Page 27 of Wedding for My Werewolf

He seemed to understand her inability to respond, because he cupped her cheek again, then resumed driving.

“I’ll drop you off at Garrick’s.”

“You don’t have?—”

“I’m dropping you off,” he said firmly. “Is it that hard to let someone do something for you?”

She winced at the question, but he didn’t press her.

When they arrived at Garrick’s mansion, he came round to open the door for her. She slid down, then looked up at him. Gathering her courage, she went up on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his in a quick kiss.

“In case anyone is watching,” she said, her cheeks burning, and scurried through the gates. She could feel him watching her all the way to the door.

She spent the day cleaning the old ballroom but no matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn’t stop the images flooding her mind. Fragments of the Pack meeting kept replaying in her mind: Lila’s predatory smile, the dozens of suspicious stares, Aidan’s unexpected friendliness. She’d felt like a fraud, waiting for someone to point at her and expose her lies.

But Eric’s presence had anchored her through all of it. Even when his mother’s absence had drawn whispers, he’d kept his arm around her, steady and sure.

Then the kiss had changed everything. Or maybe nothing. She dumped out the dirty mop water with a frustrated groan. This was supposed to be simple—a mutually beneficial arrangement to keep them both safe. Instead, her skin tingled where he’d touched her, and her lips ached for another taste.

He picked her up at the end of the day and once again they shared a meal. He kept the conversation light, talking about his day and avoiding the subject of the Pack—and the kiss. She still fled to her room as soon as dinner was over, but sleep escaped her.

As she tossed and turned, she finally realized that for the first time since she’d fled the city, she felt safe. Not just physically protected, but… seen. He didn’t demand explanations or push when she withdrew. He simply offered what she needed—shelter and security.

And now, inexplicably, passion.

She pressed her fingers to her lips, remembering the fiercely possessive way he’d kissed her. And yet he’d carefully given her space afterwards. Even now, she could hear him moving around the cabin, keeping his distance while staying close enough if she needed him.

What had she gotten herself into? And why didn’t that question terrify her anymore?

She finally sighed and got up, padding quietly to the kitchen. He was standing at the counter, whiskey glass dangling from his fingers, moonlight casting shadows across his face.

His eyes lifted to meet hers, golden and intense even in the darkness, then drifted down to her legs, bare beneath the hem of her oversized sleep shirt. Neither spoke, electricity humming in the air between them.

“I was just going to make some tea,” she said finally.

He shifted aside, giving her space at the counter. She filled the kettle, overwhelmingly conscious of his closeness, of the lingering warmth from where their arms brushed.

“Can’t sleep?” The low rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

“No.” She dropped a tea bag into her mug. “I was thinking about the meeting…”

“You don’t need to worry about it. You did very well.”

The kettle whistled. She poured the hot water, watching steam curl up between them. She leaned against the counter beside him, their shoulders almost touching, as he took a slow sip of whiskey.

The quiet settled again, but it felt different now. Comfortable. Like they’d done this a hundred times before. The scent of whiskey and cedar mixed with the chamomile from her mug, creating something new and oddly peaceful.

“Your Pack doesn’t seem to approve of how you do things,” she said finally. “Or is that just because of me?”

“It’s not just you.” He set his glass down with a sigh. “The bond between Pack members runs deep. Like blood, but stronger. But that means they expect everyone to live by the old ways. Close-knit. Traditional.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“I respect our heritage, but I won’t let it cage me. The Pack thinks living apart makes me weak.”

She remembered the whispers at the meeting, the sideways glances. “Is that why your mother wants you to mate? To bring you back to the fold?”

“Partly. She also wants me to take over as Alpha.” His golden eyes fixed on some distant point. “The others just see my independence as a failing. They think I’m weak because I don’t want to be Alpha.”

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