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I stood at the bottom of the wide staircase and marveled at the massive building. Up close, I could make out the cream color of the walls and see that the windows had been repaired, but the design remained. The building had clearly been renovated with the intent of preserving its rustic charm.
I was itching to see the inside. I imagined mahogany floors and stone walls, maybe even a few priceless pieces of art hanging on the walls.
On either side of the front doors were rows and rows of flower assortments, all in bloom. Lucy Ambrose’s doing, no doubt.
She was well known for being a flower fanatic and responsible for the floral arrangements in AMH's reception area, even sometimes donating her flowers to charities. She could have been an incredible florist if she wanted to, but she herself had admitted in an interview a few years ago that she enjoyed being a housewife, and felt that flowers would become stressful if she made working with them a full-time profession.
No wonder Sariel thought I didn’t belong at AMH. He’d grown up in a place like this. While I had been raised in a middle-class household with two working parents and had my own room, my upbringing paled in comparison to his.
I frowned at the double doors as I continued to wait. Maybe they couldn’t see me from the bottom step.
Just as I reached the top step, I heard the unmistakable grunt of someone falling. I froze, head whipping towards the left side of the house, where the flower garden disappeared behind the corner.
A low curse broke through the quiet, followed by another grunt and the rustling of plants. I moved before I could stop myself, retracing my steps until I was back at the bottom and rounding the corner.
Sariel Ambrose stood amidst his mother’s flowers, covered in leaves and bougainvillea petals. Hair hidden beneath a black baseball cap, he wore a dark jean jacket over a graphic t-shirt, black jeans, and thick boots to match.
He didn’t see me until I lost my fight against the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“Aria?” His eyes narrowed at me as he attempted to maneuver his way out of the garden.
So, Mr. Ambrose hadn’t informed his son about his intention to hire me. “Sariel.”
“What are you doing here, little wolf?”
“I was invited,” I answered cryptically as he stepped over the roses and onto the path. A duffel bag hung from one of his hands and keys from the other.
His eyebrows disappeared into his cap at my words, then they furrowed, his jaw clenching as he studied me. “Invited?”
I crossed my arms, not missing the way his eyes dropped to my cleavage and lingered. “Yes, by Mr. Ambrose.”
“So you’re with them?” he spat, and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes—more dramatic assumptions from him.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about, Sariel—”
“You’re not here with them? The other fallen-blood wolves in the house? Don’t play dumb with me, little wolf,” he growled.
The sound of voices drifted through the open window he’d just jumped from, and he reached for me, quickly dragging me into him and trapping us against the wall. I glanced under his arm and frowned at the state of his mother’s flowers.
“What the hell are you talking about, Sariel?” I asked, lowering my voice at the end of the question when he hissed at me to be quiet.
The voices got louder, and my brows furrowed when he slapped his palm over my mouth.
The sensation awakened something in my gut when I finally realized that I was squished between his big body and the side of the house, one of his hands pressed into the wall beside my head.
He leaned forward, his warmth and scent enveloping me. I tensed at his proximity, but then my eyes drooped reflexively, and my wolf stretched and rolled over, baring her underside forhim. I didn’t have the presence of mind to remind her that this was the same man she had wanted to fight less than a day ago.
I found myself leaning into his warmth, inhaling deeply and filling my lungs with his scent.
I was so distracted, I barely heard his chuckle. He released me abruptly, and I yelped as I pitched forward, colliding with him. He dropped his duffel and grabbed me by the shoulders. “You’re not with those men, are you, Aria?”
I blinked stupidly at him. “What?”
“Tell me why you’re here. Why did Azazel invite you?”
“He…” I licked my lips nervously at the intensity of his gaze. “He wanted to offer me my job back. The one you got me fired from?”
I shook my head to clear the fog that had clouded it from being so close to him. I jerked out of his hold and stumbled into the wall.
