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Everleigh drops her head on my shoulder. She’s quietly snoring a split second later.
“…hanging around,” I finish.
I stare down into as much of her sleeping face as I can see. Then, moving slowly so as not to wake her, I shift her in my arms, reach for the handle, and after twisting, push the door open.
The room smells overwhelmingly like Everleigh. I slow my steps, wanting to absorb her scent, her presence in this room—and in our house—where she belongs, for just a little longer.
I hesitate in front of the closet. Aware I’m already overstepping, I decide against putting her in her nest and head for the bed instead.
I get my first surprise when I pull the sheet back so I can put her in it.
I knew she’d taken the pencil and sketchpad from the dining room after I’d cooked for her.
Cian, Kylian, and I had talked about Everleigh’s strange hand hiding reaction when she’d seen the pencil. We all thought it must be another case of Lawrence controlling her and decided we’d leave her drawing as something that was hers. If she wanted to talk about it, we’d talk, but otherwise, we’d pretend we didn’t know she’d taken the pencil and sketchpad into her room.
I discover both under her comforter when I move to slip her under it.
I get my next surprise when I move the sketchpad aside, and the front page slides open, revealing…
“Me.”
I’m in the kitchen, tossing the contents of the pan up, a hint of shrimp in sight. A wide grin stretches my lips, and my eyes are half-lidded as I peer at the observer with more than a hint of interest. Everleigh caught that look just right. She caughtmejust right.
She said no one taught her how to draw. If that’s true, I’m holding a gift in my arms. More of one than I already believed Everleigh was.
“You’re not just an artist, cher,” I breathe. “You’re a fucking genius.”
Instinctively, my arms tighten around her as I brush my lips across the top of her head, dragging her perfect scent deep into my lungs.
She’s ours. And no part of me wants to let her go, but if we force her to stay, we prove we’re just like Lawrence.
Nudging the sketchpad under the pillow, I carefully place Everleigh onto the cool sheets before pulling the comforter over her.
I’ve never wanted anything more than to slip beneath those sheets and gather her into my arms. I strangle the urge. She gave me permission to enter but not to stay.
When I told Everleigh that I’ve been starving, I wasn’t lying. I’ve been starving for her presence for years. She’s here, and I want her more with each passing day.
But I need Everleigh to be happy and to feel safe more than seeing to my needs.
So I drop a soft kiss on her forehead and rise, leaving her to sleep. And I hope—I’ve neverstoppedhoping—that we can convince her to stay.
Chapter31
Everleigh
Iblink my eyes open, rubbing sleep from them as I frown at my surroundings. I’m in my room, a place I have no memory of falling asleep in, and I’m tucked under the comforter in a bed I haven’t spent a single night.
Until now.
I remember Rune holding me, the hesitant note in his voice, and waking long enough to give him permission to enter omega territory.
That feels like a big deal. A bigger deal than my decision to stop wrestling a bedside table in front of the door, hoping it would be enough to keep three alphas out.
Have they won my trust?
I don’t know, but the need to leave—the will towantto leave them—is fading fast.
I slide my palm over the cool sheets, wanting to get more comfortable to consider exactly how I feel about trusting Pack Ashe. My fingers collide with something flat and hard under my pillow.
