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"Mark and Amara are having lunch by the lake. We'll join them, and Lucy can meet you there when you two are ready to head into town," he says plainly.
There is no question or request behind it, but it feels too soft to consider it an order. Though he doesn't say much, when he does speak, he says things simply and shamelessly. I'm not sure exactly why I find it reassuring, but I nod timidly, glancing over my shoulder as he stands from the piano.
Before we leave, I can't help but wonder, "Does... does the enchantment on the villa create the flowers in the garden? Or does it just maintain the grounds?"
He stops, looking over my shoulder at the greenery behind me. "A bit of both. The plants are real, but the spell creates the conditions for them to grow. You're welcome to work in the garden if you like."
I blink in surprise, thinking of how Lucy explained the self-sufficient spell on the Villa du Lac. "Doesn't the magic do all the gardening?"
"Yes, but living things thrive most when they are cared for. Magic or not, I'm sure the garden would appreciate the attention. That is, if you want to," he explains, and I agree so quickly that I nearly trip over myself as I nod in excitement.
We stop only for a moment at the doorway of the hall when Tristan pauses to look down at the daisy I'm still twirling in my hands.
"May I?" he asks, and I hand him the flower obediently.
I suck in a breath as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of wavy blonde hair out of my face, securing the flower's stem behind my ear. I swear I can feel warmth sparking my cheek where the back of his hand brushes against my skin, but before the sensation grows further, he pulls away.
After that, I follow Tristan without another word. He leads me to a veranda overlooking the lake, where Mark and Amara are enjoying what appears to be an extravagant buffet of snack food. The table is covered in plates filled with fresh fruits, nuts, bread, cheeses, and meats.
Mark notices us approaching and glowers, but his mate shoots him a warning glare, and the Beta says nothing as Tristan and I take a seat at the table. We eat in strained silence, and Amara offers me a tight-lipped smile that I can only assume is some kind of peace offering after the tension from the last meal we shared.
When Lucy finally arrives, panting slightly and still in the middle of buttoning up a cardigan, there's an almost imperceptible exhale of relief from those of us gathered at the table. I can tell I'm not the only one who finds Lucy's cheery and personable demeanor a welcome distraction from the Rovers' brooding Beta and his hauntingly graceful mate.
"Why so serious?" she says with a bright smile, pulling up the chair beside me.
Behind her, a scrawny fellow with bright orange hair and blue eyes trails out onto the veranda, also out of breath. He looks one or two years older than Lucy.
"Hi, I'm Nico." He beams at me as he sits at the table, revealing a lopsided smile and crooked teeth that give him a boyish charm.
The Rogue's Gamma. He's not exactly what I expected.
Tristan radiates power and authority; Mark sits beside him with an imposing sense of boldness and loyalty; and Amara holds her head high with an aura of wisdom and patience that's somehow even more intimidating than her mate's bulky build. Even Lucy, with her warm smile and fondness for gossip, has a wickedly clever glint in her grey eyes that hints at something sharp and devilish under her bubbly surface.
But Nico seems... just... sort of... goofy looking?
"Welcome to the Rover family, flower girl," he says, his bright blue eyes darting to the daisy I'd forgotten was tucked behind my ear.
"Actually," Lucy chimes in, "since we're welcoming a new member to the pack, I thought maybe we could play a little game so our guest can get to know us better."
Tristan sighs and leans back in his chair as Mark groans loudly, and Amara rolls her eyes while Nico makes a sour face. I get the sense that this isn't the first time Lucy has dragged them into something like this. Lucy remains undeterred as she helps herself to some bread and jam. She proceeds to explain her own version of twenty-one questions—one person will ask someone else a question, then that person must answer honestly before choosing the next question for another player.
The premise is simple enough, but the idea of asking them about themselves, and worse, having them ask about me... it's enough to tie my stomach in a knot.
"I'll go first," Lucy proclaims through a mouthful of toast and cheese. "My question is for Mark."
"Oh boy," Nico mutters under his breath as Mark shifts uncomfortably in his seat under his sister's gaze.
"Mark, how did a big doofus like you end up mated to a goddess like that?" Lucy says playfully, a mischievous grin curling her lips as she points between her brother and Amara.
"By not acting like an immature child all the time and taking things seriously," Mark huffs pointedly, brows furrowing over his grey eyes as he sets down the apple he'd been peeling. "But while we're all here playing games and admitting things... Nico, my question is for you. What the hell do you see in my sister that makes you like her so much, and when are you going to do something about it?"
Amara kicks her mate under the table, and you could slice through the silence that follows with a knife. In fact, Lucy looks like she's actually considering it. Her face has turned a furious shade of red, her freckles blending into the rosiness of her cheeks as she stares daggers at her brother.
That was unkind. I do not have to know them well to understand that Mark just crossed an unspoken sort of line, and I can't help but look in Nico's direction.
The red-haired boy has gone rigid in his seat, and after an awkward minute, he unfurls his fingers from the white-knuckled fist he'd clenched them into. Whatever his feelings are for Lucy, it's obviously not something he'd like to discuss openly.
Tristan scowls at his Beta, who seems to instantly regret the low blow toward his sister at Nico's expense. Mark returns his attention to the half-peeled apple, pouting like a child that knows they've said something they shouldn't have.
