The Werewolf Tycoon's Secret Baby (The Woolven Secret Book 2)

by DeWylde,Saranna

  It manifested near the edge of the roman bath, the scents of berries and roses wafting toward them.

  “Oh! And that’s my favorite bath bomb!” she almost squealed. “Wait, Noah isn’t getting spoiled like this, is he? He’ll be a holy terror.”

  “No, not like this. It’s different for young ones. But be aware, he is being spoiled. Just a little bit. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Fine, I won’t put my foot down. Yet.”

  “Put it down, right into the bath.” He went to his wardrobe and pulled out a heather blue t-shirt. “Here. You can put this on when you get out.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes full of things that he wished she were able to say. He didn’t know if that was sorrow or relief. Fear or need. The scent of the bath had overwhelmed his senses, and he didn’t like not knowing what was going on with her emotions.

  It helped him protect her.

  Especially from himself.

  He needed to talk to Lenore about Sebastian Monk. The name was familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

  “I need to talk to Lenore. I’ll be back.”

  “Don’t leave,” she implored through the closed door.

  “I really need to talk to her about Sebastian.”

  “I don’t want to be alone. It can wait until tonight, can’t it? You said we were safe here.” She’d cracked the door to the wet room, and he could see a tendril of her hair clinging to her wet skin.

  “We are.” But it was his job to protect her, to be vigilant. He focused on his breathing, forced the calm to suffuse him. “I won’t go. I’ll stay.”

  This was what she needed from him right now. In her mind, Sebastian wasn’t an immediate threat. She needed to know he’d do what he said. If she could believe it in the short term, she could start believe it in the long term.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  He changed into sweats and sat on the bed waiting for her. It wasn’t long before she emerged, clean and warm, her hair in soft waves around her face. She’d figured out how to manifest the grooming spells, too. Wearing his shirt, she looked every inch his. His wolf agreed, but didn’t rise. He wanted to, but he was ever aware and pained by the fact that his existence frightened her.

  “Maybe you’re a little bit of a witch,” he whispered.

  “Why?” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “If you say you’re under some kind of spell, I’m going to laugh.”

  “Why would you laugh?” His eyes roved over her in blatant regard. “I’m utterly bewitched by you, Emmie. I have been since the moment I first saw you.”

  “I find that so hard to believe.”

  “I know I didn’t tell you who I was, but that’s the only lie I’ll ever tell you.”

  “I know that.” She tapped her heart. “But I don’t know that.” She tapped her temple. “At the end of things, Peter would tell me how ugly I was. How useless. How I was nothing but a drain on him, how I was holding him back. I guess part of me still believes him. I mean, look at you. You could have anyone, yet you say you want me.”

  Goddess, how he hated Peter Fucking Breslin. “There are a million things I could tell you about why I’d want you, but they’ll fall on deaf ears until you see them for yourself. Come here.”

  She walked to him slowly, almost as if she was unsure of her steps. Or her welcome. He held the blanket out and Emmie slid between the silk sheets and curled into him.

  “Rest now, and know there is nothing in the world that can touch you while I’m here.”

  With her hand splayed on his chest over his heart, his mate slept. Her breathing was deep and even, and it lulled him into a sense of peace he’d never had before.

  But it was at war with the rage he felt for Peter Breslin. For this Sebastian Monk. For anything that dared threaten his mate.

  The only thing that kept his beast at bay was the way she curled into him in that perfect, absolute trust.

  He didn’t sleep.

  Instead, he memorized the way she felt in his arms in this moment. Her softness. Her scent. Everything that he wanted to keep with him forever.

  Drew had never asked the Goddess for much. He did his duty to his family and to his pack. He fulfilled his purpose and that made him happy. When he did pray, it was usually for guidance, for how to best help his brother. How to help the pack.

  But in this quiet moment in the darkness, he begged her for this one thing. This woman. He’d never ask for more than that.

  Even as the words echoed inside his head, something changed. It was as if the metaphysical had heard him and locked chains around him.

  Dread set in, curling around him like an anaconda, and he knew that he’d be asked to prove the truth of his words.

  Chapter Eleven

  Emmie knew only one thing when she awoke.

  She was starving. She could eat another steak, maybe even four. It was like her stomach was trying to devour itself from the inside out.

  “There you are, sleepyhead. The girls were texting asking about you. I didn’t know if you were going to make the sleepover.”

  Emmie realized she was in his arms and she wasn’t particularly eager to leave, not even for a steak.

  Her stomach rumbled, disagreeing with her.

  “What do you mean? How long have I been asleep?” She rubbed her eyes. Now that she’d had time to take stock of herself, she felt amazing. It was the first time in years she’d slept without being afraid.

  “Hours.”

  “Noah!”

  “Is fine. He’s having a great time with my uncle. Warner is taking him running. Just like he did with Blake, me and Parker.”

  “Wolfed out?”

  “Yeah.” He kissed the top of her head. “Wolfed out.”

  She nodded. “That’s good. He needs that. I know there’s so much he needs that I can’t give him.”

  “We’ll give him everything he needs together.”

  It was too easy to be here in his arms. Everything about Aphelion was too easy. She had to remember who she was, and what her demons were. She’d already discovered she couldn’t outrun them. They were always with her and, right now, they waited with baited breath in the shadows. Waited for her to decide what she wanted, to reach for it, and to rip it away from her with teeth and claws.

  It was a herculean act, but she pulled away from him, sacrificed her warm, safe place to stand. “I guess I should get ready. Where is my room?”

  “Down the hall. The girls are waiting in your room for you.”

  “The slumber party is in my room? No time to settle in, huh?” She smiled and looked for her clothes, finding them clean and neatly folded.

  “You could take the t-shirt if you wanted. It should help you sleep.”

  “A t-shirt is going to help me sleep?”

  “It smells like me. Like safety. Maybe your mind doesn’t know it yet, but your body does. It’s why you slept so well this afternoon.”

  Emmie wanted to take the shirt with her, in fact, she didn’t want to take it off. Part of her told her this could only lead down a dark road for them both. It was more than simply accepting his shirt. More than his protection. It was admitting she knew that she was his mate. Somehow, she knew that it was about wearing his scent. Belonging to him.

  In the hazy afterglow of the bliss that was sleeping in his arms, belonging to him didn’t sound like such a bad thing.

  And if sleeping next to him wrought this much bliss in her, what would sex be like?

  Her body responded to the question, flooding with heat and ache that she thought never to feel again. The fear didn’t come, the nightmare images of what writhed beneath his skin. Was it possible that she could have this?

  Him?

  Did she dare?

  He was physically affected by the change in the air. His eyes had gone amber and bright, and he turned away from her.

  Guilt shot frigid arrows into her chest. He had to hide who he was, what he was, because of her fears.

  Her weakn
esses.

  She was determined to change this. How could be a good mother to her son if she was afraid of what he was?

  Emmie wasn’t afraid of him now, but when he grew to a man, he’d be a giant hulking beast just like what she feared. And she’d never be able to bear seeing him cut off a part of himself, hide it, to please another.

  Especially not a mate.

  A partner should glory in everything that makes their love who they are.

  Including big, scary beasties.

  “Be patient with me, Drew. I swear, it won’t be like this forever. I’ll find a way to be strong.”

  “Oh, Emmie.” His voice was deep, guttural and she knew the Change was near.

  She wouldn’t lie to herself. Part of her wanted to run, but she was done running. At least from Drew. This wasn’t who she wanted to be. Not just for him, not just for Noah, but for herself.

  “Right now, I need you to go.”

  “Okay.” She turned to walk away, but something stopped her.

  No, this wasn’t what he needed. Her running away again, that’s what this was—him giving her permission to flee.

  Fuck that.

  “No. I’m not leaving.”

  “Emmie, I can’t—”

  “You shouldn’t have to.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin before crawling back onto the bed. Emmie put her hand on his shoulder. “Show me.”

  “You don’t want that.”

  “Don’t tell me what I want. Show me.”

  “Okay, I don’t want it.” His voice had dropped another octave. “I can’t explain to you how awful it is to every part of me that you fear me. I can’t bear the weight of your fear of me right now.”

  “Then let’s put it to rest. At least, let me try.”

  He turned to her ever so slowly, his amber eyes bright and glowing.

  She forced herself to look into them, and there she saw only Drew. Nothing so hateful or awful. Even when her mind flashed back to when he’d Changed, the beast beneath his skin. Fear spiked, but she pushed through it and reached out to touch his face.

  This was the father of her child.

  This was a man who claimed to value her above his own life.

  She wanted to be worthy.

  “Your eyes are beautiful.”

  “And you’re still afraid.”

  She wouldn’t lie to him. “I am afraid, but less so than before. And I’m more than a little turned on.”

  “Then kiss me.”

  Emmie held his gaze for what seemed like eternity before she moved. Then she straddled him and the evidence of his need for her was blatant and hard. Desire curled low in her belly and she braced her hands on his shoulders.

  Her chest constricted and she couldn’t breathe, but it wasn’t because she was afraid. It was because she felt so damn good.

  Her lips descended to his and at first, it was only the lightest of touches. It wasn’t even really a kiss at all. Not until she allowed herself to feel the way her mouth molded to his, so hard and unforgiving, yet still somehow so lush. She loved his mouth. Loved the way it felt to be with him like this.

  It was nothing at all like the fantasies where she revisited Santorini. There’d been something innocent about Santorini and there was nothing innocent in what she felt now—this was all primal carnality.

  His shoulders were bigger now, somehow. His skin was hot, so hot he was on fire. His hands, it seemed they were bigger too. And his cock… she didn’t quite know.

  He was Changing.

  And she wasn’t afraid.

  Okay, that was a lie, she was a little afraid, maybe a lot, but more important than her fear was Drew. He needed this from her, and damn it, she was going to give it to him.

  He broke away from the kiss. “Goddess, woman. Neither of us are ready for that.”

  His eyes were still amber, but the rest of him seemed to be human Drew. Except for his cock. If she hadn’t brought ten pounds of baby werewolf into the world, she’d be worried that there was no way that was going to work.

  “Ready for what?” she managed, breathless.

  “We haven’t even had sex as humans, you’re not ready for my beast. But he took you seriously. He wanted to see you and be seen. He wanted to touch you.” He cupped her breasts.

  “Taste me?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  Instead of igniting fear, she giggled. “I like the way that sounds.”

  “Do you?” He cocked his head to the side.

  Drew was every inch the apex predator in this moment. There was something unearthly about the cant to his head, the burning coals in his eyes, and the way he looked at her.

  She shivered.

  “I’ll have to show you the flower.”

  “What flower?” She licked her lips, tasting their kiss and wanting more.

  “It comes from the old country, a strain of carnivorous monkshood that acts as an aphrodisiac on human women.”

  “And you have this flower?” The idea of it appealed to her.

  “I do. It’s at the heart of the maze outside. I could show you.”

  “In the moonlight?”

  “Anytime you’d like to see it. You see, it’s for cases such as ours.”

  “Then I want to see it, Drew.” She brushed her lips across his again, all the while staring into amber light of his eyes.

  The heat in them faded, as did the animal that had been staring back at her.

  “You should go.”

  “You don’t want me to stay?” She rolled her hips against him.

  “This almost happened between us several times, but every time we stopped. Because it wasn’t right. It still isn’t, no matter how much I want it to be. I want you to stay, but I want you to stay forever. One evening in this bed isn’t the foundation of forever. Family is. So go meet your sisters.”

  “You’re disgustingly perfect.”

  “Except for the werewolf part.”

  “No, even that. It makes you who you are. I promise, I’ll find my way.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You’re my mate, Emmie. I’ll wait until the stars are nothing in the sky.”

  “You really are an artist, the colors you paint with your words.”

  “I’m not painting a picture, I’m confessing. I’m giving you power over me. I’m giving you everything.”

  “I know.” She crawled from him. “Maybe after tonight, I could sleep with you again.”

  “You’re always welcome.”

  “Walk me to my doom—I mean, room?”

  “Doom? You don’t like girl’s nights?”

  “I never really had them. It wasn’t how I grew up, but I’ll try something new. Even though Randi scared the shit out of me, I like her. I admire her. She’s so… everything about her is so… I don’t want to say brash. That’s not the right word. That implies she’s abrasive. She’s not. She’s so vibrant. From her hair, to her personality, to her presence.” Emmie exhaled. “I guess I’m worried they won’t like me.”

  “The women in this pack are not mean girls. They’re grown women who love their families, and now that includes you.”

  “You can love someone without liking them.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Drew asked.

  “Are you going to walk me or not?”

  “I think I’m supposed to ask you that question.” He looked at her pointedly.

  “Did you just make a dog joke?” Emmie snorted.

  “Maybe. Did you just like it?”

  “Maybe?” She grinned. “So are you going to? Come on. I’m already nervous. If we don’t go now, I’m going to crawl right back in bed with you.”

  “That’s incentive to get me moving, how?” Drew flashed her a wicked grin.

  “Because catastrophe looms. Like you said, we’ve tried to get started several times and if it’s not me losing my mind, it’s scary hooded guys watching us—past us—do the dirty—”

  “Come on, admit
it. Don’t you think the idea of watching past us is just a little bit hot?”

  Heat washed over her and she knew her cheeks had to be pink. “It’s a lot hot.”

  “I should have some tacky mirrors installed on the ceiling…”

  “No. I think not. I don’t want to watch us now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because old lady me and young, hard bodied you.” She didn’t want to look him in the face now. Didn’t want to have to rehash her insecurities.

  “Old lady? There’s not much difference in five years, Em. Hate to break it to you.”

  “These hips have obviously birthed a child.”

  “And they’re beautiful. Look, we need to get you an inspirational bracelet or something. W.W.R.D. What would Randi do?”

  She laughed again. Laughter came more frequently around him, she realized. As would anything with feet…

  “Randi seems like the type to not only watch the mirror, but to film herself doing it.”

  “You could ask her. Slumber party talk.”

  “Shut up, I’m not going to ask her that.”

  “And she has nice hips. Like you,” he continued on as if she hadn’t spoken.

  “Like me? No, I’m nothing like her. She’s tall, statuesque, even. And curvy like a dangerous road. Me? I’m lumpy.”

  Drew roared with laughter. “Woman, you are not lumpy. Why would you ever—” Then he stopped and the light tone of the moment was gone. “I’m glad that bastard is going to die. I only wish I could be the one to kill him.”

  “I do, too. I wish it could be me. But I know that won’t stop his voice in my head. He’ll be nothing but ash, and I’ll still hear him listing off my litany of sins. I used to wonder if I’d done something horrible in a past life to deserve him. Like lit an orphanage on fire and kicked the kids while they were down.”

  “Did you take their candy, too?” Drew asked. “You didn’t deserve any of this.”

  “Maybe I do. I can’t cherry pick my fate, can I? Without all of this, I wouldn’t have Noah. Sorry for that quick peek at my pity party. I try to cancel it, but sometimes the show goes on anyway.”

  “All the more reason for you to go tonight.”

  “I said I’d go. I’m slightly terrified.”