Chapter 10 - Hunter
Passing my time by exploring Scarborough, I notice that many houses are quiet while the members of the pack have traveled out of town for work and school.
Still, some remain in the pack territory, tending to the smooth running of the town.
Shadow Fang seems to be running independently, much like Tyler's and Dominic's packs, with the addition of allowing the members to mingle with the outside world, provided they keep their wolf identities hidden from humans.
The werewolves know their place and bow to Alpha Gabriel with the esteemed honor he naturally demands.
As I walk through the main square, passing by the library, I see Delilah crossing the street at the top, and I slow down, sticking to the shadows on the sidewalk so she doesn't see me.
After our conversation this morning in which she made it abundantly clear that our relationship means nothing when we're behind closed doors, I feel reluctant to go anywhere near her.
It would probably be a good idea to flaunt our fake relationship to her pack to sell it, but I can't help but feel like I'm failing.
My hands curl into fists at my sides as I'm reminded why I proposed marriage in the first place. I have ulterior motives; my inner wolf no longer succumbs to the inhibitions that kept me back from pursuing something real with Delilah.
I may have thought I wasn't capable of keeping her safe, but this giant leap of marriage proved that I did the right thing by saving her from marrying the prince.
It's also shown me that my inner wolf is commanded by the fated mate bond I've tried to deny in the past. But it's why I feel like I'm failing when Delilah keeps pushing me away.
“Excuse me…” a gentle female voice calls from behind, and I turn to find an elderly woman squinting her eyes at me from behind thick eyeglasses, scratching her head to unravel strands of curls from her messy bun. “I saw you standing over there looking lost. You wanna come inside?”
I grin nervously. “I don't read books,” I admit sheepishly, and the woman steps forward, regarding me with narrowed eyes.
“Ah…I know who you are!” she suddenly beams from ear to ear. “You're Miss Delilah's new husband!”
“Y—yes,” I say as I rub the back of my neck, staring down at the tiny woman with a gentle smile. She radiates a pleasant energy that reminds me of someone I knew when I was a child.
“Ah…very handsome…” she praises with a short nod. “Miss Delilah has done well. You better treat her right,” she warns with a pointed finger between my eyes.
“Of course,” I assure her, glancing at the building Delilah has just entered. “What's that place?”
“The pack's community center,” the woman reveals. “It's where most of the elderly work, to keep their time occupied and make them feel useful around here. Miss Delilah has a soft spot for them, always helping where she can. We missed her while she was gone.”
My lips curl into a proud smile as I see Delilah passing by a window in the pack center and greeting one of the elderly members with a warm hug. Again, Delilah doesn't fail to surprise me, and she might have good reason to be cold toward me, but she has the biggest heart.
She's special, and she deserves to be treated that way.
“I think I might have something that will pique your interest and get you to read,” the woman says, prompting me to turn with a frown, only to see her slipping back into the library. She comes out a few seconds later and pushes a hardcover book toward me.
“What is this?” I ask, taking the book and reading the title. “The Secret Society?”
“It's a book that depicts Luna Layla's origins of magic, the same magic she passed onto her daughter, Delilah.”
“Oh…will this give me more insight into my wife?”
“Yes,” the woman nods with a mischievous smile, as if she knows more than she's letting on. “It'll allow you to understand a woman's emotions, especially one like our dear Delilah, who wields so much power, and so much heart.”
“Thank you.”
“Now off you go,” the woman says as she waves me off. “You must be dying to get to her. I know how newlyweds are.”
I chuckle as the woman goes back inside the library, feeling smug about her warmth toward me, while a flicker of sadness rears its unwelcome head.
Back when I was living in the village with the pack I was born into, there was a woman just like her who'd dote on me, bringing baked goods to our hut as gifts.
I sigh, pushing away the thought that threatens to unleash emotional turmoil on me, the flicker of the dark cloud that comes with it too daunting to face right now.
But at every turn, the Shadow Fang Pack members show me kindness, oozing warmth that makes it nearly impossible not to remember the traumas of my past. They're welcoming, and especially kinder when they realize I'm Delilah's husband.
The Shadow Fang Pack has a soft spot for their alpha's only child, speaking highly of her that it only becomes natural for them to warm up to me. I cross the street when a little boy waves me over, smiling when he grabs my hand and shows me inside to his family's ice cream parlor.
“What flavor would you like, Mister Hunter?” the woman behind the counter asks once I've introduced myself as Delilah's husband.
“Er—mint choc-chip, please,” I say as the little boy bounces excitedly beside me, tugging my arm.
“Miss Delilah likes that one, too!” he beams excitedly, and my lips draw into a smile as the woman hands me a sugar cone with two scoops of the ice cream.
Everyone is so nice in Scarborough that it lifts my spirits, even if I have to actively push away the intrusive thoughts about my old pack. I don't want to get too attached, but the hospitality of the Shadow Fang Pack constantly reminds me of the troubles of my past.
A past I can't seem to escape from. That's why I couldn't win the alpha trials in the Bloodclaw Pack. I couldn't risk becoming important and having others rely on me. Bloodclaw wasn't the pack I was born into, and I could never bring myself to get too close.
It's also the reason I decided to become a nomad, a lone wolf, hopping from one pack to another when I'd formed strong bonds with the friends I made during black ops. Friends who were from different packs spread around Maine, and it seemed like a good idea to hop from one pack to another.
But there's another reason why I couldn't become the Bloodclaw Alpha, and that reason stands at the stove in the communal kitchen in the pack den, stirring a pot of the soup brewing for lunch.
“Hello, wife,” I whisper as I approach her, prompting her to turn to me with a smile that's probably forced.
“Hello, husband,” she returns, and I lean in to give her a quick hug for the sake of the public's eyes watching us.
Even though we're pretending, it's hard to fake what I feel when I have her in my arms, closing my eyes to bask in the scent of roses she exudes, relishing the warmth of her body.
Having heard the way her pack members speak so highly of her kindness has me feeling closer than ever to her, knowing she's an extraordinary woman and feeling honored to be her husband and her fated mate.
I draw back only to stare into her eyes, noticing the way she stares back at me. Her warm, honey-golden eyes betray the coldness she's been showing me these past few days, and for a moment, I forget that we're pretending.
“Would you like me to help you?” I ask, stepping aside and placing the book I got from the librarian on an empty high shelf.
Delilah nods as she turns back to the pot, stirring as if she were brewing a special mixture in a cauldron. “You can help set up the tables for lunch. We'll only need one table. It's not as full this time of the day compared to dinnertime.”
Falling into a comfortable silence as one of the matrons shows me where to find the plates and cups for the table, Delilah and I are back to working in sync in a domestic setting.
We always seem to work well together, even outside of missions, and I feel the unease from this morning steadily slip away.
Until Prince Damion walks into the pack center just before lunchtime, charming his way to the table as he passes through a group of Shadow Fang wolves. He seems to bask in all the attention he receives, remaining graceful as he entertains those who fawn over him.
I grunt under my breath, growing irritated when I witness his charming ways. When I glance at the kitchen, only to see Delilah watching the scene unfold, too, a bout of jealousy surges through my bones.
I have to remind myself not to clench my fists while holding a stack of plates. The prince offers me a curt nod as he passes, and I stifle the urge to punch his handsome face.
What is he still doing here when he won't be marrying Delilah? I think grudgingly, returning to my task and eyeing the prince suspiciously.
He has no business still being around, and I'm thankful Delilah dragged me here so I could ensure that he doesn't go anywhere near my mate.
It doesn't help that Delilah's parents look down on me for not being a high-ranking wolf fit for their daughter.
They make their bitterness known with their hostile glares as they enter the pack den, Alpha Gabriel deliberately turning his face away with spite, and Luna Layla scrunching her nose in a way that has me sniffing myself.
It's not like I smell, but they sure make it seem as if my mere scent is unbearable. The only thing standing in the way of them kicking me out of Scarborough is not the marriage certificate their daughter signed, but her revelation that we're fated mates.
I guess they weren't expecting their daughter to be mated to someone without status.
It's not like that bond matters, anyway.
But they don't need to know that.
Perhaps that's why Delilah slips her arm through mine and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Thank you for helping me out at the center today, Hunter,” she praises loud enough for her parents to hear as she stares into my eyes. I want to believe that it's genuine praise, but I know she's just putting on an act for them.
“You're most welcome, m'lady,” I drawl and lean in to press a kiss to her lips. I hear her little startled intake of breath, but her eyes flutter closed as she gives in to the tender moment for the sake of those watching.
It's a selfish act, because it isn't an act. But it earns the swooning praise of the Shadow Fang Pack members who've taken their seats at the table.
“Wow…they're so in love…”
“I hope I find my fated mate one day…”
“Oh, young love…such a beautiful thing.”
I smirk against Delilah's lips as I hear the whispered remarks about our relationship, feeling less jealous about the prince being around.
It's not like he gets to kiss her lips. It's not like he gets to make Delilah speechless.
But that leaves room for me to wonder if she feels the same way I do, heat rising in my core as my body becomes overstimulated from the connection of our lips. My nerves go into a frenzy, and I keep my lips pressed to hers a little longer, relishing in the sensations the kiss ignites.
Delilah seems flustered when I draw back slowly, batting her eyelids like she’s disoriented, and a blush crawls over her face. She snaps out of her daze and takes my hand and leads me to the table, seemingly pushing aside how affected she was by that chaste kiss.
Lunch is served by the matrons who join us at the table, and Alpha Gabriel is deep in conversation with the prince, again acting as if I don't exist.
By the time the tables are cleared, the Alpha of Shadow Fang rises and clinks a fork against his glass.
“Attention, Shadow Fang members,” he addresses the pack, scanning the eating area.
“As you all know, the Lycan Prince of Estonia has graced us with his presence these past few days.
Luna Layla and I have decided to host a party for the pack to celebrate Prince Damion's visit. All adult werewolves are invited to the town hall tomorrow night. There will be a feast, so keep your bellies empty. More details will be posted in the group chat for those who are not with us right now.”
As if a dagger went straight through my heart, I choke on my drink, slowly turning toward Delilah, who appears as shocked as I'm feeling.
A party for the prince?
Her parents didn't throw a party for us to celebrate our marriage, or even announce it. Anyone who knows we're married only knows about it through the grapevine.
Grunting under my breath, I chug down the rest of my drink and glare at Prince Damion as he chats with Luna Layla. If I could just get my hands around his neck, he'd be dead meat. I can't stand him.