Chapter 8 - Rick #2
But he needed her to know she was safe. That she was his responsibility, and he took that seriously, no matter his feelings about the circumstances of their union.
He needed his brothers to know that, also.
But Nicolas was standing across from him, ice-blue eyes narrowed, and for a brief, wild moment, Rick seriously thought he would throw an accusation. That things would get ugly.
After witnessing the things his own father had done, it was no surprise that Nicolas was especially protective of females. Felix and Dane as well.
Rick was less discerning. His pack earned his protection. Any threat to his pack, female or otherwise, would be dealt with. Perhaps that was why his brothers seemed cautious.
He exhaled sharply through his nose, relaxing his stance, showing Nicolas that he would not fight.
“It’s Eva’s birthday next week,” he said.
“She and Rosalia have grown close. I know that Rosalia wants to help with organizing it. Perhaps it would be a good opportunity for the pack to visit and for her to mingle with them.”
Felix’s eyebrows rose slightly. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, actually. Give her a chance to see what the Iron Walkers are truly like.”
“And I can talk to Lola,” Rick added, turning to Dane. “If she did agree to be an advisor in the inner circle, we’d be working very closely together. She’s far too intelligent to allow petty insecurities to hold her back.”
Dane nodded slowly. “Only if I’m there as well.”
Rick didn’t argue. Lola was heavily pregnant, and Dane’s instincts were getting harder and harder for him to push away.
Nicolas had been the same when Daisy was due to give birth to Max.
Hell, Rick couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been overly possessive of her. Daisy was so gentle for a shifter.
Rick had never felt like that about a female. But he knew it was in his very nature. Perhaps that’s why he had been so guarded for so long; if he did claim a female as his own, it would likely consume him, especially if she was as soft and sweet as Daisy.
Then again, he suspected he would need a female with a little bit more bite. A wildness to her, a savagery. An acceptance of her own nature as a shifter.
Rather against his will, his thoughts turned to Rosalia. To the flashes of the wolf he had seen in her, like when she stood between Eva and her father. He couldn’t be certain, but the potential was there. There was a whole world beneath the icy manners she used to keep others out.
He wondered what it would be like. To claim a female capable of the same ferociousness as he was, and have her willingly submit to him. Accept his protectiveness, his possessiveness, even though she was more than capable of standing on her own two feet.
How exhilarating it would be.
He thought of Rosalia, of her head held high as she met him at the altar. How despite her fear, she was capable of so much more.
Dane cleared his throat, and Rick snapped out of his thoughts with a blink.
“All good there?”
“Yes,” Rick ground out, his mood darkening, “I think I’ll retire now, if it’s all the same to you. Another time for that drink?”
Dane nodded slowly. “Sounds good. Give my love to Eva.”
As Rick said his goodbyes and climbed into his car, his muscles tense against the inevitable unease that would greet him at home, he fought to turn his mind away from Rosalia.
She didn’t want anything to do with him. That much was clear. And he would not touch a female who so obviously feared him.
For now, they would be stuck in their cool detachment.
And that was fine.
***
When he got home, he was careful to open the door quietly. To move with slow, measured steps, so at odds with the irritation that had been bubbling in his chest ever since the pack meeting and Felix’s insistence that they stay out of any direct fights with the Black Claws.
Perhaps it was his wolf trying to prove he was no threat.
But inevitably, his adeptness at silent tracking proved to be his undoing as he followed the soft sounds of music and laughter coming from the library.
Neither Rosalia nor Eva had seemed to hear him arrive home.
He paused outside the library, one hand ready to push the door open. It was warm beneath his palm, no doubt a result of the crackling fire lit within. Golden light spilled out from the crack as he nudged the oak further open, glowing in the darkness of the rest of the house.
Something stopped him.
Eva and Rosalia were talking in low, friendly tones.
Ever since Rosalia had decided to come out of her bedroom a few weeks ago, the two had become closer and closer.
Eva spoke about her with excitement and something close to reverence whenever he asked her about her day, and Rick ignored whatever it was that tightened in his chest at her clear adoration.
He was glad they got on well. For Eva’s sake. That was it.
“—want to be a ballet dancer when I grow up,” Eva said, lisping slightly.
“I’m not surprised,” Rosalia replied, “you’re so good at it!”
Rick’s eyes widened at the warmth in her voice, his eyebrows drawing together into a small frown.
She sounded so different. So caring. Nothing at all like the usual frosty, clipped tones she used with him.
His jaw clenched.
“Not as good as you!” Eva said brightly. “Did you want to be a ballet dancer when you were little?”
Rosalia laughed, pure and sweet and real, rich as honey.
“No, I didn’t want to be a ballet dancer. I enjoyed it, sure, but I don’t think my father would have approved.”
Although her words were said lightly, Rick could hear the yearning in them.
Damn, John Heath.
“Papa thinks I’m too clever to be a ballet dancer,” Eva said. “He wants me to join the pack. Do a job like his.”
Rick smiled with pride. Damn right. Eva was a Reinhardt. She had far too much potential to do anything else than be a leader.
“And how do you feel about that?” Rosalia asked.
Rick waited for Eva to speak, to tell Rosalia all about her excellent grades, her fluency in French and German, her excitement about the pack. His daughter had achieved more at the age of five than most did in an entire lifetime.
“I…” Eva said, her voice full of a hesitation that made Rick draw up short. “I don’t know…I…I love the pack. And I want Papa to be proud of me, but…”
There was a rustling, as if Rosalia had leaned forward to embrace Eva, “It’s okay if you don’t know what you want to do yet,” she said, her voice soothing, “I’m sure that no matter what, your papa will be very proud of you. He already is very proud of you.”
“He is?” Eva asked, and the hope in her voice made something tight and uncomfortable clench in his chest.
“Of course he is,” Rosalia said, “you’re very lucky to have a papa like him.”
Rick swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
“What about your papa?” Eva asked, a hint of questioning in her voice.
Rosalia laughed, but it was tighter than before, shot through with anxiety. “Oh, my papa is very different from yours. Did you know I once tried to run away?”
“Really?” Eva asked with an amazement that nearly made Rick chuckle.
“Yep,” Rosalia said, her voice turning decidedly cheeky. Rick blinked. Who the hell was this woman? “My bedroom window looked out into the woods. I used to sneak out at night once I was able to shift and play in the woods. One day, I had an…argument with my father.”
The pause made Rick’s blood begin to heat. Somehow, he highly doubted that it was an argument. Certainly not in the sense that an argument involved two equal participants.
“I went out to the woods, and I was so angry that I ripped a tree apart!”
“You ripped a tree apart?”
“Just a small one,” Rosalia said, and Rick could hear the smile in her voice.
“It was the first time I’d ever felt…powerful.
I didn’t want it to stop. So I ran further into the woods.
Further than I’d ever been. And I thought to myself, this might not be so bad.
I can live out here, in the woods, as a wolf.
I can explore the whole world. I don’t need anybody else. I can be free…”
Her voice drifted off, and Rick’s hand flexed against the wood of the door. He should walk in. Announce himself. Rosalia was sharing this with Eva, not him. She wouldn’t want him knowing this about her.
But he stood, rooted to the spot, unable to bring himself to disturb them.
He had known. Of course, he had known that there was more to his wife. That she hid so much of herself away from him. And selfishly, he wanted to see. Wanted to know her. Wanted her to trust him enough to reveal her true self.
But for now, this small stolen glimpse was enough.
“What happened next?” Eva asked in awe, and Rick exhaled. No doubt his daughter was imagining woodland adventures and exciting quests. Such was the world he kept her sheltered in.
“My father found me and brought me home. He was so cross with me! Oh, but…only because he was worried, of course,” Rosalia said with a laugh just playful enough to fool his daughter. To keep her in childish innocence.
But Rick heard the pain beneath. Could read between the lines. This had been no playful excursion into the woods. This had been a genuine attempt at escape.
And he had no doubt at all that Heath would have made his daughter pay for such an attempt.
His blood did rise then, in sheer fury that took him by surprise, and he knew he would no longer be able to remain concealed. Rosalia would smell his anger.
And no doubt believe it aimed at her.
He shoved the door open and stalked inside, grinding as Rosalia jumped away from him as if he were the grim reaper. Eva looked up in shock, concern etched across her face. “Papa! When did you get home?”
“Bedtime,” he said curtly to her. She nodded, exchanging a worried glance between them before dutifully saying goodnight to Rosalia and trotting towards him. He ruffled her hair, offering her a small smile before she scampered off up the stairs.
Rosalia had stood on shaky legs, her panic held back by the hasty mask she had slammed over her face.
She certainly looked the part, with her immaculate hair and makeup, her elegant dress.
Rick fought to keep the memory of her naked torso from flashing through his mind.
Her body was not his to think about, to lust over.
No matter what his primal nature urged him.
She looked beautiful tonight, in the soft glow of the fire.
Pristine and delicate. Every inch the noble, beautiful shifter.
She couldn’t hide her anxiety, however. Her fingers twisted over each other, and her scent had exploded outwards. It stuck in the back of Rick’s throat, sharp and bitter.
His mood soured even further. How long would he have to pay for John Heath’s cruelty?
“I apologize,” Rosalia said curtly. “I…I don’t know how much you heard, but I assure you I have no intention of leading your daughter astray.”
Rick folded his arms, considering her as she attempted to make herself small, insignificant. Unthreatening.
Where was the female who apparently tore a tree apart in anger? He wanted that female. Not this cowering, scared little mouse.
“I believe you,” he said, his own voice clipped and tense.
God, what was he supposed to say? What words could he possibly use to put her at ease? It was not in his nature to be reassuring, and he feared any attempt to do so would just come across as false. Manipulating.
So instead, he was forced to sound like an unfeeling, uncaring asshole.
She nodded, looking down at her feet, her breathing coming in short and sharp.
“Rosalia,” he said, wincing at how formal he sounded. This wasn’t a fucking Accord meeting, for Christ’s sake.
“Yes?” she replied quickly, glancing up, eyes wide.
“I…” his voice trailed off, a muscle in his jaw working. “How are preparations for Eva’s birthday going?”
She blinked, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “They’re going very well, thank you. Everything is lined up. If you have anything you want, any changes made, then I—”
“No, no,” he replied, “I trust you to prepare things as they should be.”
She nodded, looking down at her feet.
Suddenly, Rick felt very, very tired.
“You may go to bed,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.
“Thank you, sir.”
There it was again. Sir. She really needed to stop calling him that.
But he didn’t speak. Didn’t want to keep her trapped in conversation any longer.
But as she brushed past him as quickly as her self-imposed restraint allowed her, he found himself turning, speaking her name.
“Rosalia.”
She stopped short, muscles tense, and turned to face him. “Yes?”
He swallowed, fists clenching at his sides. “If…if you ever find yourself in the woods at night. Whether it’s to shift or to…to do what you want to do…I would just ask that you go south. Or west. Don’t go north.”
He was surprised at the words as he spoke them. Surprised at what he was offering her. But he found himself resolute.
Perhaps allowing her to go was all he could do to show her she was truly safe here.
“North?” she asked, her voice small.
“It’s Black Claws territory,” he said, looking past her into the hall, hands behind his back, “not safe at the best of times.”
Her lips parted slightly, and he pretended it didn’t have an effect on him. “And…and you wouldn’t…try to find me?”
He glanced back at her, finding his breath stolen at the look in her eyes. Fierce. Hopeful.
Real.
“I would only ensure your safety in our territory,” he said after a moment, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I would not stop you.”
She stood up slightly straighter, suddenly owning the space she stood in, and when she spoke to him, for the first time, her words seemed like her own. “Thank you, Rick.”
And then she turned and disappeared up the stairs, leaving Rick staring at the spot she had been standing in, well beyond darkness falling.