Keira drew in a breath. “I accept the Consort Royal. The cats will not oppose the match.”
Gordon leaned forward. “The Equidaes will support the Principal’s choice.”
“I will need to discuss this with my people,” Jessy huffed.
“You do that,” Hudson growled.
I kept my breathing deep and even as the shifters faced off. You could feel the tension in the air.
“Is anyone going to open those cookies?” Gordon asked, eyeing the tin. “Because this surely calls for a celebration.”
Apart from his declaration, Dave had been silent this entire time. That didn’t mean he wasn’t paying attention, in fact, it was the complete opposite. Dave soaked in information like a dry sponge and used it later to obliterate you if needed. He reached for the tin and popped the lid. The scent of cookies floated around us and snapped the tension in the room. Dave snagged a lemon cookie for himself as Hudson opened the whiskey and poured us both a glass before sending it around the table. Cookie in one hand, whiskey in the other, the shifters raised their glasses in the air.
“To Hudson and Cora,” Dave growled. “Our Principal and Consort Royal.” Oh boy.
The shifters howled, whistled, and growled. Karen poked her head out from the kitchen, possibly to check that a brawl wasn’t about to break out. It was a good thing she was one of the few humans to be in the know. I’m sure owning the only bar in town meant she’d seen some weird shit.
“These are good cookies,” Jessy declared. “Your mate is an excellent cook.”
Hudson shot me an amused look. I was a terrible cook and could not claim any responsibility for the sugary goodness. “Cora is many things,” Hudson said, cutting off my protest.
The shifters munched their cookies with relish, washing them down with reasonably expensive whiskey. “Do you want the tin back?” Gordon asked, turning the decorative Hershey’s chocolate tin around. “Because Martha would appreciate such a fine tin.”
“Keep it,” I told him as I polished off my own cookie. Maggie would be excited to know that the shifters enjoyed her cookies. Perhaps one day she would venture into the pack and bond with some of her own kind. She had been a very young eighteen when she arrived on my doorstep, terrified of the forced mating her father was dragging her toward. Hudson had outlawed arranged matings, but Maggie’s father had missed the memo, at least until he’d received a personal visit from the Principal.
Now Maggie was a beautiful young woman with a bright future ahead of her, however, the lingering doubt caused her to avoid the pack. I’d only recently gotten her to stop running out of the room the second Dave or Hudson turned up. It was progress.
“Now that we have cleared the air,” Jessy said, “can we move the pack meals back to the pack house?”
Keira leaned her elbows on the table and looked at Hudson and I. “I guess that depends on if the Principal and his mate are going to relocate?”
“My business requires me to be on the premises,” I reasoned.
“We’ve not discussed this yet,” Hudson added.
My head snapped to him. Um, yes, we had, and I had made it crystal clear that I was not moving from Summer Grove House. His eyes bored into mine, begging me to not argue with him in front of his pack mates. With a mental reserve I didn’t realize I owned, I kept my mouth shut and let the matter hang. Hudson’s gaze glinted with amusement. There was a mountain of differences between us, and while I knew I needed to meet him halfway, I would not be leaving my home. It was non-negotiable.
The shifters cleared the table in record time and exited The Pit buzzing with talks of a mating ceremony I had not agreed to. I folded myself into the Bugatti and sighed. Hudson was suspiciously silent as I drove us home while nibbling on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. The tension was making me jittery, but I wouldn’t be breaking it any time soon. In fact, as I spun the car onto the drive, I was planning my escape. I didn’t want to have the inevitable conversation or deal with the consequences of accepting Hudson’s mate claim.
I swung open the door and made it inside without the Principal intervening. Perhaps he also needed time. I waved at Rebecca who was sharing a cake with a male vampire guest. My steps faltered, then I carried myself up the stairs. I wouldn’t be handing out unsolicited relationship advice this evening. Nope, they were adults and they could make their own mistakes.
I didn’t hear him, but I felt him. Power, masculine and absolute, radiated along my spine. I twisted the handle of the door to my room. Hudson had given me space these last weeks, not pushing, not pursuing, simply being present. He kept to his rented room on the floor below mine and checked in with me in the public areas. My reprieve, I realized, was over.
His breath stirred the hair on the nape of my neck as I stepped inside my room, the door clicking closed behind us. I pressed my lips together as I made my way to the small kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
“Drink?” I asked as I grabbed a juice box.
Silence was my answer as I grabbed another for him. I didn’t even know if he liked juice boxes and we were meant to be spending our lives together. Apple or orange? These were important things I should know. I picked out one of each because I liked both, then I fiddled with the tiny straws, finally poking them inside the cartons. Nothing left to do now, unless I tried cooking something, then it would be obvious. I almost laughed, like he didn’t already know I was avoiding looking at him.
“Look at me,” he rumbled. My fingers tightened around the apple juice and a little squirted over my hand. Damn it. Gentle but firm hands gripped my shoulders and spun me around before I could declare I needed an hour to shower off the sticky liquid. His fingers tipped my head back so I could no longer avoid his eyes. “I know you are scared of the future, how it will look, what you may need to give up to make this work. But we are a partnership, we will both have to make some changes to find our new normal. Change isn’t necessarily bad, and I would never ask you to give up anything that makes your soul sing.”
My eyes fluttered closed and I sucked in a breath. “You’re wrong. I’m not scared, I’m terrified.”
He crowded me against the counter and picked me up, making my eyes fly open as he slid my ass onto the cool kitchen worktop so we were eye level. He took the juice boxes out of my hands and placed them in the sink before sliding between my legs and placing his hands on either side of my hips. He tilted his head and stared at me like I was the only woman on the planet. It’s both intoxicating and unnerving to have someone look at you like you hold their entire world in the palm of your hands. I didn’t want to be responsible for another’s happiness, I was one hundred percent sure that my future would be bathed in crimson and soaked in horror. There was no happy conclusion to my life; too many people were pulling at my strings, and it would eventually tear me to pieces. I didn’t want to take this magnificent man down with me.
“Whatever you are thinking right now, stop,” he whispered. “You are having a silent argument with your own mind. I have no hope of trying to reason with you if you don’t talk to me or share what you are feeling. I cannot help you.”
“We’ve never even been on a date,” I mumbled. I was reaching for excuses for this to not happen. They were feeble excuses, but for some inexplicable reason, it was important to point this out.
