Chapter 11 - Arianna
The effects of Tyler’s authoritative command using the prowess of his strict alpha tone linger in the simmering heat pooling between my thighs. It’s a natural result of our mate bond, and I can’t stop my body’s reaction to him despite what logic demands.
Right now, there’s no time to question how I feel after being spoken to in that tone—oozing command and prompting me to follow his instructions.
It's not like I should be questioning his authority when there’s a threat out there, the warning blasting through the hidden speakers around Portland. He only has good intentions, like protecting me and my son from the danger that threatens the Moonshine border.
I should be grateful, but I have a plethora of mixed feelings to deal with when his protectiveness shone through, and I thought it was the hottest thing he's ever done. I shouldn't be feeling this way, thinking this way about him.
All that matters is that he's keeping us safe, and it's what propels me forward, carrying Noah to Tyler's house and following Tyler's instructions.
“Where going, Mama?” Noah asks softly, clutching the white lily he'd kept from Tyler's bouquet.
A pang of longing grips my heart through the urgency of my task as we enter the house and I bolt down the hallway for Tyler’s bedroom.
White lilies…
Those flowers resurfaced every memory I thought I'd buried, even the ones that extended beyond that fateful night when he claimed my body outside the pack den, only to deny the mate bond with me.
We'd been friends. Or, at least, I thought we'd forged a friendship strong enough to withstand time, until he broke my heart.
But the man I befriended at the beginning wasn't the same one who brutally rejected me and broke my heart. I've been catching glimpses of the kind man I fell in love with since returning, but I’m not sure that I can trust him.
I hate him now.
But I saw that soft side again tonight in the graveyard, along with the protective man I wished he'd be for me and our son, and I'm just not sure how to feel anymore.
“We're going to play a game, Noah-kins,” I tell him as I set him on his feet and tend to push Tyler’s bed toward the window. “Hide and go seek. We're going to hide, and Tyler will come find us.”
Noah nods eagerly, oblivious to what’s going on outside, when he clutches my hand as soon as I lift the door leading to the bunker underneath the house.
It's dark and gloomy inside, but I'm careful as I lead Noah down the wooden staircase, lifting the door over our heads to close us inside.
There's a latch on the underside that I use to secure the door, breathing a sigh of momentary relief while silently praying to the Moon Goddess that Tyler is able to take care of whatever it is that crossed our borders.
I can't shake off the feeling that it isn't coincidental, my intuition screaming at me that the thing that crossed the border is the very same thing that’s been after Noah and me.
I'm barely present when Noah speaks to me, only offering short answers to his questions about his grandparents, whose graves we visited tonight. My intuition is raging as if it's trying to tell me something, but I can't make out what it’s trying to say.
Eventually, Noah falls asleep on my lap by the time the siren stops weeping, and I've taken a seat on the staircase. I've got too much going on in my head and in my gut to care about the rest of the bunker, just relieved when I hear a gentle rap on the door above my head.
“Psst… It's me, Tyler…” he whispers, and again I'm reminded that he can't be that bad, after all. He didn't come storming in, and his voice is gentle once again, as if he doesn't want to frighten us.
Taking care not to wake Noah, I stand up and unlock the latch from inside, and Tyler lifts the door, revealing his relieved expression.
He stretches out his arms, offering to take a sleeping Noah, and he carefully lifts him out of my arms and secures him against his chest before offering a hand to help me out.
He doesn't say a word as he immediately turns and takes Noah into the hallway, and follows quietly, watching as he tucks Noah into bed before coming back and gently closing the door behind him.
“I'm so glad you're safe,” Tyler whispers, then suddenly wraps his arms around me.
The warmth of his embrace startles me, and I gasp as my body tenses from the sensations rolling through my nerves, sensations I don't want to have. I can't deny how safe I feel, my eyes closing involuntarily to bask in the feeling of safety.
But as soon as I close my eyes, an image flashes behind my eyelids, shocking me. I gasp as I pull out from Tyler's arms, staring at him with wild disbelief, furrowing my brows.
I just saw my parents’ old cottage…
It happened the moment Tyler hugged me, as if he were the link to the language of my intuition I couldn't understand.
“What happened?” Tyler asks with a frown, and I shake my head.
“What happened out there?” I ask in turn, not wanting to talk about what just happened, what I saw, when I'm not even sure why I saw it.
What's worse is the undeniable pull hanging in the air between Tyler and me—a magnetizing pull that I want to escape.
“It was a rogue, but it's gone now. There's a meeting at the den now to warn everyone to stay vigilant.”
I nod thoughtfully, turning the corner toward the kitchen. “Is it safe to go outside again?”
“Y—yes. Why?” Tyler asks as he follows me to the back door.
“I need to do something…” I respond robotically, unsure what this other pull is—the one that leads me outside.
“Where are you going, Arianna?” Tyler asks from behind me, and I pause to turn around, my vision blurred with the image of the old cottage. “You need to be at the meeting. You're coming with me.”
“No,” is all I say before spinning around and bolting in the opposite direction toward the old cottage on the outskirts of town. Part of the reason for putting distance between us is my conflicting feelings, and if the threat has been dealt with, it's safe enough to go out there.
Another pang of longing grips me when I arrive at the old cottage, longing for those warm arms that felt safe. It'll make it a lot easier to hang onto my hatred for Tyler, which seems to be slipping through my fingers every time I see him bonding with my son.
Our son…
A sliver of guilt passes through me like a shiver, and I suck in a breath through gritted teeth. I shouldn't be feeling guilty about not telling Tyler that Noah is his son. He doesn't deserve the truth. Not when he broke my heart right after we had sex.
I sigh as I stop on the porch, lifting my eyes when I finally dare to face the old cottage.
I'm hit by a flood of memories of growing up with both parents until I was sixteen.
My mother became terminally ill, and my father's own health depleted when he couldn't stand to watch his mate suffering.
The Moon Goddess claimed both their lives, my father following my mother only three months after she died.
The rest of my life in Portland was gloomy and lonely, and I'd backed myself into a shell where grief was my only friend. Brynta stuck around through my darkest days, but even then, something was missing.
I thought I found it when I visited my parents’ graves one night, as I often did when I wanted to avoid socializing with the other pack members. That's when I found Tyler there, yelling at his brother for dying and leaving him to shoulder all the weight of an alpha.
Was that the reason for his rejecting my claim that we were true mates? Was he only set on filling his brother's shoes?
Why does it even matter? The way he's been making efforts has me questioning everything I strongly believed to be true, and I don't like it.
As I push at the door, I know I'll never truly escape how I feel. Remnants of the broken mate bond send flickers of remembrance every time I'm around Tyler, and perhaps it's something I can't truly escape. It just proves the mate bond was real, I wasn't crazy, my intuition wasn't wrong.
Right now, it's that intuition which suddenly pulses through me and pounds in my heart as I step into the old cottage.
The breath that leaves my lips forms a cloud of translucent mist that's visible through the slanted rays of the moonlight resting on my shoulders.
A faint ring thrums through my ears, but it's unlike the siren that has since stopped ringing when we arrived at the cottage, and I glance over my shoulder with the suspicion that whatever caused the alarm was no coincidence at all.
Could it be that whatever was after us in Oakland has followed us to Portland? What is it, and what does it want?
Why can't I shake off the feeling that it's tied to a brief fling I had out there?
As another shiver courses down my spine, I turn back to the inside of the cottage, covering my nose with my arm when I cough because of all the dust. Trying the light switch while I'm inhaling more dust, I flick it up and down a few times, to no avail.
It appears there isn't any electricity being fed to the abandoned cottage, proving that Tyler was right after all.
The place is unlivable, but still I find myself drawn toward the darkness, my inner wolf whimpering as if it's trying to tell me something. But the thick dust hanging in the air is alarming, and I don't want to get sick.
Deciding that there’s no good reason for being here, I'm about to turn to leave when the ringing in my ears cuts off, and my name is called by a distinctly female voice.
But it's not my inner wolf's voice.
I gasp as I turn around, my chest pulling tight as I gaze into the darkness.
It's as if the darkness is curling into smoke that lifts from the ground and travels toward the ceiling, allowing me to see clearly without any light.
My eyes focus on the dusty rug in the living room, and my heart begins to race as if drawing me toward that spot.
Batting my eyelids in disbelief as I stare at the spot, my feet move of their own accord, carrying me back inside, drifting toward the living area, and finding my way to the rug without needing to see where I'm going.
The wooden floorboards croak and cough when I sink to my knees, trusting my intuition to guide me as I peel back a corner of the rug to expose the floorboards underneath, my fingers coasting one rectangular block that appears different from the others.
Its texture is rougher, as if it's been placed on the floor bottom-side up, and as I trace the edges, I can feel how it's slightly lifted from the surface.
Using my nail to dig out the floorboard, as I suspected, it pulls out easily, revealing a dusty blue box that's big enough to fit a pair of shoes. I retrieve the box and place it on my lap, blowing the dust away. Just as I'm about to lift the lid, I hear footsteps outside. It's Tyler.
Replacing the floorboard and straightening out the rug again, I pick up the box as I stand, calmly walking outside to the porch.
I tuck the box behind me as I remain calm and collected, Tyler approaching, visibly furious as his blue eyes shine like crystal depths as he glares at my face.
He's marching forward, fists curled at his sides, but I know I can't let my guard down and have to show a strong, unbothered front, even if my mind is racing with questions about what I just found.
“Alpha, I can ex—”
“Are you crazy?!” He exclaims as he glares at me. “Why did you run off like that?”
“I—I needed to get something from inside.”
Tyler still glares at me. “You need to come with me to the meeting, Arianna.”
“No,” I say firmly, stepping off the porch. “I’m gonna go back and stay with Noah. Your place. It’s safer there, right?”
Tyler appears confused, opening his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again and then nodding. “Right.”
Without another word, I grip the box tightly and jog back to Tyler's house, leaving him as confused as I’m feeling.
Once I’m inside, I go to check on Noah, relieved that he’s still sound asleep in his bed.
In a way, I'm thankful that he's sleeping in a separate room, allowing me to find sanctity in the solitude of the room across the hallway.
I close the door behind me and let out a sigh of relief, but it isn't enough to stop my racing heart.
Feeling Tyler's protectiveness evoked emotions that I thought I'd buried, feelings that I can't ignore.
I take a deep breath, sliding the box under the bed before taking a seat and trying to compose myself.
As much as I want to hide in the throes of sleep so that even when Tyler gets home, I can avoid my undeniable attraction and awkwardness surrounding it, I'm afraid of falling into the clutches of those frightening dreams I've been having.
Since I returned to Portland, they've become more intense, and something happened tonight at my old cottage that demands my attention.
I just can't seem to think straight, feeling like I want to burst out of my skin.
I need to shift. That's the only way I can cool down from the heat that's spreading through my body.
It's my inner wolf begging to be let out, sparked by feeling the touch of her true mate.
It's the most natural response, but it's a ridiculous one, considering that Tyler doesn't deserve my wanton desire when he rejected me so cruelly.
I'll have to go out for a run to clear my head, steady myself, and rebuild the walls that almost crumbled just now.