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I smell Micah’s anger, likely at Atticus bringing it up, and I can sense the regret coming from my Alpha lion when he sees the way my face has dropped.
But he’s got nothing to be upset about. It’s something we need to talk about, especially since it’s this weekend, and I know they’ve likely all been talking about it behind my back as they continue to walk on eggshells around me.
I’m not saying they shouldn’t, since I do still need the hand holding, but that doesn’t really help matters if I’m kept in the dark about them.
“I was thinking about texting him,” I mention, and both men raise their eyebrows—Micah with his thick bushy ones that I’ve still yet to pluck, and Atticus with his thin ones—and widen their eyes.
Am I that terrible at making decisions that they’re this surprised?
Or maybe… maybe they think I’m lying?
I’m not, though. It’s the truth. I know his ceremony is coming up, and I can’t really put this decision off any longer.
George and I talked about this in detail during my last session. After, you know, him bringing it up a week ago and me avoiding it.
When they don’t say anything, I hesitantly add, “Um, if that’s okay.”
My voice is shaky, so unconfident, and Atticus notices.
He nods, but I must still look dubious because he gives me a soft smile.
Atticus’s smiles are one of my favourite things, but these ones? The ones full of patience and love? They’re my absolute favourite.
“Nora, love, that’s not my decision to make,” Atticus says, “Ever. I only brought the ceremony up because I wanted to get plans put into place depending on what we decide.”
“I think… I think I want to talk to him first before I decide whether I want to go or not.”
“That’s smart,” Micah says, and I turn to him. He winks at me and shrugs when I raise an eyebrow. Why is he being so secretive? “My parents and I don’t have a great relationship, but if we were ever going to have to see any of my extended family again, I’d like to at least talk to them before seeing them so that I can fish out the vibes. David gave you a letter, and it’s a lot easier to lie that way. Hell, he might not have even written it.”
That’s it. I nod slowly and squeeze his hand. “What’s wrong with your family? Why don’t you guys get along?”
Is it weird to say that I never once considered their family? Atticus’s parents are dead, as are Voss’s. Griffin’s parents are lovely, his dad the reason I’m still alive, but the others?
I feel like a fool. I never once thought to ask about Micah and Malachi’s parents, or even Orson’s.
Micah’s ebony eyes rake over my face, and he shakes his head softly. “You don’t need to feel guilty, pretty girl.”
“I do, though,” I reply, surmising we’re using the mind link so he doesn’t need to air this in front of Atticus. “I’m sorry, Romeo.”
“Ask Kai about our family, pretty girl. It’s not my story to tell,” he says softly, and my eyes widen. “Regardless, though, I think you’re making a brave decision, and I support you no matter what you decide.”
“What’s a brave decision?” Orson asks, coming in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. To my surprise, Atticus gets the coffee, and I get the tea. The surprise is that Atticus’s coffee mug is nearly empty, and Orson just… knew.
I don’t know why this continues to surprise me. Orson’s always on top of the house and those who are in it. My tea is made with honey instead of sugar or sweetener because I much prefer it that way.
I never once told him.
He just knew. If I thought shifters had superpowers, I’d presume Orson’s was telepathy or even foresight.
But we don’t, and that only makes him even more superhuman to me.
“Thank you,” I murmur, smiling up at him. Orson returns the smile, after giving me a chaste kiss, before repeating his question. “I was thinking about texting David.”
He falls silent, musing the decision over, before nodding. Orson’s luscious blonde hair is down today, and it looks brighter in the natural light from the window behind him. He’s wearing a pair of joggers, grey ones, which do all kinds of things to my traitorous wolf, and a large hoodie.
And since it’s large on him, it must be a few X’s before the L.
I so badly want to steal it. It’ll be like a lemon and lime scented blanket full of warmth and comfort, with the added bonus of Orson’s masculine scent to soothe the wolf within.
