None of them even tried to talk to me.
I was going to have to unpack that later, too.
Callum's family's enthusiasm made up for my family's lack of it.
No one seemed more excited than Liv, who kept dragging me back onto the dance floor every time I took a break, and Callum with me.
Dare spent most of the time dancing in a group of women who basically tripped over themselves to touch him. I noticed that every time he moved to a new spot, the crowd just sort of gravitated toward him, like bugs to light.
Merrily watched the party from a chair on the sidelines with a small smile on her face, until she came over to let us know she was going home.
When we finally drove away, Callum headed to the Honeymoon Hotel in the neutral part of Rumor. It was a staple in our city, because leaving the wards was both dangerous and difficult. Mostspellcasters didn't let anyone go through them, and you couldn't get through without them.
The rooms in the hotel were large, luxurious, and literally magical. The food and alcohol were enchanted, too. The pixies who owned the place offered a steep discount for newly-mated couples, hence the name of the hotel, not that Callum cared about that.
Our fingers were intertwined as we walked up to the doors together, continuing to sell the story. Honestly, I liked the way his hand felt in mine.
He hadn't warned me to pack a bag, but he'd let me know on the way that one of the two he'd brought was mine.
I hoped there was more in it than lingerie.
But, in my experience with the lingerie he'd gifted me, he was really good at picking things I liked. I hadn't dared sleep in them outside of heat, knowing his scent would cling to my skin and the werewolves I worked with would think I was with him, but I would've if I could.
We picked up the key to the presidential suite in the lobby from a pixie who looked entirely terrified when she saw Callum. When we made it to the suite a few minutes later, I walked through the spacious, elegant apartment.
It was set up to resemble Paris, France, and the massive windows looked out on a bustling city at night with the Eiffel Tower in the center of our view. I had no idea if it was realistic,but it was beautiful. And supposedly, the pixies were masters at transporting you to beautiful parts of the human world.
Ignoring the rose petals on the floor and bed, I walked over to a balcony that absolutely was not located in Paris and leaned over the edge, taking in the lights, the view, and the feeling. It even smelled different.
Sable was fast asleep, leaving me to work through everything that had happened on my own.
I was itching to remove the tight, gold fabric that clung to my body, but had so many lingering, conflicting emotions about the day. I didn't feel quite ready to take the dress off and step into the next part of my life.
Callum stepped up behind me. His hands landed lightly on my waist, and I closed my eyes as the front of his body pressed against the back of mine. There was too much fabric separating us, but this was still the beginning of the fight.
He may have known everything about me, but he didn't have feelings for me. He'd made that clear with both his words and his actions.
I didn't have feelings for him, either. Not good ones, at least.And I hardly knew anything about him.
Yet there was a permanent bond between us.
The mark on my left arm had grown significantly darker when we sealed the bond, just like he said it would.
We were fated mates, connected all the way down to the soul.
He'd never evensmiledat me.
I felt him sort of mentallytouchthe bond between us. It felt like a thin door separating our minds. Like our beings were pressed together, now, and only a gauzy sheet of fabric separated us.
My eyes remained closed, and I nearly shuddered.
Mental pack links had always felt too intimate to me, and this was on another level entirely. I could feel his consciousness there, within me. I might even be able to feel his emotions, if I pushed.
"Don't," I said aloud.
Callum's presence remained on the connection between us. The feeling was similar to a hand resting lightly over my skin, with nothing but thin silk separating us. But it was so much deeper than that. So much more intense. Because my skin wasn't my skin—it was my mind.
My soul.
