felt nothing but a sense of just retribution.
I couldn’t help but wonder, however, if I could trust my feelings.
What if my being his Eteria influenced the way I viewed him and his actions?
He’d said I would be manipulated into having feelings for him by the Eteria magic, or something like that.
He’d told me I would never feel that way for anyone else. That I was bound to love him only.
Maybe, for that to happen, I needed to have the fear manipulated out of me?
Fisting my hands in his fur, I closed my eyes and rested my head against his neck. I didn’t want to believe that. It didn’t even feel like that. The way I felt toward him couldn’t possibly be influenced by some so-called magic, right?
But could I say that with full confidence? I didn’t think so. Not when being his Eteria effectively meant being forced to love him for the rest of my days.
Did I love him, though? What was it exactly that I was feeling for him, aside from obvious attraction?
And what did he feel about me? Did he even feel anything for me, other than pity and guilt over my Eteria status? If so, why did he sleep in bed with me? Why had he almost kissed me yesterday?
He’d said the Eteria magic only worked on me, but what if he was wrong? What if it worked on him in some way, too, and magically influenced him to be attracted to me?
Because in what universe would someone of Lucien’s caliber find me, a plain woman by all accounts, worthy of his attention?
The wolf shifted slightly, making me raise my gaze to his face again. Arctic-blue eyes pierced mine when they met.
I swallowed hard as my heart stuttered, and slowly, hesitantly, I lifted my hand to caress his head. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch almost like a cat.
Then I felt it.
The fur got sucked into his skin.
His limbs grew longer, firmer.
His snout pulled back, turning into a strong, masculine nose, and lips I longed to taste.
Then, under the duvet covering us both, Lucien shifted into his human form. His naked human form, covered by mouthwatering gold skin.
With his auburn curls spread on the pillow like a bright red halo around his head, his strong, corded arms wrapped around my waist, and his eyes gone soft in the morning light, he looked so otherworldly, my breath caught.
I was about to pull my hand away from his face when he grabbed my wrist and made it stay. “Don’t,” he murmured in a raspy voice, gaze languid as he leaned his bristled cheek into my palm.
Every fiber of my being was attuned to him then, as awe and wonder clouded my brain. Lucien looked like a Greek god straight from Mount Olympus. Untouchable, yet tangible. Far beyond the realm of mere humans, yet still present right here.
And like someone had flipped a switch, a burst of need coiled through my veins, shooting electricity from where he still held my wrist straight to my loins, and heat pooled in my gut.
I wanted him.
So much so that I gasped, snatched my hand away from him, and scooted back, removing myself from his embrace.
Lucien’s gaze hardened as he watched me retreat, but I ignored it as I rolled out of bed, heart beating like a war drum, as I blindly looked for my glasses, which someone, probably Lucien, had placed on the nightstand.
Sliding my glasses up my nose, I cleared my throat, and without looking at him, I announced, “I’m going to make some coffee.”
My hand was on the handle of the door when a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me closer, hard, against a muscular chest. “What’s wrong?” Lucien asked in a sexy murmur that made me shiver uncontrollably.
“Nothing,” I said, my voice strained. “Just thirsty.” For more than just coffee.
He tightened his hold on me. “Are you mad?” he suddenly asked, and I felt his lips at my ear, which made me shudder again, goose bumps rising all over my skin.
“Mad?” I squeaked, tense, as I tried to fight my body’s reaction.
“That I got into bed with you without your permission,” he murmured, and his lips suddenly pressed a kiss to my neck. I gasped again and felt my nipples pebble. “I thought that if you saw your wolf, you would find it easier . . .”
For a long moment, I couldn’t speak. Especially as his lips trailed faint maddening kisses down my throat toward my shoulder. He called himself my wolf. Mine.
But he wasn’t mine.
If anything, I was his. My soul was his. I was his Eteria.
Lucien didn’t belong to me. No matter how much my body wanted him to.
Or my mind.
I knew my place, though. I knew exactly what I was worth, both physically and mentally. I’d been full of confidence once upon a time, thinking I could get anyone I wanted if I just tried hard enough.
That kind of overinflated sense of self-importance had eventually bitten me in the rear.
I was better, smarter, than to fall for someone I had no chance with. I had done that once already—without being magically induced.
But now . . .
“I can’t trust myself around you,” I blurted out, hand tightening on the door handle, turning my knuckles white.
He froze.
Sucking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and said, “You make me feel things, Lucien, and I can’t handle that.”
As if those words were a bucket full of ice, Lucien abruptly let go of me and stepped back, as if I were on fire. “Oh” was all he said, voice dark.
I didn’t turn around. I felt so vulnerable, exposing myself to him with my words, that I wanted to flee the room. But I had to address one last thing before I did, so I forced my feet to stay rooted in place as I gritted out, “You’re not my wolf. I’m your Eteria slave. That’s all there is to it.”
“Slave?” he repeated, and I could imagine his eyes were wide with shock. “Drew—”
But I’d already pulled the door open and gotten out without looking back.
I would be damned if he saw just how desperately I wished my emotions were truly my own.