“Would you like me to help you?” I ask, stepping aside and placing the book I got from the librarian on an empty high shelf.
Delilah nods as she turns back to the pot, stirring as if she were brewing a special mixture in a cauldron. “You can help set up the tables for lunch. We'll only need one table. It's not as full this time of the day compared to dinnertime.”
Falling into a comfortable silence as one of the matrons shows me where to find the plates and cups for the table, Delilah and I are back to working in sync in a domestic setting. We always seem to work well together, even outside of missions, and I feel the unease from this morning steadily slip away.
Until Prince Damion walks into the pack center just before lunchtime, charming his way to the table as he passes through a group of Shadow Fang wolves. He seems to bask in all the attention he receives, remaining graceful as he entertains those who fawn over him.
I grunt under my breath, growing irritated when I witness his charming ways. When I glance at the kitchen, only to see Delilah watching the scene unfold, too, a bout of jealousy surges through my bones.
I have to remind myself not to clench my fists while holding a stack of plates. The prince offers me a curt nod as he passes, and I stifle the urge to punch his handsome face.
What is he still doing here when he won't be marrying Delilah? I think grudgingly, returning to my task and eyeing the prince suspiciously.
He has no business still being around, and I'm thankful Delilah dragged me here so I could ensure that he doesn't go anywhere near my mate.
It doesn't help that Delilah's parents look down on me for not being a high-ranking wolf fit for their daughter. They make their bitterness known with their hostile glares as they enter the pack den, Alpha Gabriel deliberately turning his face away with spite, and Luna Layla scrunching her nose in a way that has me sniffing myself.
It's not like I smell, but they sure make it seem as if my mere scent is unbearable. The only thing standing in the way of them kicking me out of Scarborough is not the marriage certificate their daughter signed, but her revelation that we're fated mates.
I guess they weren't expecting their daughter to be mated to someone without status.
It's not like that bond matters, anyway.
But they don't need to know that.
Perhaps that's why Delilah slips her arm through mine and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Thank you for helping me out at the center today, Hunter,” she praises loud enough for her parents to hear as she stares into my eyes. I want to believe that it's genuine praise, but I know she's just putting on an act for them.
“You're most welcome, m'lady,” I drawl and lean in to press a kiss to her lips. I hear her little startled intake of breath, but her eyes flutter closed as she gives in to the tender moment for the sake of those watching.
It's a selfish act, because it isn't an act. But it earns the swooning praise of the Shadow Fang Pack members who've taken their seats at the table.
“Wow…they're so in love…”
“I hope I findmyfated mate one day…”
“Oh, young love…such a beautiful thing.”
I smirk against Delilah's lips as I hear the whispered remarks about our relationship, feeling less jealous about the prince being around.
It's not like he gets to kiss her lips. It's not like he gets to make Delilah speechless.
But that leaves room for me to wonder if she feels the same way I do, heat rising in my core as my body becomes overstimulated from the connection of our lips. My nerves go into a frenzy, and I keep my lips pressed to hers a little longer, relishing in the sensations the kiss ignites.
Delilah seems flustered when I draw back slowly, batting her eyelids like she’s disoriented, and a blush crawls over her face. She snaps out of her daze and takes my hand and leads me to the table, seemingly pushing aside how affected she was by that chaste kiss.
Lunch is served by the matrons who join us at the table, and Alpha Gabriel is deep in conversation with the prince, again acting as if I don't exist.
By the time the tables are cleared, the Alpha of Shadow Fang rises and clinks a fork against his glass.
“Attention, Shadow Fang members,” he addresses the pack, scanning the eating area. “As you all know, the Lycan Prince of Estonia has graced us with his presence these past few days. Luna Layla and I have decided to host a party for the pack to celebrate Prince Damion's visit. All adult werewolves are invited to the town hall tomorrow night. There will be a feast, so keep your bellies empty. More details will be posted in the group chat for those who are not with us right now.”
As if a dagger went straight through my heart, I choke on my drink, slowly turning toward Delilah, who appears as shocked as I'm feeling.
A party for the prince?
Her parents didn't throw a party for us to celebrate our marriage, or even announce it. Anyone who knows we're married only knows about it through the grapevine.
