At sunset,the four of us eat dinner in silence, save for Sylvie’s unintelligible babbling. Maurleen’s shepherd’s pie is to die for, but be that as it may, no one’s appetite is substantial enough to finish a single serving.
Several times, my eye catches the scar on her upper shoulder. On lycan females, only four subtle puncture marks remain oncethe wound heals. The oracle’s mark is different—the scar tissue is thick where Wyatt’s canines entered her flesh. At least here, among the pack, she doesn’t have to hide it any longer. Here, it’s worn as a badge of honor.
A firm knock on the front door causes us to drop our silverware in unison. Wyatt rises instantly, urging us to stay put. The door opens, revealing Axe’s towering frame. His chest heaves, nostrils flaring. A dark blue ocean rumbles in his eyes as our gazes collide, guilt hitting me head on.
The knot in Wyatt’s throat bobs as he sizes Axe up. “Welcome to our home, Commander. Please, come in.”
“Thank you,” he drawls, stepping through the threshold.
Grinning ear to ear, Maurleen’s freckled cheeks redden. “Good heavens,” she mutters under her breath. “Those visions sure didn’t do him justice.”
The Alpha grips Wyatt’s hand. “Pleased to meet you both.”
“There’s plenty of food left if you’d like some dinner. Vessa, honey, why don’t you make up a plate?” Maurleen offers.
“I would really appreciate that,” he says. “But allow me to serve myself. I insist.”
Maurleen gives me googly eyes as he rounds into the kitchen and cuts himself a piece of her pie. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing right now, honey? He’s hotter than one of them saucy firemen calendars. You must’ve really bumped that head of yours,” she whispers.
“Quit jabbering like he doesn’t have wolf hearing,” I snap under my breath.
Leaning back in her chair, she fans herself. “Too bad he didn’t kick the door down. Shit, I’d flick the match and start the fire myself.”
“Maurleen!”
We talk amongst ourselves for a few minutes until Axe clears his plate. I reach for it without hesitation and scurry away to the kitchen sink before I accidentally lock eyes with him again.
“That was excellent,” he declares, bringing a large hand over his abdomen.
Maurleen beams at him. “There’s plenty more if you haven’t had your fill.”
After a polite refusal, his eyes drift to Wyatt. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to speak with Vessa. Alone.”
Wyatt nods, pulling out the chair for his mate. Maurleen scoops up her daughter, waving that tiny little hand at us in farewell. I curse her internally when she gives me a wink, leaving me to face yesterday’s consequences.
Once they vanish down the hall, the Alpha begins his prowl to the kitchen. Now there really is nowhere for me to go. No time for my lungs to inflate. From his pocket, he retrieves my note, flattening it against the counter. Judging by how fast he got here, he must’ve left Tukkon the second he found it on my pillow.
"You lied to me. Youareafraid of me," he says, that low timbre full of gravel.
I refuse to look at him. “No, it’s not that. You don’t understand. I’m a burden, Axe.”
"The pack just needs more time to assess you, to see for themselves that you can be trusted.”
"My presence will only bring more violence and outrage to Bleeding Sun’s doorstep. Was that not made clear when Colton tried to kill you?"
"Lycans are constantly scheming to come for my throat. Seven years in, and dissent is still an everyday occurrence. But at the end of the day, the pack is a family, and we will always find a way to adapt. To survive.”
For a moment, he pauses to control the rapid rise and fall of his broad chest. “If you become Luna, you will not be ourpeople's burden. You will be a beacon. A symbol of what our relationship with humans once was and could one day be."
I place a hand over his own. For a second, I marvel at the way my small fingers measure nearly half the size of his. His skin is warm and calloused, a testament to laboring and brawling his entire life. I flinch at the sight of my own hands—dry and cracked between my knuckles, one of the minor brutalities Agathoran winters inflict on humans.
Before I lose my courage, I meet his gaze. "Look. We barely know each other. Let's not make this more difficult than it has to be. Think about it. There must be someone else more suitable for you—for both of us."
Axe attempts to suppress a growl. His hands are clenched so hard that the knuckles blanch. My fingers softly glide over the joints, igniting an electric current. Strange. There are fresh puncture marks along his arm, one just shy of marring the raven tattoo.
"I can't afford to stay in one place for too long. I can't go back home either. No matter where I settle, trouble isn't far behind . . . I don’t want anyone else to get hurt."
Axe takes his hand out from under me. My heart throbs with a pinch of remorse.
