Chapter 9 - Rosalia
Something had changed in the last week. Ever since Rick had all but told her that if she ran away, he would not stop her, she found herself waking and seeing the walls of her room not as a cage, but simply as walls.
It was a new feeling. Unfamiliar. But not unwelcome.
If she had surprised him by not instantly disappearing into the night, he did not show it.
In fact, he had hardly spoken to her at all since that night.
But somehow, somewhere along the way, his long silences had stopped making her feel like she was teetering on a knife’s edge.
And, to her complete and utter surprise, she found herself growing curious about him.
She hadn’t noticed before how gentle his hands were when he ruffled Eva’s hair.
How his eyebrows would furrow when he was concentrating particularly hard on something he was reading.
How when his eyes tracked around the room, watchful and narrowed, it wasn’t because of her presence.
It was just him and his natural inclination to guard his home.
To watch out for intruders. To protect his family.
Was…was she included in that?
She shook her head. No. No, that was utterly ridiculous. And she would be a fool to hope for such a thing.
And yet, much to her horror, she found herself wondering, alone in bed, staring up at the canopy, hair splayed out on her pillow. What would it be like to be his wife? To actually be his wife, and not just the facade of it?
To be his mate? His equal?
It was a pointless daydream. Utterly self-defeating.
And yet, with each passing day, she felt her mask slipping. Her walls are shrinking. Felt her wolf inside her, puppyish and eager, wanting to break free. Wanting to know him. To let him in.
Perhaps it was Eva’s influence. The girl clearly adored her father, and Rosalia had allowed the girl past her carefully crafted defenses. Perhaps she had planted the seed beyond Rosalia’s ice. She barely knew Rick; it would be only too easy to craft an image of him based on his daughter’s esteem.
But something held her back. At first, she had thought it had been fear, a natural caution around a powerful alpha male.
But in the darkness and safety of her room, she dug deeper.
Faced herself. Came to realize that it wasn’t fear of him holding her back.
It was her own inability that let her true self out.
She had spent so long hiding behind the mask, she had forgotten how to take it off.
How was she supposed to try and build something with someone else when she barely knew herself?
And so, that morning, she rose with the clear intention to try to learn. It was Eva’s birthday, and the whole pack was coming around. Rosalia had spent weeks preparing, making sure everything was perfect, but now she faced the greatest challenge of all.
Actually allowing herself to enjoy it.
The morning passed in a blur of working with the staff to get the decorations up outside, to prepare the food, to make sure every little detail was utterly perfect. Rick had taken Eva to breakfast, just the two of them, allowing Rosalia free rein.
She knew Rick was placing a lot of trust in her. And she was determined to prove to him that she took that seriously.
Fortunately for her, being groomed to be a perfect shifter wife her whole life had prepared her beautifully for the task.
As the pack began to arrive, laughing and smiling and throwing compliments around about the cheerful paper lanterns and lively string quartet, satisfaction settled in her gut.
She had gone for a more traditional celebration, her instincts telling her Rick would appreciate that, and as such, there were a series of arenas roped off.
Some were marked out for racing, some for organized games, and others with elaborate climbing apparatuses assembled, all designed for young shifter children to show off their burgeoning skills.
The lanterns had been imported from Germany, hand-painted with the old myths, and the air was heavy with the scent of the traditional spiced lamb stew.
The one thing she had added was a stage at the bottom of the garden, with a trio of ballerinas switching between performing and teaching dances to the children.
“Oh my God, Rosalia, this is amazing!” Daisy said as she hopped up the stairs to the veranda, where Rosalia watched over the arriving people, Max cradled in her arms.
“Thank you, Daisy, that means a lot,” Rosalia said, offering the other female a genuine smile and accepting her offer of a hug.
Daisy lingered, her arm tightening around her. “Really. I mean it. It’s so lovely to see you here. And you’ve done an amazing job!”
Rosalia’s throat tightened, and she found herself unexpectedly blinking back tears. “Yes, well. Eva deserves it.”
Daisy pulled back. “She’s going to absolutely lose her mind. She and Rick are on the way; they should be here any minute!”
Her stomach swooped at the mention of Rick. She knew Eva would love it; Eva loved anything that involved the pack, but Rick…
She didn’t know what she would do if Rick didn’t like it. She wanted to impress him. Wanted to show him that she…that she was willing. To try.
Felix and Cassie were walking up the steps, Felix barking orders at his twin boys as they whooped and hollered their way straight to the climbing frame.
Nicolas was with them, ferocious pride in his eyes as his eldest daughter, Thea, beat both boys to the rope ladder.
Dane and Lola followed closely behind, Dane helping Lola up the stairs with almost comic attention.
“Welcome,” Rosalia said, snapping into hostess mode, smoothing her dress down. “Can I get anyone a drink?”
Cassie brushed straight past formalities and pulled her into a hug. “This is incredible! Can only the kids go on the climbing frame? I’ve always wanted to go on one of those!”
Rosalia laughed. “The company I rented them from said they can support the weight of a full-grown alpha male, so be my guest!”
“Oh, hell yeah!” Dane grinned. “Bet I can climb up faster than you, Cass!”
“Children,” Nicolas muttered as Cassie stuck her tongue out at Dane.
Felix just grinned and winked at his mate.
As they continued to chatter and laugh, Rosalia’s tension started to melt away, her muscles relaxing, her smile becoming easier. Lighter.
She found herself, rather unexpectedly, having fun as she listened to the banter and the jokes and the clear, easy affection.
They all cared so much about each other. They were a family. A pack. A true pack.
Just as Lola and Nicolas were exchanging playful gripes with each other over their disagreement about the origin of the paper lantern tradition, Rick’s car rolled through the gates beyond the front lawn, winding up the drive towards the house.
Rosalia’s heart tripped over itself, her throat growing tight. He was here. They had arrived.
Daisy seemed to notice her sudden panic and linked their arms, pulling her closer. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, “he’s going to love it.”
Rosalia looked down at her, eyes wide. “That’s not…I don’t…Eva…”
“It’s okay,” she said, “I know how you feel. And no matter what, we think it’s great!”
Lola caught the end of her sentence and nodded seriously, “Your attention to detail on the provenance of the paper for the lanterns is particularly impressive. Germanic mills are the most authentic.”
Rosalia was about to ask how on earth Lola was able to determine the origin of the lanterns when the car door opened, and Eva tumbled out in a ball of caramel curls and explosive excitement.
“OhmygoshohmygoshohmyGOSH!” she said as she barreled into Rosalia’s legs. “Is this all for me?”
Rosalia grinned, her heart twisting. “Yes, Eva, it’s all for you! It’s your birthday!”
“OhmygoshohmygoshohMYGOSH!”
Laughing, Rosalia leant down to embrace her, squeezing her tight. It had been Rick’s idea to take her out for breakfast so that the staff could quickly assemble everything in secrecy, and Rosalia was so glad he had suggested it for the look of sheer joy on Eva’s face.
She wriggled out of Rosalia's arms, scanning the garden, eyes bright. When she spotted the ballerinas in their tutus and point shoes, already teaching a few kids some moves, her mouth fell open.
“Are those real-life ballerinas!? Like at the ballet!?”
“They are indeed,” Rosalia said, “why don’t you go join in?”
Eva didn’t have to be asked twice. She sprinted across the lawn, greeting pack members and other kids as she went, her face practically split open with the wideness of her grin.
Rosalia watched her go, chest overflowing with happiness at the little girl’s delight.
But then the wood of the veranda creaked, and the others turned to look behind her.
Her breath caught in her throat.
She spun around slowly, her heart pounding in her chest, to see Rick standing there looking out over the garden. He was painfully handsome, dressed in a soft blue sweater, dark hair tousled and curling around his ears.
She thought she might faint with nerves.
But then, the harsh planes of his face relaxed, a true grin carving across his mouth, “This is brilliant.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Really?” she squeaked.
His gaze dropped to her, his brown eyes warmer than she’d ever seen, ‘Really. I knew you had arranged for a more traditional celebration, but this is far better than I’d imagined. Where on earth did you find a chef who knows how to actually make lamb Eintopf?”
“I put out an advert in Portland,” she said, breath hitching as she clasped her hands in front of her chest, “she was trained in France. She made the cake too! And I organized green-flame bonfires, they’ll be lit at dusk!”
Rick’s gaze sparkled. “Green-flame bonfires? I haven’t seen one of those since visiting my cousins in Berlin.”
Lola leaned towards Felix, her voice low, “Isn’t that because the traditional chemicals needed to produce the green flames are illegal in America?”