Chapter 15 Olivia
FIFTEEN
Olivia
Laurana was hovering just outside the door when I stepped through, seeming guilty as if she’d been eavesdropping.
“Sorry to startle you,” I murmured as my other pack mates began to come through the door behind me.
“No, no apology necessary.” Her smile was forced, and I wondered again how she felt about her place here.
“Your father told us you’d see us to the guest quarters. He’s meeting with the governing herd, and we’re supposed to hear back tomorrow.”
“Of course. You may all follow me.” She did the special bow again and then trotted off, leaving us to follow at a slightly too-fast walk.
“Something seem off about her to you?” Fiona asked quietly enough that only I could hear.
“Yes, but I can’t put my finger on what.”
She nodded, deep in thought as we traversed the island to the guest quarters.
They were perched delightfully close to the beach, the building reminding me of a fancy resort.
It was a long, low collection of rooms, each with a separate front door and back sliding doors that faced the gorgeous beach, the crash of aquamarine waves audible even from where we stood at the front of the building.
“There are enough rooms for each mated pair, and two spares for the maidens and your single wolf.” Laurana nodded to Samuel, and my heart plummeted.
They expected me to room with Lucien? Lucien, who couldn’t even sit on a couch next to me for a ten-minute conversation?
I anxiously bit my bottom lip between my teeth. Fiona wouldn’t mind if I crashed with them or the maidens. Well, Elodie. Galyna barely spoke to me, but surely she wouldn’t turn away a female in need?
Before I could ask, Laurana was gone, and my pack mates were beginning to wander off toward rooms.
Fiona, Goddess bless her, turned to me before leaving. “You want to room with us? Or Reed can ask Lucien to room with Samuel and give you your own space if you prefer.”
“There’s no need for that,” Lucien said, his voice unexpectedly coming from just over my shoulder and making me jump. “There is a room for each mated pair.”
Fiona’s eyes flickered hazel as they narrowed at him. “That may be, but you two aren’t bonded yet. If she doesn’t want to stay with you, she’s not going to stay with you.”
Lucien raised both hands in an argument-diffusing gesture. “I’m not trying to start a war here. Just trying to treat Olivia as an equal, instead of putting her at the kiddie table like the rest of the pack does.”
“You self-absorbed bastard,” Fiona snarled, taking an angry step toward him. “You take that back.”
“No. I stand by what I said. She’s not a child. She can speak for herself about where she wants to sleep, and she doesn’t need you, me, or anyone to take charge of her.”
An oddly warm sensation filled my chest at his words. That was a big leap from when he’d called me an infant at twenty-four to treating me as an equal. I liked it.
And I was also a little bit terrified, because I was a raging people pleaser, and it was not at all in my comfort zone to speak up and make my wishes known.
“Guys, please don’t fight. I— It’s not a big deal, really. I can stay with Lucien.” I pasted on a smile, even though I absolutely hated the fighting.
“What’s the problem?” Reed asked, stepping up to put an arm around Fiona’s shoulders and squint accusingly at Lucien.
Why was everyone always so ready to accuse him of something? Okay, yes, he’d accidentally cut me yesterday, but that hadn’t been intentional, and he’d apologized profusely. Plus, Brielle had fixed me right up.
But what was it about my mate—or me, I guess—that had everyone jumping down his throat?
“There is no problem.” I tried again, stepping forward this time to get everyone’s attention, even though I didn’t really want it.
“Fiona was just being kind and offering to let me stay with you two. But there’s no need.
” I was proud of how firm I sounded, even though I was absolutely shitting myself about spending an entire night alone with Lucien.
“If I change my mind, which room will you two be in?” I added, just in case.
Reed pointed to the room second to the end. “You two are right next to us.”
“Perfect!” My cheer sounded fake to my own ears, but no way was I backing down and letting them fight again. “We’re neighbors.”
“If you need us, you come get us. Any time.” Fiona stated again, her now fully shifted hazel eyes proof that she was still not happy about the whole situation.
I grabbed her hand, squeezing it to show her I was fine.
I hoped I was fine.
Reed led her away, and the warm bubble I’d been feeling popped as nervousness consumed me. My belly was awash with uncertainty, and it felt as if I’d swallowed a handful of live spiders.
But, no. I’d just agreed to spend a night alone with my mate.
Whose marks were on my side.
Who was looking at me right now like he wanted to eat me, or perhaps like he regretted arguing for us rooming together? It was a toss-up.
It was all whiplash with this man. One minute, he was furious with me; the next, he was bringing me treats, and then turning right around and refusing to sit next to me.
Frankly, I was confused. And slightly hurt. Was I so undesirable as a partner? Why else would he be so hot and cold?
Well, he had just been through a major trauma, but wouldn’t that make you want to lean more on a newly found mate bond? I could soothe his wolf in ways no one else could. But he had to give me a chance.
“Shall we?” he asked, offering me his arm again, as if he was all gentleman now.
Whiplash.
“Sure. I mean, yes.” I hated myself for stammering as I looped my arm through his, the warm strength of him distracting.
The guest room was just as stunning on the inside as Herd Leader Asithius’s quarters.
It wasn’t enormous, which meant from the front door, we could see straight back to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall at the back of the little apartment, framed by flowy white curtains for privacy.
It was a stunning view, the muted sounds of the waves soothing.
It was all luxury, from the beautifully tiled floors to the gleaming fixtures with crisp white accents. The bed was enormous, set right next to the windows and piled high with white pillows and a fluffy duvet that looked like a cloud.
But when Lucien shut the front door behind us, the surroundings faded to leave only a single focus behind.
We were completely alone for the first time since we’d found out we were mates.
So little time had passed, and yet, it felt like so much had already transpired between us.
I leaned against the counter in the small kitchenette, resisting the urge to tap my fingernails on the stone countertops through sheer force of will.
Silence stretched for an interminable beat, and I held my breath as I waited for him to break the ice.
“So…” He drawled, the single, slow syllable making my stomach sizzle with heat like a pancake on a hot griddle, ready to be flipped.
“So?” I countered, staring at him intensely, as if his expression was going to give me any clue as to whether he was feeling anything close to as intense as I was.
“How do you want to do this? There’s a bed, a chair, and the floor. I’ll give you the bed, of course, but—”
“Wait, what?”
He paused, the confused expression he wore a little bit adorable. “What, what?”
I snorted, some of the nervous tension leaving me at the exchange. “We’re just going straight to sleeping arrangements? Nothing else? You don’t want to talk, try to get to know each other?” I sounded too hopeful, and I kicked myself for it.
“Oh. Right.” He rested his hands on the countertop between us, and I avidly traced them, committing every tiny detail to memory, from the fine scars over his knuckles to the sheer breadth of them. They looked strong, masculine. So different from mine.
I could almost imagine what they’d feel like skimming over my body in that big old bed behind me. But not quite.
He ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair, and I noticed it had grown out a bit since I’d first seen him. It was no longer jaw length, but just past the sharp line of his jaw. It gave him a slightly more disheveled look, and I liked it.
But while I was admiring his hair, he spun away. “I get it. I’m ugly. But you don’t have to stare, do you?” The words were harsh, as if he’d spat them from between clenched teeth.
“What are you talking about? I wasn’t thinking you were ugly at all. I was noticing that your hair has grown out some since we first met. I… like it. It makes you look a little bit less perfect, in a good way.”
His laugh was bitter. “Are you kidding me? Less perfect and you’re happy about that?
” He spun back toward me, rage simmering in the depths of his eyes, as if it was ready to burst out and burn the place down around our ears.
“If you’re looking for imperfect, well, darling, you’ve got the right mate.
” He defiantly turned his face so his scar was pointed right at me.
Ahh.
“Lucien, I’m not sure why you’re so angry. I meant it. I wasn’t staring at your scar. I don’t care about that. I just see you.”
“You don’t care about my scar.”
“Well, not in a bad way. I’m sorry that happened to you, because it was awful and painful. But, no, I don’t care that you have a scar. Everyone has something. Some people’s wounds are just under the surface.”
He stalked around the island, and a spike of fear sent my heart speeding. Lucien boxed me in, his bulkier frame making me feel small as he leaned in close, that burning rage front and center in his gaze as those hands I’d just been admiring slapped onto the counter on either side of me.
His expression was dark, thunderclouds waiting to break. Or just to break me.