4. Lucas
4
LUCAS
E very scent in this house is a comfort. The bathroom has hints of Silver’s cologne and the thick blanket he gave me from his own bedroom has the distinctive musk that’s 100% him. The guest room he lets me sleep in whispers of family visits. Coin’s scent is on the pillow, and the sheets smell like Ruby’s favorite lotion.
I promised myself I’d be strong if I came here and not get swept up in how wonderful Silver is. But I inhale each scent longer than I should, savoring how safe I feel in this place. The large bed with its four pillows and soft sheets is so different from the mattress on the floor at home. For the first time in months, I fall asleep easily.
When I wake the next morning, there’s a moment when I forget about what happened last night. I forget about the fight with Daryl and the way he struck me across the face, even though he promised he would never hit me while I was pregnant. I forget about running away with nothing but the clothes on my back and my phone. I even forget about using Daryl’s Uber account to get a ride to Silver’s neighborhood. I open my eyes, fully expecting to be in our tiny bedroom with Daryl asleep at my side.
Silver’s guest room is bright and big with some of the picture frames from his moms’ home hanging on the walls. Photos of his brothers grinning at the camera remind me why I came here in the first place. Silver has always been more than an ex-boyfriend to me.
Once upon a time, he was my home.
I slowly sit up and get out my phone. There are twenty calls from Daryl and a long string of messages. As I scroll through them, reality comes flooding back.
I’m sorry. I lost my temper. Please come home.
Where are you?
This isn’t funny, Lucas. Get back here.
You’re starting to scare me. Answer my calls.
Call me back. It’s two in the morning.
WHERE ARE YOU?
Look, I know I messed up, but this is starting to get ridiculous.
Call me back.
Please call me.
A knot of dread forms in my stomach. If I go back to Daryl, I know he’ll forgive me. I’ve certainly done it before. The first time he hit me, I stayed at a motel for a full week before I went back. I promised myself that I would never let an alpha treat me the way my father had.
But it turns out that motel rooms cost more money than a server at a diner can afford, and going to a shelter was a lot scarier than what Daryl might do to me. So I returned to our apartment and said my apologies. Things got better for a few months, and then he did it again. During the first year, I walked out every time it happened. But after a while, it was easier to skip the threatening-to-leave stage. I knew I wasn’t really going to do it. At least not longer than a few days. I had nowhere to go and no way to make it on my own.
What is my plan here? Last night, I was so certain that I couldn’t stay if Daryl was going to hit the kids, too. That’s what he did when he hit me so hard I fell down onto my stomach. The flurry of kicking in my womb while I laid there on the floor scared me. Did he hurt them? Would some part of their brains remember that pain?
Would my children grow up fearing their alpha dad as much as I feared mine?
I can’t go back. I don’t know what I’m going to do, I just know that I won’t put my pups through that. I hide my phone under the pillow without responding to Daryl.
My stomach rumbles with hunger. First, I’ll get something to eat, then I can figure out a plan.
I wander out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Silver is sitting at the kitchen table, typing on a laptop. At some point, he swapped out his pajama pants for white-washed jeans and a T-shirt that hugs his biceps and pecs in all the right ways. I feel a little guilty for how much I enjoy looking at him. Technically, I’m a bonded man.
Maybe that doesn’t matter once your alpha hits you. I don’t know.
“Um, hi,” I say awkwardly.
He looks up at me and smiles. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Good. Thank you.”
He stands. “I haven’t had breakfast yet. How about I make us some pancakes? I could whip up my mom’s buckwheat pancakes that you like so much.”
I make those pancakes for myself on days when I feel lonely. They remind me of sleepovers with Silver and his brothers, and being allowed to eat until I was full.
“I could make them, if you like,” I suggest. “Maybe I could cook and clean for you in exchange for staying here. I know it isn’t much?—”
He shakes his head. “Absolutely not. Your feet are swollen. Why don’t you sit down and put them up?”
I glance down at my feet. They’re almost twice their normal size.
“I’m sorry?—”
“Lucas, it’s okay. You came here for help, right? I want to help you, and I don’t mind cooking.” He pulls out a chair and gestures to it.
I sit down in the chair reluctantly. How will I work with feet this swollen? I had a hard enough time holding down my job with all the throwing up I did in the first trimester, but at least I could still walk.
Silver pulls out the chair next to it and pats the seat. “For your poor feet.”
I lift one foot, then the other. I hate the way Silver winces at their size. There was a time when he looked at my body like I was the most beautiful thing in the world.
Silver walks over to the kitchen and starts grabbing ingredients from the cupboard. “My boss said I could telework for the next few days. I still have a lot to do, but at least I’ll be around. I figured we could go shopping tonight after I get off. You’re welcome to wear one of my shirts until then. It won’t fit well, but at least it’s clean.”
Wolf shifters often wear their mate’s clothing in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. It’s the smell. We like being reminded of our lover while we go about our day. It’s completely inappropriate for me to wear another alpha’s clothing, though. Kissing Silver would probably be less intimate than that. But the idea of being surrounded by Silver’s scent is so wonderful, I know I won’t tell him no.
It’s only until tonight when we can buy something else.
“Thank you,” I say softly. “I’ll pay you back when I find a job?—”
“No way. You don’t owe me a cent okay? And no rush on getting a job. I can take care of the expenses for now. You said you’re six months along, right? You could stay with me until the pups come, and then start looking for work once they’re six or seven months old.”
That would mean staying here for nine or ten months before I started looking for work.“I couldn’t impose on you like that,” I say.
He looks away from me. “What if it wouldn’t be an imposition?”
“What are you talking about? You’re spending money on me and cooking for me.”
“I just mean, what if I want you here?” he asks, meeting my gaze again. “What if I missed you?”
He missed me? It’s been five long years since we were together, and here he is, living in a big, beautiful house with a good job. Why would it even occur to him to miss me?
“I’m bonded to Daryl,” I remind him and myself. Especially myself.
He drags a hand through his short hair. “Do you still want to be?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“There are ways to remove a bond,” he says.
I hold back a bitter laugh. “I can’t afford a warlock, Silver. You know that.”
“A warlock isn’t the only way.” He watches me closely, as if he’s waiting for some kind of reaction. I have no idea what he’s talking about. If there was an easy way to remove a bond, half the wolf shifters in Texas would do it. Hating our fated mates is something we pass down generation to generation, like poverty.
“Like what?” I finally ask, when it becomes clear he isn’t going to volunteer the information on his own.
He swallows hard. “My paws. I could break your bond if I put my paws on you.”
He means claim me as his mate.
The enormity of what he’s offering makes me speechless. He’s always been kind, but that’s on another level.
“No,” I say so quietly, I’m not sure he heard. I’m not even sure I want him to hear. It wouldn’t be fair to let Silver sacrifice his own chance at a happy future to save me. But a small part of me wants to let him.
If only I was selfish enough to ignore what it would cost him.