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“How long?”
“I’m not sure.”
Pulling back just enough to meet my eyes, he gives me a small, resolute smile. “Can I escort you?”
“No.” Witches have been hunted by wolves because of the lies fed by the fae king. The last thing I want is to scare those living on our lands—the women who’ve been hurt and abused by the same people who killed my parents. “Now isn’t the right time.”
“Then so be it.” That’s it. No arguing. Instead, he removes my arms and then gathers himself at the corner of his bed while I watch, unsure of what just happened. One second, he’s not letting me go, and the next, he’s holding a hand out to help me off the large, four-poster bed. “Would you be willing to say goodbye to my Mum? She’s been asking about you.”
“Of course.”
“Then come. They’re expecting us in the grand hall.”
* * *
We didn’t head down right away as Xadiel prepared a bath for me first; the large claw-foot tub filled to the brim with warm water and expensive oils was heaven. A new bar of soap, a washcloth, and small cup of tea all sat atop the tray near the edge and right by the faucet. The piece was large enough to extend from side to side and made of wood, the craftsmanship exquisite, as was the rest of the large bathroom.
One would think it to be sterile, the all-while motif stark, but there’s warmth in the simplicity. From the white stone flooring to the walls and even the filigree work near the large window at the center all made the room inviting. Soothing. Home.
Can’t deny it. Lying to myself is an impossibility.
I knew what coming here meant and what was at stake—my heart—but came anyway because saving him from the path of destruction is worth it all. My life. My powers, if it came down to it.
Yet it still stings. Xadiel will always be my greatest joy or destruction.
That was thirty minutes ago, and now, I’m standing beside Xadiel in a lovely off-the-shoulder floor-length dress in a light mint color. The material is soft and a bit ruffled, elegant and simple, yet the split over the leg without my tattoo shows just enough to be sexy.
I like it. A lot. So does the man beside me who hasn’t stopped starting at me from the corner of his eyes. Not since he knocked on the bedroom door, the same one I’d been given by Cain a few nights ago, while holding a single red rose.
His groan of approval turned hungry growl rather quickly. More so because I’d refused to let him scent me again.
“Going home is the right thing,” I whisper under my breath, yet he hears and stiffens, but then it’s too late as the ornate doors open and all eyes are on us. Every single pack member from that fiasco or a dinner is in attendance, and the hostile attitude is gone.
I’m met with submission. With bared necks.
One by one, the werewolves drop to their knees as Xadiel leads me toward another dais, this time with four chairs, and the two at the center are unoccupied. His parents are already there, watching us with matching grin and Goddess, what a difference a few days make.
His mother looks healthier. There’s a touch of pink on her cheeks, and it’s not makeup. Instead, the glow comes from the way her husband sends subtle winks in her direction. From seeing her only child walk in and hug her once we’re close a few second later.
They exchange words, smiles, but then both look in my direction.
Without noticing, I’m shifting from foot to foot at the step leading up, the sandals on my feet making a short clicking sound. My nerves are getting the best of me, and I want to leave. I feel the pinprick of a thousand needles rise across my flesh.
It’s too soon to be back here, and I rub my wrist while meeting her eyes. Not his. “I think it’s best I take my leave now.”
Whimpers come from the werewolves; their distress eats at me.
I know what it means, and I’m not ready.
“Leave?” His mother’s brow furrows, shifting her gaze from me to Xadiel. “Where are you going, Isa? Who’s accompanying her?”
“I’m needed at home.”
“But I thought you’re his—”
“There’s something important she needs to take care of with her siblings, Mum. Isabella will be back.” Her son’s tone leaves no room for argument, and I’m thankful she lets it go. Even if it’s to stand up, her equilibrium is still shaky and her husband and Xadiel rush to help her, both grumbling when she slaps their hands away. The act is simple, but to see two men chastised by the petite woman is hilarious.
A giggle slips from me, and it’s as if I physically breathed air into the room. At once it lightens and the oppressive cloak lifts, giving me the much-needed relief. As luna, by desire or default, I have no choice in the connection that appeared the second their alpha and I met.
