9. Harper
NINE
HARPER
Harper's body hummed with restless energy as she paced the guest room the next day, her bare feet silent against the polished hardwood floors.
Sleep had been impossible—each time she'd closed her eyes, she saw Dorian's face in the firelight and felt the heat of his mouth claiming hers with devastating precision.
What the hell is wrong with me?
She pressed her palms against her flushed cheeks, trying to ground herself in the present moment.
The kiss had been a mistake—a spectacular, earth-shattering mistake that could destroy everything she'd come here to accomplish.
Harper had built her entire career on professional boundaries, on maintaining emotional distance from clients and their families.
She didn't get involved. She didn't blur lines.
She certainly didn't kiss her teenage client's devastatingly attractive older brother.
But God, the way he'd looked at her.
Like she was salvation and temptation wrapped in one dangerous package. Like he could see straight through every wall she'd constructed around her heart.
Harper caught her reflection in the antique mirror across the room and winced. Her dark hair was tossed from running her hands through it, and her green eyes still too bright with desire she couldn't quite suppress.
Focus, she commanded herself firmly. You're here to treat Lila. Nothing else matters.
But even as she repeated the mantra, that strange pulsing sensation under her skin persisted—a magnetic pull that seemed to orient itself toward wherever Dorian might be.
When she'd heard the front door slam early that morning, the tension in her chest had eased slightly.
At least she wouldn't have to navigate around him today, wouldn't have to pretend that kiss hadn't turned her world completely upside down.
A soft knock interrupted her spiraling thoughts. "Harper?" Lila's voice carried through the heavy wooden door. "Are you ready for our session?"
Harper smoothed her sweater and opened the door to find Lila standing in the hallway, looking more engaged than she had yesterday. The girl's blue-gray eyes held a spark of anticipation that made Harper's heart lift despite her own emotional turmoil.
"I'm ready if you are," Harper said, forcing her professional demeanor back into place. "Would you like to meet in your room again, or somewhere else?"
Lila shifted her weight, glancing toward the grand staircase. "Actually, could we go downstairs? Maybe sit on the porch swing? I need some fresh air."
"That sounds perfect," Harper agreed, grateful for the suggestion. "I could use some fresh air too."
They made their way down the impressive staircase together, Harper's fingers trailing along the smooth banister that she was certain Dorian had crafted himself.
Everything in this estate bore his touch—the careful restoration, the modern updates seamlessly blended with historical charm.
It was beautiful and overwhelming, like the man himself.
The October air was crisp and clean as they settled onto the wooden porch swing, the chains creaking gently under their combined weight.
Mountains stretched endlessly in the distance, their peaks dusted with snow that caught the sunlight like scattered diamonds.
Harper could see why Lila might find peace out here—the view was breathtaking enough to quiet even the most restless thoughts.
"Are you excited about tonight?" Harper asked, studying Lila's profile as the girl gazed out at the forest. "Hanging out with Sophie and Courtney?"
A genuine smile transformed Lila's face, erasing the worry and trauma. "Yes. We're meeting at the diner for burgers and shakes, then going to the boys' basketball game at school." She turned to Harper with obvious relief. "You really won't hover, will you? Like Dorian or Marty would?"
"I promise I'll give you plenty of space to enjoy your friends," Harper assured her. "I remember what it was like to be seventeen and a senior in high school. That was probably my favorite year of school."
Lila's expression dimmed slightly. "I hope this year will be fun, but it's already October and I feel like I've missed out on so many events already. My mental health has made everything complicated."
Harper's chest tightened at the defeated tone in Lila's voice. "There's still plenty of time. Lots of opportunities to make this the best senior year possible."
"You really think so?" Lila's doubt was palpable as she stared off into the distance.
"Hey." Harper's voice gentled. "Just take it one day at a time, okay? There's no pressure. You'll heal on your own timeline, and the important thing is that you're willing to let me help you."
Lila nodded slowly, some of the tension escaping her shoulders. "I was really doubting anyone could help me after six different people couldn't reach me. But you're totally different, Harper. I know this is only our second session, but I actually feel hopeful."
The admission sent warmth spreading through Harper's chest. "That's wonderful to hear. I feel like we have a good connection forming already."
"Yeah, we do." Lila's gaze sharpened suddenly, becoming almost uncomfortably perceptive.
"Do you have a connection forming with my brother too?
I notice the way you two look at each other.
It reminds me of Sophie's parents. They're fated mates, and there's this intensity between them that's just like what I see with you and Dorian. "
Harper's chest tightened. The directness of the question left her feeling exposed, as if this seventeen-year-old girl could see straight through every defense she possessed. Heat crept up her neck as she scrambled for a professional response.
"Dorian and I are certainly getting to know each other," she said carefully, "building a relationship that will help you succeed in therapy. His trust in me as your counselor is important for your healing."
Lila gave her a look that clearly said she wasn't buying the deflection, but Harper quickly redirected before the girl could press further.
"Can we talk about your attack?" Harper asked gently. "Do you feel comfortable explaining what happened so I can better understand your experience? It will help us move forward and process everything more effectively."
Lila took a deep breath, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "Yes, I guess so."
Harper waited patiently, letting the silence stretch until Lila was ready to speak.
"It was three months ago," Lila began, her voice barely a whisper.
"I was home alone. Grandmother Evelyn had left for the evening, and Dorian was out of town on an important job.
I thought everything was fine because it had been for years.
Sure, there had been some conflicts near town, but nothing ever reached the estate. "
Harper nodded encouragingly, her professional training keeping her expression neutral despite the growing knot of dread in her stomach.
"I was just falling asleep when I heard something," Lila continued, her breathing becoming shallow.
"The house was quiet and dark, and then suddenly there was this man in my room.
I'd never experienced anything like that before—I was terrified he would hurt me, assault me.
I'd heard stories about what happened when I was a baby, the night my parents were murdered here. "
Harper's own childhood trauma threatened to bleed through her professional composure. She'd been exactly Lila's age when her stepfather's abuse had escalated, when she'd learned that sometimes the people who were supposed to protect you simply didn't.
"I panicked," Lila whispered, her hand unconsciously moving to her collarbone where Harper could see the edge of a scar beneath her sweater.
"I got out of bed and tried to run, but he caught me.
Pinned me down in the hallway. He was trying to assault me, and he scratched me here.
" She pulled her sweater aside slightly, revealing the scar.
"I thought that was it, that he was going to—" Her voice broke.
Harper leaned forward slightly, offering silent support while fighting her own emotional response. The parallels to her own experience were too close, too raw.
"But then I shifted," Lila continued, strength returning to her voice.
"Into my wolf form. It gave me the time and strength to escape before he could do something horrible.
I ran into the forest and hid there until I saw Dorian's truck pull into the driveway.
Then I shifted back and ran to him—naked and bleeding and terrified. "
"And he's never let you out of his sight since," Harper finished softly.
"Not without constant supervision," Lila confirmed. "Him, Marty, or Grandmother always watching, always worried."
Harper took a moment to process the story, her heart aching for this brave young woman who'd survived something unthinkable.
The clinical part of her mind cataloged the trauma responses, the protective mechanisms, the way Lila's family had reacted with hypervigilance.
But the human part of her—the part that remembered being seventeen and terrified and alone—wanted to wrap Lila in her arms and promise that she was safe now.
"Harper?" Lila's voice cut through her thoughts. "Are you okay?"
Harper cleared her throat, forcing herself back to the present.
"Yes, I'm okay. Thank you for asking and thank you for sharing what happened to you.
" She met Lila's gaze directly. "You were incredibly brave, Lila.
Your quick thinking and strength saved your life.
I want you to remember that—to reinforce those positive thoughts about your own resilience every day. "
Lila's eyes brightened slightly at the praise, some of the shame and fear lifting from her expression.
"Why don't we end here for today?" Harper suggested. "We can go inside and I'll help you get ready for your night out with friends, if you'd like."