Chapter 14 - Wayne
I throw a party for my own pack three nights after the carriage, mostly because staying still has started to feel unbearable.
It doesn’t work the way it usually does. Usually the noise fills something in me, the drink and the music and the easy company of men who’ve followed me since we were both too young to know better.
Tonight it just sits there, loud and useless, while my mind keeps circling back to the one place I told myself I wouldn’t let it go.
I’m seated on a log in front of a flame, a goblet of wine in my hand. My Pack members are drinking and dancing under the moon while I wallow away in a corner.
I can’t stop thinking about the carriage and the fact that I almost lost her that night. Why did she try to run away? What if we hadn’t arrived in the nick of time? What would those sick bastards have done to her?
My grip tightens around the goblet as the mere thought of those swindlers touching her infuriates me. I can’t bring myself to imagine what would’ve been her fate that night if we hadn’t stopped them.
I had kept my word to send my men to her village to shake up her family and scare them into never coming near her again. That’s how serious I am about protecting her.
What happened after the incident is still tattooed at the back of my mind. The carriage sex. None of us had thought it was going to happen that night. And perhaps that’s what made the whole thing even more interesting.
The sound of her moans still echoes in my head. And in my mind, the images of her face twisted in pleasure are all I can see. She was so tight and slick. Her skin was smooth, her breasts full and soft. Her lips were succulent, and the scent of her heat was like none I’ve ever smelled.
It’s been three days since it happened; three days since I last saw her because she’s refused to see any of us. I don’t know exactly why she’s so cold, and I want to find out.
Yes, Chris’s previous behavior must’ve triggered something that caused her to withdraw from us. But I still want to know why I’m being punished with her silence.
Every cell in my body wants her again. I’ve been deep inside her, and now I want more. But I can’t have her now because she’s mad at all of us. It’s honestly frustrating.
I drain the wine down my throat, fighting against the memory of how she turned cold immediately after sex.
That image won’t leave me alone.
I pour myself another wine and drink more than I should even though it doesn’t help at all.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” One of my lieutenants, Baird, drops into the seat across from me, already three cups deep. “That’s unlike you.”
“I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Tired.” He snorts. “Never known you to be tired at your own party.”
I hesitate. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, am I right?”
He studies me for a moment. “Get a grip. It’s weird seeing you like this.” He taps my shoulder once and walks away.
A woman finds her way to my side not long after. Tall. Blonde hair. Brown eyes. And a seductive grin.
Elizabeth. That’s her name. She’s the daughter of a respected noble man in my Pack. I’ve always found her attractive and irresistible. She’s one of the women I fuck when I’m bored or horny. Not because she’s cheap. But because she always wanted me as badly as I wanted her.
Tonight, though, she seemed ordinary—like every other woman at the party.
“Who are you and what have you done with my Alpha King?” She folds her arms across her chest, those brown eyes pinned on me.
I huff.
She settles on the log beside me. “I’ve been watching you for a while. You’re not your usual self?”
“That obvious, huh?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Not obvious at all. It’s just me and everyone else who’s noticed so far. So…you’re good.” The sarcasm in her statement can’t be more glaring.
I laugh quietly.
She leans in close, her hand finding my arm, her voice dropping into something practiced and inviting. “You know, you don’t have to sit here all by yourself all night.” Her hand caresses my chest, her eyes flashing with a familiar excitement.
I watch her closely.
“I can think of more than a few ways to keep you company,” she whispers in my ear, her tone seductive enough to awaken the sleeping beast. “I’m really good with my mouth, my lord.” Her voice drops—soft, enticing—her hand sliding down my pants. “A throat goddess, if you may.”
A few weeks ago, I’d have fallen for her charms and fucked her real good till she lost her goddamn mind.
But tonight it just feels wrong. Hollow, somehow, like she’s offering me a meal I’ve already had my fill of.
“I don’t doubt you at all,” I say, taking her hand off my groin before she can feel my hardened dick. “I appreciate it, but I’ll pass.”
She blinks, clearly not expecting the refusal. “Since when do you pass on anything?”
For some reason, I feel insulted by that question.
“Since apparently now.” I don’t offer more explanation than that.
Instantly, I rise to my feet.
She looks up at me in shock, unable to believe what just happened.
She’s still watching me in disbelief when I walk out of my own party without looking back at the noise I built specifically to drown out my own head.
It doesn’t work. Nothing about tonight has worked.
***
Alone in my room, I give up pretending distraction is going to save me.
I think about her mouth. The way it felt against mine that first night, sharp and startled and hungry all at once.
I think about the sound she made in the carriage, low and broken, my name catching on her lips like she couldn’t hold it back even if she tried.
My imagination runs wild as I start to think about all the things I didn’t get to do yet. The slow exploration I want, unhurried, nothing like the desperate collision that first kiss became.
I imagine what she’d sound like if I took my time with her instead of losing myself to urgency the way I did in the carriage. I want to understand the anatomy of her body. I want to possess every inch of her skin and adore her the way she ought to be adored.
I don’t fight the thoughts tonight. I let them take me exactly where they want to go. I sit on a leather chair in my room and take out my cock before I can even stop myself.
While stroking my length, I imagine her soft hands working me from base to tip.
“Fuck,” I mumble, tipping back my head.
My dick has been inside her. But my tongue hasn’t, and I want to taste her so badly. I want to eat her out, suck her clit, and lick her slickness until she cries out in pleasure.
I want to practice my oral skills on that gorgeous, clean-shaven flower of hers that I can’t get enough of. I want to lick through her slippery entrance and taste the sweetness of her nectar.
I want to eat her out until she shatters and squirts all over my face.
“Ours,” my wolf growls within me, hyped up by the thought alone.
I can’t wait to bask in the pleasure of watching her have an orgasm for me.
I let my imagination run wild while I beat my meat until even I come.
By the time I’m done, my mind is quieter than it’s been in days, though the ache underneath it hasn’t fully gone anywhere. If anything, it’s sharper now, more specific, less about wanting her and more about wanting her again.
I fall asleep thinking about the shape of her body, the curve of her breasts, and the way she smiles at my silly jokes.
The next morning, I wake up more determined than I’ve felt in weeks to fix whatever that meant.
So, I go to her with seduction on my mind, if I’m honest about it. Some easy charm, some teasing, the kind of thing that usually gets a reaction out of her even when she’s determined to stay annoyed with me.
When I reach her door, I knock once. Twice. Three times. No response.
I knock again.
Still no answer.
I think about turning back around, but that stubborn part of me insists I go.
Without thinking much, I push her door open and walk inside.
There, I find her sitting in the nest, restless, picking at the edge of a blanket as though she’s nervous about something.
“Go away,” she says softly without looking at me.
I head over to her nest with slow, careful steps, my eyes drinking the expression on her face. She’s sad. Not necessarily angry. But sad.
“You can’t hide in here forever.” I stop in front of her nest, my voice calm and quiet.
“I can try.”
Seeing her all curled up and in a state of despair, I forget about my initial plan of seduction. It’s no longer about what I want. It’s about putting a smile on her face.
I sit on the edge of her nest, and surprisingly, she doesn’t push me away. Even when I reach to stroke her hair, she doesn’t stop me.
I think for a moment, trying to figure out how to help get her spark back. Then an idea hits me.
“Get up,” I say.
She finally looks at me, wary. “Why?”
“Because I’m taking you to my Pack.”
“Huh?” Her brows arch.
“As my mate, my territory is half of everything that belongs to you. Seems criminal you haven’t seen an inch of it.”
She hesitates, something curious flashing in her clear blue eyes.
“It’ll be fun.” I shrug my shoulders. “Besides, it beats sulking in your nest.”
She heaves a sigh, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Is that a yes?”
She nods subtly, hiding her flushed cheeks.
I realize now that she’s been lonely this whole time and we never should’ve left her all by herself. At least not for this long.
Within the hour, we’re riding out past the palace walls on my horse, the forest opening up ahead of us thick and green and loud with birdsong.
She goes quiet the deeper we ride, her arms wrapped around my waist from behind. Every now and then, I steal glances at her instead of watching the road, unable to help myself.
Her eyes go wide at the canopy overhead, sunlight breaking through in scattered gold patches. She reaches out without thinking, fingers brushing against low-hanging leaves like she needs to confirm they’re real.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, barely above a whisper.
“Wait till you see the falls.” I hit my boots against the horse’s sides. “Hyah!”
It neighs and launches forward, galloping through the woods. I hear chuckling at the back as she clings tightly to me. The wind whips against my face, sending my hair into a frenzy as we ride along a narrow unwinding path.
I take her to the waterfall my own grandfather used to bring me to as a boy, the one place in this territory that still manages to make me feel young and stupid and full of wonder every single time.
I hop off the horse and help her down.
Her reaction doesn’t disappoint. She stands at the edge of the pool, watching the water crash down from the ridge above. In that moment, something in her face opens up, unguarded in a way I haven’t seen in a while.
“This belongs to you?” she asks.
“Belongs to all of us in the pack, technically. Now that includes you.”
She looks at me smiling, and I feel the shift happen in my own chest without meaning for it to. Something that started as wanting her, plain and simple, cracking open into something bigger and messier and far less easy to name.
I show her the village next. The market stalls, the children who run up to greet me without a trace of fear, climbing over each other to see the stranger I’ve brought with me.
She kneels to talk to one of them, laughing at something the kid says, and the sound of that laugh does something to my chest that no amount of wine or noise could ever do.
By the time we ride back, the sun’s low and orange over the treeline, and she’s quieter again, though it’s a different quiet than the restless one I found her in this morning.
“Thank you,” she says as we near the palace gates. “For today.”
“Anytime, cutie.”
She almost smiles at the nickname instead of scowling at it, which feels like its own small victory.
Sinth and Chris find out before dinner, because apparently nothing in this palace stays quiet for long.
“You took her to your territory,” Chris says like an accusation, arms crossed, though there’s less bite in it than usual. “Without telling either of us.”
“It wasn’t a secret. It just happened fast.” I shrug, unbothered. “She hasn’t seen anything outside these walls since she got here. Seemed wrong to keep her locked up in a palace when half an island technically belongs to her now.”
Sinth considers that for a moment, something thoughtful crossing his face. “Well, he’s not wrong.”
Chris’s jaw tightens, though I catch the moment his irritation gives way to something more reluctant. “Fine. If she’s ours to protect, she should see what she’s protecting too. All three territories, not just yours.”
“Careful, Chris. Almost sounded like you agreed with me on purpose this time.” I munch on an apple.
“Don’t get used to it,” he mutters, and for once I let him have the last word.
For the first time in longer than I can remember, all three of us are pulling in the same direction instead of tearing at each other over who gets credit for it.
In my book, that’s progress.