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FIVE
THE GUEST BEDROOM
Mina
* * *
What was I doing?And where did my sudden confidence come from?
Even as I asked Ivor to stay with me, my wolf was shocked into silence. I was throwing away my reputation, but I wasn't even sure if I cared anymore.
My mother would be horrified, but my intense need to be mated and bred had reached a crescendo. At this point, I would strip down in the town square and let Ivor take me for all to see if it meant I didn't have to survive another year alone. My wolf was sick of waiting.
And Ivor was mine.
I knew it from the first moment I saw him.
"I'll be right back," Ivor said, pausing in the doorway. He was massive, the top of his head grazing the doorframe. "I'm just going to check the other rooms for firewood."
I nodded, not taking my eyes off the door until it clicked firmly behind him. I took a calming breath, smoothing my hands through my hair, thankful for the chance to collect myself. I was still flustered by his unbelievable kiss. It wasn't my first, but it was definitely the best.
Rocking forward a bit, I glanced out the window. It was already getting dark, the storm making the building creak and groan. I was fairly toasty wrapped up in the thick blanket, but I still shivered at the achy sounds the old lodge made.
Feeling a little restless, I slipped off the bed, and the cold immediately made my knees shake. I cursed myself for leaving my leggings in the kitchen. Running my fingertips over the bandage on my leg, I smiled, and my heart fluttered a little harder at the memory of Ivor's warm hands as he tended to me.
Rushing to the other side of the room, I lit the only lantern that held any oil, then set about looking for more blankets. At the bottom of the wardrobe, I found a few extra throws and some small pillows, and the cedar chest held a very heavy and enormous quilt. I groaned as I hauled it toward the bed, half of it trailing across the floor.
The pillows were all wildly different shapes and colors, but they were clearly omega-made. They were puffy with careful stitching and very little detail, perfect for lining a nest without any uncomfortable beads or zippers. Once the pillows were in place, I spread out the blankets, patting and forming a decent shape. The fabric was soft and pleasant, but they smelled of mothballs and dust. I rubbed the edge of the quilt against my throat, trying to fix the scent.
"Are you okay?" Ivor asked, stepping back into the room. He had a tray in one hand and a bundle of small logs under his arm. A small knitted blanket was draped over his shoulder. I could tell from here that it smelled infinitely better than the ones I was sitting on.
Noticing the snow clinging to the ends of his long hair, I asked, "Did you go downstairs?" I looked him over for any signs of cuts or injury. It might have been stupid of me to think such a strong alpha could get hurt so easily, but there was a lot of broken glass down there, and Ivor was barefoot.
Rising onto my knees, I looked down at his feet. He didn’t have any cuts or scratches. They looked perfectly fine….and big. Everything about him was big.
"You need to eat," he said simply. He eyed the bed, concern pulling his brows together. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again.
"Yes." I smiled. "Why do you keep asking?" I pulled the knit blanket off his shoulder, careful not to hit the tray still perched in his hand.
"You're building a nest," he said cautiously, setting the bundle of wood on the floor. "Omegas make nests when they're distressed."
I pressed my lips together, trying to stifle a laugh. Ivor was an only child, and both his parents were alphas. His experience with omegas was clearly limited. "We build nests for lots of reasons." I brought the blanket up to my nose, and Ivor's rich scent washed over me. His warm aroma was earthy, like toasted hazelwood and blazing embers. It made something pleasant twist deep inside me. I inhaled again, wanting to chase the feeling.
"Where should I put the tray?" Ivor eyed the mound of pillows and blankets around me.
I patted a firm pillow on the corner, then smiled wide at what he brought me. There were dried meats, an assortment of nuts and dried berries, a slice of honey cake, and one very out-of-place turnip. I picked up the vegetable, smiling wide at the alpha.
"I wanted to make sure I got all your favorite foods." The tips of his white canines were slightly pointed, making my tummy flutter. He placed a hand over his heart, then asked in a formal manner, "May I come into your nest?"
My wolf purred, and I nodded. The bed dipped, and my skin tingled as the heat from his big body warmed my side. He was so close, pulling the tray toward me. I couldn't help but stare at his profile. His nose was long and angular—a bump in the center telling me he had broken it at some point. His lips were full, and he had a faint scar on his cheekbone.
"How did you get this?" I asked, barely brushing my finger over the mark. The brief contact made my whole body tingle, and I swore I saw goosebumps rise along his arms.
"Bumblebees," he said, popping a dried cherry into his mouth.
"You have to tell me how." I leaned in, needing to hear how a tiny bug could leave such a mark.
"I was a pup," he sighed sweetly, "only three or four and was running from a bumblebee. I smacked right into a low-hanging branch." He smiled sheepishly at the memory, and I wanted nothing more than for him to kiss me again. "I tell everyone it was from a fight, though. A scar from a fist is much more respectable than barreling head-first into a tree."
