Page 53 of The Wolf's Appetite
In this moment, I could envision nothing bad had or would touch us, that I was a newly mated female who had just found my other half and we were starting our life together.
And we were. I was. But there were shadows of the unseen still in the background.
Beneath every word, every smile, was the same unspoken truth—we were waiting for something we couldn’t see to attack. It could be tomorrow, next week, a month from now, or maybe it would be a hundred years into the future.
But until then, I planned on enjoying every happy moment life gave me with Lennox.
34
LENNOX
By the end of the first week, the forced normalcy had become a routine in itself.
And in that short time all this shit had happened, we’d fought, bled, and stared into the eyes of things noOtherworldbeing had ever seen. The breach, the Leandrean, the witches, and the evil, dark magic that was coming to light—it all lingered around us, a shadow hanging on to each of our backs waiting to creep forward.
But for tonight, Aisling wanted to be in her own space. And I wanted my mate all to myself.
We’d come to her cabin an hour ago, and she’d insisted on preparing me a home-cooked meal. I sat at her little dining room table just watching my female inher element. She was so fucking gorgeous, so cute that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her.
Her cabin smelled like her. Not just the soft floral scent Aisling carried but hints of leather from her books, old smoke from her fireplace, and fresh herbs she had hanging and drying along the little window over her kitchen sink.
I could live like this, away from the world, tucked in the forest, in my little world with the female who meant everything to me.
She glanced at me over her shoulder, a small smile on her face. She’d put the long fall of blonde hair in a messy bun, and my mouth watered at the sight of her slender neck and the twin marks I’d left.My mating mark.“Want tae open a bottle of wine for us?”
The corner of my mouth lifted. “Aye, lass. I’ll manage the wine.”
She didn’t have an enormous kitchen—just a small wood stove, a small kitchen counter, a butcher block island, and a set of shelves lined with jars of spices and dried herbs. And it was fucking perfect.
I grabbed the wine and opened it. The cork gave way with a softpop, the deep, rich scent already curling up from the bottle. After grabbing two glasses, I poured us each one and brought one over to Aisling. She glanced up at me then, a small smile tilting her lips.
“Thanks,” she murmured and took a slow sip, her eyes slightly closing as a soft hum left her lips.
“Gods,” I murmured. “Ye are so fooking beautiful.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and she blinked up at me. Her movements were effortless as she prepared dinner. Chopping vegetables, cubing and then searing meat, sprinkling on spices, and placing everything to a stockpot to make a stew. The scent filled the cottage as I leaned against the counter and took a long pull from my glass.
I was focused on her, unable to look away. I wanted to stand up behind her and slide my hands around her waist to pull her against me. I wanted her to feel the raging hard-on I already sported.
But I held back. I’d been out patrolling and guarding every fucking night since we officially mated. Tonight, she deserved a rest from her insatiable mate.
Still, my focus never left her.
“Ye keep looking at me like ye’re memorizing something,” she teased without glancing over.
“I am,” I admitted, voice low. “I’m memorizing every single inch of ye, lass. Every time I look at ye, it’s another thing I canna forget.”
That earned me a soft laugh, but she kept cooking, and soon, the kitchen smelled of bread. It was freshly baked from the estate, and we’d brought it with us and heated it up in the oven so it was nice and toasted.
When we finally sat, bowls full of hearty stew,toasted and buttered bread set on the table, and our wine glasses refilled, she lit a single candle in the center of the table. The glow painted her face in gold, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else.
We talked—not about all the negative shit that had been happening. No, we talked about the small things. Like she’d had the cottage built years ago. She’d helped build it with the contractors, even her father overseeing it all.
She bitched about the wood-burning stove she’d found thrifting and how the damn thing was stubborn, but she loved it regardless. I was lost in the cadence of her voice as she described the array of birds that visited her feeders every morning and how she’d ended up naming them.
This moment, spending time with her, was… peaceful.
By the time we finished eating and cleaned up, the wine bottle was empty, and the flush on her cheeks was matched by the warmth coursing through my veins. We’d moved to her little loveseat in front of the fireplace. Aisling was curled up beside me. I had my arm over her–keeping her close–and for long minutes, we drank wine in silence and watched the fire licking across the logs.
