Page 118 of UNAwere

‘No, you won’t.’ She throws an arm around my shoulder. ‘Consider it a welcoming gift. Or a “congrats on being my brother’s mate” gift.’ She snorts. ‘Or a “condolences on being my brother’s mate” gift.’

I grin, thinking of Jude. It was nice. Not having him constantly in my mind while I shopped and talked with Hannah. Not because I don’t want him there, but because the crushing weight of his presence is too much to bear when I know I can’t have him. So to have the distraction has been good.

‘I’ve called Lucas,’ Hannah says when we walk outside.

The weather’s turned dreary, and the sky is a grey threat of rain.

‘I can run back,’ I tell her.

‘Nah, you’ll get wet. And you’ve got your dress.’ She nods to the bag I’m holding. ‘We’ll head home and get ready for Warner’s arrival. He wants to have dinner.’

I swallow thickly. ‘Cool. Dinner. That’s easy.’

Hannah eyes me. ‘Warner won’t do anything with you until the ceremony.’

I nod. ‘Okay.’

Lucas arrives in a dark SUV, and Hannah and I get in. I sit in the back and gaze out the window as he drives us to the house, chatting with Hannah about something. But I’m not listening, my stomach cramping at the thought of dinner tonight and the bonding ceremony being so close. And Jude.

My heart physically hurts at the thought of him. And it feels like my soul is going to rip itself from my body, with how much it needs to see him. Be with him. Close. Inside. Against. Anywhere but away, like I am right now.

I close my eyes and press my forehead against the cool window, taking a deep breath.

Keep going. For Luminaire. For Nolan. For Maeve.

Hannah leaves me to go shower and change in my room, and I head back, taking my time as I rinse off. I throw my hair up in a messy bun and then climb into the dress she bought me. And then I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at the painting that hangs on the wall across from it.

It’s an abstract. Of purples and oranges. And as much as I like art, I can’t quite tell how this one makes me feel. Whether I love it or hate it.

I tilt my head to the side.

Someone knocks on my door, snapping me back to the present.

I get up, heart racing, and open it.

‘Warner,’ I say, taking a step back.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, dressed in slacks and a white dress shirt. He looks tired. As if he just got off a plane from somewhere. But his blue eyes are taking me in, and he hums low in his throat.

‘I dreamt of you,’ he murmurs.

I blink. Lick my lips. ‘Oh. Cool…?’

He takes a deep breath, and I realise he’s trying to catch my scent. I quickly take another step back, heart jolting, but he doesn’t seem to catch any whiff of Jude. Instead, he gets off the door and comes into my room. Rain’s falling outside, trickling in droplets down the glass doors on the room’s far wall. It’s all I can hear as Alpha Warner takes another step closer.

‘Sybil Palmer, why am I all of a sudden thinking about you?’ he asks.

‘Um, well… We just… met. And maybe I made an impression with my, um, delightful charm?’ I skirt back, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care, still continuing to close the distance between us.

‘I can’t get you out of my head.’

‘Oh. Like an earworm.’ The back of my legs hit the end of the bed, and I almost topple onto it, but his hand snatches out and catches my wrist. Bruising. ‘Y’know, they say if something’s stuck in your head, like a song, you can get it out by making a finale out of it. Like a loud crescendo. An end. Maybe I can just, like, yell really loud and see if that helps you—?’

‘Stop talking.’ He pulls me against his chest, and I squeak.

Warner’s hand enters my hair, and he tilts my face up towards his, breathing heavily, his eyes half-lidded. And I realise, too late, that he’s staring at my mouth and he wants to kiss me.

‘Warner, shouldn’t you wait until—?’