When I reached the door to the office, I frowned at the light that spilled out from the bottom. Inhaling, Roarke’s woodsy scent was strong. What was he doing up so late?
“Oria?” his voice called as I turned to leave.
I hesitated before pushing the door open, spotting my Alpha behind his desk with the lamp on. He smiled and waved me in. My hands twisted nervously in front of me but I forced myself to meet his eyes.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Suddenly I found myself wishing I’d put proper clothes on. The nightgown I was wearing was flimsy, almost see-through, and the fluffy white dressing gown with its unicorn horn on the hood wasn’t exactly appropriate. My cheeks flushed.
“You’re not disturbing me,” he protested, motioning to the seat in front of his desk.
Sitting, I struggled not to give in to the urge to drop my head and shoulders, to curl in on myself in his presence. I wanted to keep him proud of me and did my best to keep my eyes on his. Roarke however, was relaxed, leaning back in his big leather chair. It didn’t feel so much like sitting before an Alpha wolf.
“You should be in bed, are you all right?” he asked, his face creasing in concern.
I shifted, wondering if I should tell him what had happened or whether he would believe the same as Quillan, that I was simply overreacting to a dream. I could tell he sensed my hesitancy though.
“You can tell me anything, I’m your Alpha, and I hope that I’m also your friend.” He smiled, pushing paper out of the way so he could lean forward on the desk.
My eyes flicked to the sketch he’d been working on and I recognised the pencil lines of Cathwulf’s smiling face. A smile curled at my own lips and his eyes followed mine.
“Ah.” He chuckled, his cheeks flushing slightly. “When I can’t sleep, I draw.”
“It’s beautiful,” I complimented, amazed at how well he had captured my friend’s likeness.
He grinned. “Nothing compared to the real thing.”
I laughed then blushed as the noise echoed loudly around the room. When I looked back at him, I could still see his worry for me shining in his eyes. Letting out a deep breath, my gaze flicked to the wall behind him. It wouldn’t hurt to tell him, I decided.
“I woke up and I thought I saw my father standing in the room. Quillan looked around but he said there was no scent or sign of him. Perhaps I’m going crazy but I was so sure…” I trailed off, rubbing my forehead, feeling silly. The more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed that he could have been there.
“Quillan is the best scout I have, the best any pack could have. If he said there was no scent, then he should be trusted,” Roarke advised softly.
I nodded, chewing my lip. “And I do trust him. I trust that there was no scent to be found.”
Roarke hummed in thought, tapping his pencil off the table. His eyes held a far off look and I knew he was going through what I said. Any good Alpha would take everything into consideration, no matter what the facts pointed to, and I knew Roarke was a good Alpha.
“You think he’s hiding his scent somehow,” Roarke guessed. “That could explain a few things.”
“I know your father collected books about our kind, I thought I could come in here and look through them, that maybe I’d find something. My own mate thinks I’m getting so worked up that I’m beginning to see things that aren’t there,” I fretted, panic rising. “My father is tormenting me when he may not even be near.”
“Settle, Oria. Take a deep breath for me,” Roarke ordered gently, his eyes glowing slightly.
It was only when I did what he said that I realised my body was thrumming with the power of my wolf, my skin tingling with the urge to shift. Breathing deeply, I forced myself to relax in the chair. My wolf bowed to his power, settling back but she was still on edge, alert, waiting.
“If you believe you saw him, then I believe you. You have strong instincts, Oria, and I don’t doubt them. There are spells I’m sure that can cover the scent of a wolf. Ailill are of nature, if it’s magic he’s using it’d most likely be theirs,” he explained, standing and wandering over to the bookcase.
“I don’t think my father has any connections to the Ailill. I never smelt magic on him when I lived with him and I don’t think he’s of sound enough mind to have Ailill help him. He’s a loner,” I argued. “I’m sure there must be another way he’s managing to cover his scent. Something simple that we’ve overlooked.”
Roarke was looking at me strangely and I became restless, unable to hold his eye. Shrinking in on myself, I stared at my fingers, cringing at the frayed edges of skin from where I had been picking nervously. I felt like I’d said something wrong, something that upset him.
“You can smell magic?” he asked carefully.
I nodded, daring to peek up. An odd question.
His lips twitched and he nodded to himself before turning back to searching the bookcase. “That might explain why you’re so strong. You have Alphas in your bloodline somewhere.”
I snorted, which gained a look from Roarke but I didn’t dare tell him that there were never any Alphas in my ancestry. My father would have gloated about that. Besides, if I had any such blood in my lineage, it might have stopped me becoming so weak.
Roarke pulled a book from the shelf and turned, holding it out for me. Standing, I took the dusty book from him, my nose scrunching at the musty scent. The pages were yellowing and stiff and I worried they’d crumble if I wasn’t gentle.
“If there’s something about hiding scents, it’ll be in there, but as your Alpha I ask that you go back to bed and read it tomorrow. You need your rest, Oria,” Roarke advised with another one of his boyish smiles. “I’m going to run the border myself in the morning and see what I can find. He must be using somewhere as a den. We will find him and he’ll never again cause you harm.”
I was a little less confident in his words, holding the book to my chest. “Thank you, Alpha.”
He bowed his head and returned to his chair behind his desk. I watched him for a moment before heading for the door but paused, turning back.
“Is something wrong, Alpha? Shouldn’t you be in bed as well?” I asked, worried that I was stepping over the line by prying.
Sorrow took over his features, a crease forming between his eyebrows. His eyes flicked back to the bookcase, to the photo of his parents. I felt guilty for asking, my head dropping. Just as I thought he would say no more, he cleared his throat.
“It’s my mother’s birthday. She and Father had hoped she’d be carrying another pup by now. With Cathwulf pregnant…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair so brown locks stuck up in all directions. “I shouldn’t be thinking on such things when I have her carrying my pup.”
“You’re allowed to grieve, Alpha. Even when things around you are going well, you’re allowed to miss what could have been, especially when there are people you loved missing out on seeing you make the start of your own family,” I replied, giving him a soft smile.
“Thank you,” he said, and I could feel the weight of how grateful he was in those two simple words. “I want you to know that I’m proud of you, Oria, my pack’s Beta Female. You’ve come so far from when you first came here, and I know you will come so much further. Now, off to bed.”
I laughed and bowed my head, slipping out the door and closing it gently behind me. The shuffling of paper reached my ears, followed by the scratching of a pencil on paper and I smiled at the thought of Roarke finishing his sketch of Cathwulf. Making my way back to the bedroom, the soft sound of even breathing told me Quillan was still deep in sleep. I watched him for a moment, my mate, lover, and protector.
Looking down at the book in my hands, I decided to do one thing I’d never done before in my entire life; disobey an order. Instead of going to bed to sleep like Alpha Roarke had told me to, I sat on the bed and started to read. I didn’t want to wake my mate by turning the light on so I opened the curtains a little wider in the hopes the li
ght of the moon would be enough to see by.
Unwinding the discoloured leather cord that held the book closed, I opened to the first page.
The writing was faded, written in old ink with fancy looped writing that made it even harder to read. The first page was simply an introduction of the author and a date that made my eyes widen. This book was older than I’d guessed, centuries older.
Máili Lyall, 1570
One of Roarke’s ancestors, I guessed, tracing a finger over the familiar last name. It was no wonder his father decided to keep this book in his office rather than with the rest of the healer’s books. My eyes skimmed over the rest of the page, my lips quirking at the bottom few paragraphs:
Despite what my husband says, I have decided to write down my knowledge. He claims word of mouth is how healers keep our work alive but that idea is from a time before the written word. I do not want anything we have learned as a people to be forgotten, lest we lose something important. I will pass this book on to the next healer, and they on to the next, and one day we will have a vast amount of knowledge.
Torian, I know you will read this and think me silly but after all we have been through, I am sure there will be a time again when Wulvers face what we did. Humans are mistrustful of what they don’t know, as we have seen and suffered. I trust this will help us in the future. I love you.
Overbearing mates I could understand. It seemed nothing was different back in Máili’s time.
Settling back against the headboard, I propped the book against my legs and began skimming through the rest, searching for anything about scents. There were pages about growing herbs, when best to plant and pick, how best to prepare them alongside each of their properties. I was halfway through the book with the sun beginning to rise above the trees before I caught anything of interest.
Wolfsbane.
It was one herb that even humans knew, at least in their books and TV shows, was poisonous to our kind. Even humans couldn’t ingest the plant without deadly outcomes.
Chewing my lip, I quickly read through the rest of the herbs that were listed as dangerous to Wulvers but as usual it was all common knowledge. We were taught to stay away from these plants from birth, perhaps thanks to Máili researching and writing it all down. It also listed known cures beside each plant but only some would restore a Wulver to full health. Flipping to the next page, I sighed as it changed subject back to the less mystical.
The room had suddenly gotten too warm and I shoved the book to the end of the bed to get up. I hesitated by the window before flicking the stiff latch and pulling it up only slightly, enough to let fresh air waft through. Breathing in the evergreen-scented air, I stilled.
If it was herbs my father was using then I’d let something important slip right by me. I was so focused on finding any trace of his scent that wasn’t there, when I should have been thinking about the scents that were.
The rustle of the duvet moving brought me out of my revelation.
“Oria, come back to bed,” Quillan grumbled, his voice rough with sleep.
“I’m not tired,” I replied softly, sending him a smile over my shoulder. “You go back to sleep.”
Dark eyes peered at me from under a mop of black hair. “How can I sleep when my mate is not beside me?”
Laughing softly, I gave in. There was nothing I could do about anything right now, so I climbed back into bed. Quillan’s arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me close so his nose was nestled in the crook of my neck. I squirmed, unable to help the way my body reacted as his heady scent invaded my senses.
He growled at my reaction and the primal sound vibrated straight to my core until the bond sang between us. His lips pressed against his mark, sending a bolt of pleasure through me and I sighed. The proof of his own arousal was pressed firmly against my rear, hot and throbbing.
“My female,” he murmured against my skin, nipping at his claim.
Grinning, I turned in his arms. My lips brushed against his and I knew there would be no sleeping as I whispered the words, “Prove it.
Chapter 19
Beta
Panting heavily, my body trembled with aftershocks of pleasure that had me biting my lip. Quillan’s weight rested between my thighs, his own ragged breath heating my neck. Trailing my fingers up his back, I couldn’t help the grin that stretched across my face.
Satisfaction filled me.
“I love you,” I breathed out nervously, trying to quiet my own thumping heart so I could hear whatever reply he’d give.
“I love you too, Oria, my mate,” he whispered huskily, easily, as if we’d always said it to each other.
My chest warmed and my heart skipped a beat. The last of my worries about where I stood with Quillan melted away as he kissed the mark on my neck. I shivered and pushed at his shoulders. My entire body was oversensitive and even that simple brush of his lips against my skin sent my nerves into overdrive.
I wanted him again.
Quillan chuckled, propping himself up so I could see his face. “Is that arousal I scent on you, female?”
I blushed, still getting used to how vulnerable I really was with him, how easily he could read my every emotion and desire. “It’s hard not to want you when your body is pressed against mine and you know exactly how to gain a reaction from me,” I teased, shifting my hips beneath his to garner a low groan.
The sound vibrated straight to my core and I could feel him harden again. His skin was saturated in my scent but beneath that was the spice of his own desire.
“I would keep you in bed all day if I could, just to hear you scream my name.” He smirked, leaning down to nip my swollen lip. “But we—”
“Have duties to attend to,” I finished for him, sighing.
He chuckled and sat up. My eyes raked over his muscled chest that was beaded with sweat. Quillan was a god in my eyes, all golden skin and so obviously strong. He wasn’t without blemish though, faded scars littered his skin, and one across his chest looked like it was caused by something particularly nasty. It would have taken months for that to heal. Frowning, I traced along the paler skin. My beast of a mate flinched and I snatched my hand back. Instinct had fear flaring and I waited for the admonishment that never came.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I whimpered.
Quillan hushed me and tipped my chin up. “I’m yours to touch and explore. Forgive me, I’m not used to touch, not there.”
Chewing my lip, I sat up too, voicing a quiet guess. “Your father did that?”
He nodded slowly, his brow furrowing. I didn’t press any further, I knew how he felt and I wondered if it was part of the reason he was so protective of me, why he wanted to show my own father no mercy. He knew what I’d gone through. What a pair we made.
“We should get up, the others will be sitting for breakfast soon and I want you by my side,” Quillan said, changing the subject.
I groaned, rolling away from him and he chuckled, pulling me back.
“You have nothing to be nervous about. You already know most of the high-ranked, all you have to do is sit and eat,” he pointed out.
I sighed, reluctantly getting to my feet. “And prove I belong at the table.”
“You do belong at the table, my mate, and most know that. There won’t be any challenges today, I promise.”
It wasn’t exactly a promise he could keep but I trusted his judgement and relented. I tried to choose the nicest of my clothes, wanting to make a good impression but I was once again stuck between the clothes that made me feel comfortable and confident and clothes that would keep me warm in the freezing weather.
Quillan got dressed quickly, not even bothering to run a comb through his messy hair. Dark strands fell over his eyes, making the brown pools seem even blacker. He muttered something I didn’t quite catch as I stared again at the open wardrobe. His presence behind me had my spine straightening, my whole body leaning unconsciously towards him. Rough fingers tucked my hair over one shoulder and he leaned down,
his nose brushing my neck. My eyes closed and the softest of sighs slipped past my lips, making my mate rumble in satisfaction at the reaction he gained.
“You’re overthinking, my mate,” he murmured softly, sliding his hands down my sides to grip my hips. His jeans felt rough against my naked body but that didn’t stop me from trying to get closer to him.
“There’s much to think about. I want to make a good impression,” I replied, reaching out to look through my array of skirts.
It was hard to focus with Quillan so close and he wasn’t exactly trying not to be distracting. His thumbs were rubbing circles into the soft flesh of my hips and his breath on my neck had tingles spreading.
“You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear, as you always do,” he said against my shoulder before propping his chin on top of my head. “Just wear something that doesn’t cover my mark. I want everyone to see it.”
I wanted to roll my eyes and make some comment about over-possessive males but the thrill his words sent through my body was impossible to hide from him. I loved that he wanted to show the whole world I was his, that he’d claimed me, that he wasn’t ashamed but proud to have me by his side. It also gave me a boost of confidence. Grabbing one of my thicker skirts and a long sleeved top, I got dressed with a little more enthusiasm than I’d gotten up with. I also took the one possession I’d gotten from my mother. A Celtic hair piece held in place with a deceptively sharp pin that kept my hair up and away from my face. I didn’t want to hide behind my silvery veil today, I was going into breakfast as Beta Female and the pack healer, I wanted them to see who I was.
Turning, I stopped short at the way Quillan’s eyes were raking over me. For a moment I wondered if there was something wrong until dark, heated eyes met mine. I knew that hungry look now, and I wished I’d known what it meant months ago. It had terrified me at first, that gaze that made me think he wanted to devour me, but I understood it now. He did want to devour me, but in an entirely pleasurable way.
Way Of The Wolf: Endeavour (The Wulvers Series Book 3) Page 21
