CHAPTER SIX
The pitter-patter of my feet was soft as I descended the stairs the next morning. Wolfe and Cass had been kind enough to show me to a bedroom after a long hour of Shifters 101. My eyes were wide with wonder this morning, the world bright and new. The fictional worlds I had read about were now my reality.
And I absolutely loved it.
I crept through the hallways, peeking in each room. I knew I was being a creeper, and I didn’t much care. The fear I once had in finding a husband had vanished. Instead, I now bounced in place as I eyed each of Alaric’s pictures or antiques and all the finely crafted space.
I only got lost four times.
I was quite proud of myself.
I picked up a watch and examined the engraving on the back, my heart warm at the sweet and strong words. It no longer ticked, the piece an antique, but the gold was still smooth and polished, well loved. I placed it back down on the end table carefully.
It was a gift from his father.
For me, the true gift would be in knowing my father.
But when one was still living, the living gave gifts.
And his father loved him.
A masculine throat cleared behind me.
I spun around in the early morning light shining in through the oversized windows, my hair whipping me in the face. I quickly brushed my brown curls out of my eyes and stared at the man leaning against the parlor’s door. The same man who had become a berserker last night and was bent on killing.
Yet, I was still alive.
Why?
Because, apparently, I was his mate.
I swallowed and attempted a smile. “Hello.”
His dark brown eyes ran over my features slowly. He spoke quietly, “Hello.”
Quiet descended on us.
Not completely comfortable, only a little stifling.
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my pants, and hedged, “Did Cass talk to you? I think he stayed the night too.”
Did the man even know who I was?
He nodded slowly. “He did. He’s making breakfast in the kitchen for the three of us.”
I brushed a stray curl out of my face again, the hair tickling my cheek. “About last night. That didn’t go quite as I planned.” I shuffled my feet, studying each of the big man’s rugged features. “How about we have a do-over like we’ve never even met before?”
His head nodded once more. Then he shoved off the door and strolled in my direction, each of his long legs bringing him closer and closer. When he stopped, a waft of evergreen and rain washed over me—his unique scent.
He devoured my features all over again. “I’m Alaric Wood. I’m very happy to meet you.”
My lips curved up at the edges in a genuine smile, enjoying how he studied even that small action with intense curiosity. I held out my hand, murmuring, “Faith Peyton. It’s a pleasure.”
He lifted his right hand and held mine with the gentlest touch for such a large individual. I stared at his hand, my stomach fluttering with excitement, seeing his tan complexion against my slightly darker skin. It was sensory overload, beautiful and decadent. Alaric dipped his head over my hand and brushed his lips against my skin.
Goose bumps scoured my sensitive flesh.
Then, still bent over, he sniffed at my hand. “Fish.”
