Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
the cover-up
IVER
“So where is this place, again?” Chey asks from the passenger seat as I navigate the winding forest road that connects the six-pack territories.
“Norbury,” I reply. “Close to that Mexican restaurant we went to with Lo and Javi, if you wanna grab some food after.”
She shrugs, kicking her feet up on the dashboard. “I’m not that hungry, but I wouldn’t turn down another one of their margaritas,” she muses, flickering me a side-eyed glance as she twirls a golden strand of hair around her finger. “Or we could just do tequila shots.”
My face screws up in a grimace. “How about I just puke instead, cut out the middleman?”
Chey barks a laugh, reaching across the center console to rest a hand on my forearm. “Fine, you can have a beer. And I’ll do my best not to have a panic attack in the bathroom this time.”
“I’ll try not to go in for any unsolicited hugs,” I vow, winking.
She rolls her eyes with a soft giggle.
I’m glad we’ve gotten to the point where we can laugh about these things. As rocky and uncertain as this all felt at the start, we’ve hit a stride of comfortable familiarity with one another. It feels good to finally just relax and be ourselves.
I ease my foot down onto the brake as we come up to the turn-off for Norbury, hanging a left to enter the territory.
This is Alpha Chase’s neck of the woods, and his Beta just happens to be the best tattoo artist in the entire six-pack alliance.
I’ve been meaning to make an appointment to get the shading on my chest piece touched up, but something Chey said the other day gave me a reason to finally book one.
‘I hate looking in the mirror and seeing that mark.’
“This shouldn’t even take an hour, but I reserved two just in case you wanted to get something done,” I say when we hit the edge of town, glancing over at Chey tentatively.
“I still stand by what I said before, that your scars are beautiful, but if you don’t like looking at them…
well, Cal is a really talented artist, and he does great cover-up work. ”
She blinks back at me, pursing her lips while I hold my breath for her reply.
This is a tough topic to broach. I don’t want her to think I’ve got a problem with her scars, because I never have.
By virtue of them being on her body, they’re beautiful in my eyes, just like her.
The problem is, I can’t seem to get Chey to see herself the way I do.
The thought of her hating her own reflection kills me, so I’ve been racking my brain for the past few days to come up with some way I can fix it.
If she doesn’t want my mark to cover that one, then maybe she’ll go for a tattoo.
“Does it hurt?” she questions, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
“What, a tattoo?”
She dips her chin in a nod.
“It depends on your pain tolerance,” I murmur, quickly realizing that this may not have been a great idea.
If pain is one of her triggers, the burn of the tattoo needle could send her spiraling into a panic.
“Liquid silver has to be added to the ink, to get around the whole rapid healing thing,” I say.
“It burns, but it’s not unbearable. And if you can get past the first few minutes, you start to become numb to it. ”
Chey nods slowly, her brows drawing together as she seemingly thinks it over.
“It’s completely up to you, and you don’t have to decide now,” I reassure. “I just wanted you to know it’s an option.”
She chews on her lower lip again, dropping her gaze to her lap as I swing into the small parking lot in front of The Muse.
Cal Conway named his tattoo studio for his mate, the logo on the awning a pencil drawing of her profile.
Claiming a spot and shifting the gear into park, I look over at Chey, struggling to read her expression as she gazes out the windshield at the tattoo shop.
“Hey, are you…”
“I think I wanna do it,” she interrupts, snapping her head in my direction.
My brows shoot up. “Yeah?”
Her amber eyes burn with determination as her lips curve into a smile. “Yeah. I don’t know why I never thought of it myself, a cover-up tattoo makes so much sense.”
I blow out a breath, shoulders slumping as the tension drains from my muscles.
Chey twists to face me, reaching across the center console to cup my jaw. “Thank you,” she whispers, leaning in to smack a kiss against my lips.
I grin as she pulls back, feeling like a million bucks.
The two of us hop out of the truck and head in, the bell above the door chiming as we enter. Ace Conway looks up from behind the computer screen at the front desk, the two of us making eye contact as I usher Chey inside.
“Hey, since when do you work here?” I ask, pleasantly surprised to see him.
“Since the squad delayed training camp,” he grumbles, popping his ear buds out. “Any word on that, by the way?”
I wince, stabbing my fingers through my hair. “Sorry, bro, it’s still up in the air. Gotta keep our focus on the hunters.”
“Yeah, I get it,” he sighs as he leans back and cracks his knuckles, shifting his gaze to Chey. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your new mate?” he asks with a teasing wag of his brows.
I can’t help but crack a smile as I turn to Chey. “This is Ace,” I tell her, throwing a thumb in his direction. “Ace, this is Chey.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ace rumbles, dipping his head respectfully.
“Likewise,” Chey smiles.
“So are you just working the front desk, or are you tattooing?” I ask as I turn back toward Ace.
“He’s still learning,” Cal cuts in as he steps out from curtain separating the back of the tattoo shop from the front, greeting me with a nod. “All ready whenever you are, Iver.”
“Cal, this is my mate, Chey,” I announce proudly, brushing the back of my hand against hers. She immediately picks up on my signal, curling her hand around mine and threading our fingers together.
A grin teases the corner of Cal’s mouth. “Mate, huh?” he asks, swiping a hand over his chin. “Now that you mention it, I remember hearing something about that.”
I snort a laugh, shaking my head. We both know how quickly word travels throughout the six-pack territory. Especially when an Alpha finds his fated mate.
“Nice to meet you, Chey,” Cal murmurs as he shifts his attention to her. “Are you here for ink, too, or just moral support?”
“Both,” she replies.
“Right on,” Cal remarks, gesturing for us to follow as he turns to step back through the curtain.
I toss up a wave to Ace as Chey and I follow Cal to the back of the shop, where I quickly strip off my shirt and lay down on the padded table.
Within minutes, Cal is bent over my chest with his tattoo gun in hand, the gentle buzz of the machine mingling with the music playing from the stereo in the corner.
Chey watches with rapt attention as he drags the needle over my skin, the sting of the silver in the ink singeing my veins.
“So do you have a design in mind?” Cal asks her, making idle conversation as he deepens the shading on my existing tattoo.
“Actually, yeah,” she replies breathily, eyes still fixated on the tattoo gun. “I saw a picture of a tattoo once, a landscape that looked like watercolor paint.”
“I’ve done a few of those,” Cal murmurs.
Chey’s amber eyes brighten with excitement. “Really?” she asks, blinking those long lashes. “Could you do a little watercolor scene of the night sky?”
“Mhmm,” Cal hums. “I’ll draw something up as soon as I’m done with this, and then we can go from there.”
She nods eagerly, shifting her attention back to the tattoo on my chest. Twenty minutes later, Cal is flicking his gun off and wiping away the excess ink, announcing that he’s all finished.
I curl up to sit, slipping my t-shirt back on as Cal cleans up. “You ready?” I ask Chey, taking in the way her body is coiled tightly with anticipation.
“Definitely,” she says with an emphatic nod. “I know exactly what I want.”
“Then c’mon over, and I’ll draw it up,” Cal says as he pushes up from his stool, turning on a heel and waving for Chey to follow him.
I hang back as she goes to join him at his desk, glancing around at the art displayed on the walls while I give the two of them space to work.
Most of the frames contain sketches, all depicting Vanessa Diaz-Conway, Cal’s mate and muse.
This entire shop is like a shrine to her.
I used to find it weirdly obsessive, but now that I’ve got a mate of my own… yeah, I get it.
“Hop up, Iver,” Cal barks as he and Chey return, directing her to take my place on the table and lie down. The three of us chat as he gets all set up, and I take a seat on Chey’s opposite side, taking her hand and lending my support.
She flinches at the buzz of the tattoo gun when he turns it on and I take her hand, raising it to press my lips against her knuckles. “If it hurts, you can stop,” I remind her.
She shakes her head determinedly. “I’m no stranger to pain. I’ve got this.”
“You do,” I growl, pressing another kiss to her knuckles.
Chey flinches at the first touch of the needle to her skin, but it doesn’t elicit a visceral reaction.
To the contrary, she sinks into it remarkably fast, a relaxed expression coming over her face as she grows accustomed to the sensation.
I rest my chin on the edge of the padded bench, the two of us staring into each other’s eyes while Cal creates art on her skin.
I check in with her every few minutes, but she takes it like a champ, never complaining or even wincing at the sting of the liquid silver.
It doesn’t even occur to me that I never got to see the design they came up with until Cal announces that he’s finished, flicking off his tattoo gun and sitting back with a satisfied smile.
“Can I see it?” Chey asks eagerly, pressing up on her palms.
Cal reaches behind him for a hand mirror, passing it over to her. I watch as she lifts it in front of her face, a gorgeous smile coming to her lips.
“What do you think?” she asks, twisting toward me. “I wanted it to mean something, so I took the worst moment of my life and covered it with the best.”
My pulse skips as I drop my gaze to the junction of her neck and shoulder, taking in her fresh ink. It’s a splash of the night sky in watercolor ink, the full moon shining bright and stars twinkling around it.
It’s the night we met.
A growl rumbles in my chest as I reach up to cup her face in a hand, drawing her in closer. “I love it,” I say, holding her gaze. “And I love you, Chey.”
Her breath hitches, amber eyes widening.
Then her lips part, speaking the greatest words I’ve ever heard.
“I love you too, Iver.”