“We will be able to test these theories once we are in Silverlake,” I point out. “If there are still animals seeking you out, you will know they are coming from everywhere.”
Gwen lets the raccoon climb into the car, where he grabs a blanket and snuggles up against the backseat. I am starting to wonder how Liam will react to the many animal hairs and traces in his car. Well, it’s his old car anyway, and I will make sure to get it cleaned before returning it.
Gwen wants to properly say goodbye to her neighbor, Donna, once more before we leave. She already said her goodbyes to her friends in the club and to her other acquaintances, but it seems Donna is the closest to her. I make sure to introduce myself to her, too. Gwen and I came up with a story together, in which I am her long-distance boyfriend who recently returned from his overseas work and proposed to Gwen, now taking her, Faye and Marina with me to live together.
At least the story is partly true, which makes it easier to stick to it. I just hope I don’t make a creepy first impression, but Donna smiles at me, putting my mind at ease.
The two women chat for a while, and Donna hands her a small bag. The delicious scent of freshly baked pastries and bread tickles my nostrils. When Gwen hands me the bag, I cradle it in my arms protectively.
Gwen laughs. “You know you have to share, Felix?”
“I will share with you, obviously,” I say. “But we’ll need to keep it a secret from the other car.”
Donna laughs, too. “I made some cinnamon rolls for little Ann. Give them to her, then you won’t need to share the rest.”
Gwen smiles. “Thank you.” She hugs Donna one last time before taking my hand and allowing me to lead her back to the car. There is a hint of sadness in her eyes, but overall, I can feel her joy through the bond, and her relief.
The worries from the past months must have been weighing so heavily on her. I hope she will like it in Silverlake and will be happy with me as her mate. All three of them deserve to finally be able to breathe.
twenty-three
A New Home
*FELIX*
The drive back home takes us two days, just like Dario predicted. We take a couple of breaks for Faye in particular, and stay the night in a hotel. Dad made sure we had an actual hotel to stay in on the way, so that everyone was comfortable.
The two days of traveling are surprisingly stress-free. Nothing weird happens, no one seems to follow us. Although the raccoon eventually became restless and started to chew on the backseat pillows a few hours ago, so, Gwen has been bribing it with snacks. He seems to be particularly drawn to her peanut cookies, which finally earns him the name Peanut.
“The otter still doesn’t have a name,” I point out while steering the car from the highway towards a narrow road which will lead us to a forest, and soon take us to pack grounds. Finally.
“I think it should be something water-related,” Gwen says. “I am sorry to burst your bubble, but I suck at naming pets.”
“I figured,” I grin, laughing when she smacks my leg. “What? I mean, Mr. Dot? Tuesday? QQ for Quackquack?”
“You could at least pretend they are cool names,” she complains.
“Sure, they are fantastic,” I deadpan.
Gwen laughs before returning to checking on the otter. “Aqua,” she says.
I snort. “You just had to prove your own point, huh?”
“Now you know that I can as well own up to my bad name-giving,” she says.
All banter aside, I am glad for her being distracted by the pets, because the closer we get to my home, the more anxiety I can feel through our mate bond.
“Felix?” Gwen asks into the silence.
“Yes?”
“I have never asked you, but what exactly do you do? Are you working or do you have a rank in the pack?”
At her question, I can feel my own anxiety spike instantly. Goddess, it’s true, we never talked about that part of my life. She knows I am dyslexic, and she knows about my family and my overall life up to this point, but not about my utter failure at college.
“Hey.” Gwen reaches out her hand to rest it on my knee. “It’s okay. I can feel your emotions all over the place. I am sorry I asked. It’s not important.”
“It is,” I sigh. “I’d just hate for you to think I am a complete loser.”
