AllFreeNovel
Share Us
TEN
OLIVER
Oliver was reluctant to leave Callum’s estate without Lillian. His body was coated in her scent. His body ached to consume her even though they’d had each other multiple times in fewer than twenty-four hours. It was as if something had possessed him, even more potent than the heat of the full moon.
But he didn’t completely hate it. Albeit torturous, his longing was satisfying. It gave him something to cling to as he drove away from the estate, her scent sticking to him like glue.
The sun had risen and swept over the forest, glistening with morning dew that slid from the canopy like sparkling diamonds. The emerald shade of the evergreens shimmered. The glow of the sun painted the landscape with surreal, pulsing, vivid hues.
Oliver felt foolish. He had been betrayed by the cosmic gods. They had deceived him by making his mate a human. An artist, an independent thinker who was wonderfully spontaneous and zesty.
With half a mind to delete her number, Oliver slid his phone out of his pocket when he arrived home. He drove through the winding roads around the mountainside. The sun had crested over the horizon many hours before. The alpha ran his finger over her name.
Lillian Robinson.
That blazing red hair stood out like a flare in the dead, frozen tundra of his existence. Her beauty was unmatched. Her intrigue and his curiosity were bottomless. He would be a fool to keep her around. Wouldn’t it be best to have her locked in his mind? A sweet memory to comb over at his leisure rather than a permanent fixture to fruitlessly pine over?
But then Oliver remembered what had also happened last night. Uziel, a bear shifter and art dealer who clearly expressed sinister intentions toward his mate, had tried to hurt her right in front of him and lost rather pitifully. But he could and would likely try again. This time, without Oliver there to protect her.
No. He couldn’t abandon her like that. Even if she wasn’t his, any harm that would come to Lillian was like a branding on his heart. Shifters were in servitude to their mate whether they were bonded or not. He would gladly live a life of utter misery as long as it meant she was safe.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket, realizing he had been musing for a while.
Outside on the glossy varnished porch was Oliver’s good friend Quintin. He had his feet up on the swinging chair with a book in his hand. The clatter of cooking and giggling children whispering through the open window was serene and comforting.
Quintin grinned at Oliver. He had a playfulness that Oliver liked, which juxtaposed perfectly with his stoicism. Ronnetta was Quintin's wife, also a bear shifter, who had the same vitality, proactivity, and liveliness that Quintin exemplified.
When Quintin spotted him, he lit up. It was an endearing response that would make anyone feel valued. That was one of Quintin’s many gifts.
“I was wondering where you were,” he said, laying his book open on his legs. “You’re usually back when we come over for breakfast. I still think it would make more sense if you just stayed at Callum’s and ate there, but what the hell do I know? How did it go, anyway?”
Oliver let out a grunt. There was no point in lying to the man. He was his confidant, after all. Plus, he and Ronnetta were masters in the art of truth extraction.
“A lot happened. Too much, actually. Where’s your wife? I’m sure she’ll want in on this.”
Quintin got to his feet, his sea-blue eyes still shining.
“Color me intrigued,” he said. “She’s making breakfast. Come on, let’s get this out before the kids get too hungry and start complaining.”
They headed inside. Ronnetta was exactly where her husband said she would be, inside Oliver’s private kitchen opposite the lounge that connected to his study.
Oliver's estate was humble for a man of his wealth and stature. It looked more like a homey, wooded cabin than anything luxurious or particularly grandiose. It wasn’t his style, nor was it the style of the bear clan. Nevertheless, there was an abundance of bedrooms and options for the kids to get lost in, including the library and a playroom with an indoor slide.
He assumed that was where the kids were when he and his beta walked into the kitchen. Ronnetta’s long raven-black hair was tied back in a ponytail as she floated from the stove to the microwave and then to the polished silver coffee maker. She was working on a feast, having taken supplies from the private stash that Oliver ordered weekly from the online grocery stores.
“Help yourself,” he said with a grin.
Ronnetta turned from the stove where sausage and bacon sizzled. She gave Oliver a saucy look, then brightened when she saw her husband. They truly were made for each other.
“He's finally come up for air,” she teased him. “Come on, get some coffee.”
They embraced, and then Quintin walked over to the coffee pot. He poured three mugs, the smooth caramel, and earth essence drifting through the air. The men sat on stools behind the island while Ronnetta stood. Oliver took a few sips, the saccharine flavor warming his belly.
It centered him and calmed him from the jittery drive home. He didn’t realize he had closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he felt both Quintin and Ronnetta’s saucer-sized eyes on him.
“What?” he asked, his voice clipped.
“Tell us,” Quintin urged, grinning with excitement.
