Lycan Legacy (A Soulmark Series Book 5), page 18
“Settle down, boys. There’s no need to get so testy. We’re all interested in the same thing after all—the safety and welfare of our dear, Winter." Lucy smile grows as she speaks. "Leave her to us, and you and your capable pack may focus on this… 'misunderstanding' with the Wselfwulfs.”
++
Leaving early will raise the eyebrows of many, so we don’t.
Instead, Atticus and I play babysitter to my cousin and Knox. I cut off my drinking, no longer indulging in the high of being in close contact to Atticus or my new pack mates. A headache beats at the back of my head. I fear it won’t fade until Lucy and Knox leave.
For a while, the two stick near our side as we introduce them to the pack. Both are on their best behavior, making idle small talk and charming, self-deprecating jokes. The Adolphus pack eats it all up, pleased to think they’ve made a good impression with wolves from such a renowned pack.
It makes me want to hurl.
The only anchor to my sanity and calm is Atticus by my side. Lingering kisses behind my ear and the heavy pressure of his hand on my hip somehow give me the focus I need to play the role of beta well. At some point, his hand curls further inward to splay possessively across my abdomen.
The action earns ireful looks from both Lucy and Knox. I relish in it. Until the two share a meaningful look and split up.
“Atticus, do you mind keeping Lucy company for a bit?” I ask. My eyes follow Knox’s back as he maneuvers through the crowd to the back of the room where a buffet is laid out. “I’m just—”
Smooth lips press against my cheek, cutting off my prepared excuse. They claim my lips next, sucking at the bottom before delivering a tender nip.
“Go,” Atticus says, his words pitched low for only me to hear.
I cast my eyes to his own and marvel in their likeness to glacial ice. His eyes are a shade of blue not quickly forgotten—rich in color and bright as the day. Yet last night they had darkened to a dangerous storm, with lycan lightning spearing down through each iris. At the sight of our unwanted guests, they mirror a tempest at bay.
“You’re sure?”
He nods. “I’ll make sure Lucy doesn’t get into any trouble.”
We part, and as I trail Knox my hand drifts to my slightly swollen bottom lip. You’re playing with fire and already getting burned.
It shouldn’t take me as long as it does to reach the buffet table where Knox lingers, but a handful of groups suck me into their conversation as I attempt to weave through the crowd. My frustration builds when I finally manage to disengage and find that Knox is moving on.
With my senses on high alert, I do my best to act natural and keep the rhythm of my heart to a reasonable pace. The last thing I want is to alert anyone of my anxiety and wariness in regards to my old pack.
“Where did you go?” I mutter to myself, pretending to scan the table from end to end while I search for Knox’s recognizable dark hair.
“Talking to yourself?”
I nearly jump out of my skin at the teasing lilt of Quinn’s voice but settle for a hand over my heart. “Quinn, hi.”
“So, what’s up with the two newcomers?” To the point, as usual. I put on a smile, one reserved for subterfuge at family functions and soirees.
“They’re here on business of a sort,” I say, waving a hand dismissively as my wandering gaze treads back over the sea of heads. “And they’ve passed on seasonal greetings from the Blanc pack—”
Quinn snorts, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Bullshit.”
“Excuse me?”
Quinn flips her sunny blonde hair over her shoulder and arches an eyebrow in disbelief. “They brought suitcases to wish our pack a happy new year?” Another snort, this one followed by a rather sharp laugh.
My cheeks deign to flame in response. “I’m sure they view their… extended presence a gift.”
“I bet,” she replies, sipping from the champagne flute with natural grace. Her eyes flick to something in the crowd, but her clear blue eyes are back on me in a second. “Why are you following him?”
“I’m not—” Her second brow raises, and I let out an irritated huff. “Fine. I’m following him,” I hiss and take a step closer to her. With my voice pitched low, almost to a whisper, I fill her in on the circumstances. At least, as much as I’m willing to share. “They found out about the Wselfwulf attack.”
“Oh.” Quinn’s forehead furrows in thought. “I suppose that’s cause for a house call,” she mutters. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re following dark-hair guy.”
“He’s… an old beau.”
“An old beau? Who says that?” Before I can defend my choice of words, Quinn barrels on. “Also, don’t you think it’s going to look weird if you’re following around your old boyfriend? You’re married. Remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” I snap, my patience wearing thin. I swallow, casting a quick look over my shoulder. He’s still out of my sights, and my stomach gives an uneasy turn. He could be anywhere in this house. “I don’t trust him. He was a suitor my parents had lined up for me in case things with Atticus somehow didn’t work out. Knox is the kind who likes to make trouble, and I don’t know any other way to keep him under control other than to follow him.”
My response comes out more heated than I expect, but the half-truth seems to work. Quinn’s eyes widen in understanding before they narrow on some point beyond me.
“I see,” she says, her voice like silk. “Don’t worry about him. I’ll make sure he behaves and keep an eye on him. You said they were staying? Do you know for how long?”
“They are, but I don’t know for how long.”
A twisted smile slips onto Quinn’s rosy lips. “Hmm, I suppose you’re taking your cousin in?” At my nod, her smile grows larger. “Well then, Knox should stay here. I’ve been dying to use some of Ryatt’s new surveillance equipment. Huh, they really are a present in disguise, aren’t they?”
I laugh at the abrupt train of thought Quinn latches onto and watch a mischievous twinkle light up her eyes. “Thank you.”
She shrugs. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you shouldn’t worry about Knox. Your cousin on the other hand….”
My head whips to the direction of Atticus’s last position. He’s only a couple of yards from his original spot, and hanging on his arm is Lucy. The wolf in me snarls its anger, and I bite my tongue so as not to echo its sentiments.
“You go,” Quinn says. “I saw Knox slip out and think he might enjoy some company.”
She departs with hips sashing side to side, drawing more than one appreciative glance from several males of the pack. I make my way back into the crowd, avoiding the eyes of those who wish to converse and keeping a polite, thin-lipped smile on as I close the distance between my cousin and me.
“You two look like you’re enjoying yourselves,” I say, interrupting whatever conversation they were having. Atticus is flushed. Lucy oozes satisfaction. “But I must confess, after last night”—I spare Atticus a not-so-innocent smirk—“I’m too tired to continue. We’d best collect our things and go.”
Atticus sighs, his relief palpable, and he attempts to dislodge Lucy from his arm. She doesn’t budge, her smile is frozen in place. “Is that so? Well, I don’t see why you can’t go home and we remain.”
I step closer and channel my mother as I stare down my nose at my cousin. “Because I said so.”
++
We catch a ride from a pack mate to get home safely. The journey has all the potential to be awkward, but Atticus remains cool and chatty with our designated driver, Ted. Yet when we pile into our home, the staved-off awkwardness surges forward full force.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Atticus says once we divest ourselves of our outerwear and shoes. He grabs Lucy’s roller suitcase and heads upstairs with us in tow. “You’ll be staying in this bedroom,” he says, stopping at the far end of the hallway.
It’s conveniently the farthest away from his bedroom.
“Thank you,” Lucy says, her voice dripping like saccharine honey. “I won’t forget your hospitality.”
I clear my throat to draw Lucy’s sultry regard from Atticus. “I’m sure you’re exhausted from your spontaneous trip. Why don’t you take a shower and head to bed, you look like you need it.”
The smirk she wears so proudly vanishes as she pins me with her chocolate-colored eyes. “How right you are, cousin. I’ll just jump in the shower and prepare for bed,” she says, pushing the guest room door open. “Once I’m done, you should stop in. It felt like we barely got to talk at the party, and there’s so much for us to catch up on.”
There’s little left to the imagination with her parting words. And by the glint in her eye, she is more than aware of the gauntlet she has thrown down. I issue a stiff nod.
“That sounds lovely. I’ll come around in fifteen minutes or so.”
An artificial smile lights up Lucy’s face. “See you then.”
With the door shut in our faces, I release a laden sigh. Atticus’s fingers graze my wrist before slipping into my palm. “Are you—”
He doesn’t get to finish. The hand he reached so blindly for moves with a mind of its own to cover his mouth. My hair momentarily blocks my vision as I give a sharp shake of my head. Blue eyes widen at me in shock and amusement. Atticus's lips twitch beneath the pressure of my hand just before I remove it.
“Let’s go to bed,” I say.
Atticus follows the path I mark with my eyes between Lucy’s door and the far end of the hall. Both of his eyebrows rise in response, but when I go, he follows. Only when his bedroom door is securely closed behind us, I release a ragged sigh.
I barely give the makeup of his room a second glance, almost immediately turning on the balls of my feet to face him head-on. “We have to sleep together,” I say.
The words don’t register at first for either of us and then…
“Excuse me?” Atticus blurts out, his face turning scarlet much like mine.
“I mean—no, not like that.” A hysterical laugh builds up in my throat, bursting out and urging my blush to extend across my body. “What I meant to say was, we should… sleep here together. Not with each other. Not again.”
Another laugh, this one earning a grimace in response from Atticus.
“I didn’t mean it like that either,” I rush on, forcing the wild rampage of my heart to slow to something more reasonable. “I just don’t want Lucy to know we don’t share a bedroom,” I finally manage to get out.
The red recedes from his cheeks, but only a small amount. As I take in a steadying breath, I can’t help but note his lingering embarrassment. It stings my sensitive nose.
“You can stay here while your cousin is around,” Atticus says, his eyes pinned to some point past my head. “Although, I’m not sure how you’ll explain the existence of your room. Your scent's all over it.”
I press my hands down my skirt—an old nervous habit of mine—to ease the pressure I feel squeezing around us. “I’ll keep it locked after I move some of my things out of it.”
We catch each other's eyes and still. “Do you need any help?”
My mouth opens and closes several times before I shake my head. His offer is more than I deserve. “No. I’ll make do. And, Atticus?” I reach out tentatively and brush my fingers against the back of his hand. “We can scratch the last of my ramblings from this conversation… sex isn’t off the table. Not that I’m putting it on the table, I just….” I swallow thickly and push on. “It’s not entirely off the table.”
Atticus’s fingers entwine with mine, his eyes belying the hunger I know to be seeded inside both of us. Raising our joined hands between us, he bends and presses a kiss against my emerald ring.
“Good,” he says, his voice husky. A different heat floods my system as I stare into his eyes. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
The kiss that follows is both expected and not. Everything about Atticus is already so familiar to me. The way his hands pull me in closer. How meticulously his lips caress my own. But each union between us, big and small, is never the same, nor is the desire that ensnares me so ruthlessly.
His lips work my mouth open, and tongue and teeth come into play. Goose bumps race across my skin as the memories of last night shift into focus.
Don't do this to your heart, the rational side of my head chimes in as I begin to press into his body.
With regret, the heel of my hand pushes carefully against his sternum in a wordless request for release.
I turn my head just out of reach. “I have to get my things,” I whisper against his cheek.
He drags his nose across my jawline before planting a kiss at my temple and nodding. “I’ll be here.”
I depart with shaky steps and head immediately for my bedroom. I make quick work of it all, shoving an assortment of clothing in a suitcase from my closet and tossing my makeup and toiletries into a large purse. Thankfully, the majority of my most used shoes populate the foyers shoe rack.
With my belongings in hand, I deposit them back in Atticus’s room. He’s in the en suite bathroom, the shower clearly running. I’ll grab the room's key from Atticus later, after I speak with Lucy.
The walk down the hallway feels extraordinarily long, but I’m oddly serene as I gather my resolve. All night I’ve been left off kilter by Knox and Lucy’s presence. I can't afford to be so now in my own home.
I knock before I enter, not giving Lucy the chance to invite me in.
Lucy scowls at my entrance, finishing off tying her robe with a dramatic flare. “You couldn’t have waited one more second for me to let you in?”
I ignore her indignation. “You’re here to protect me?”
A beat of silence passes, and then a small smirk works its way up Lucy’s face. “Why, of course. Aunt Adele and Uncle Malcolm were beside themselves with worry—”
“Why are you really here?”
Lucy walks to the room’s lone dresser set between a pair of windows. Some toiletries are spread out across its surface, and she takes her time pursuing them before settling on a shiny silver jar.
“You know why we’re here,” she finally says, not bothering to turn around as she places dots of the jar's contents on her face. A perfume of jasmine fills the room as she rubs the cream into her skin. “Your parents have doubts, Winter. They merely wish us to discover how far gone you really are, or if you’ve stayed loyal to the pack. Sit.”
At this command, she looks over her shoulder to see if I’ll obey.
“I’ll stand. Atticus doesn’t expect me to be long. I assume you have questions to ask on their behalf.”
Her eyes narrow, and Lucy turns to face me fully. “Have you consummated your marriage?”
“Yes.” I hold her regard, keeping my expression blank and offering no further explanation.
“Have you sealed the soulmark?”
“No.”
Lucy arches a brow. “Is that so?”
“Mother would know. The bonds I still keep with the pack would surely break after a commitment like that.”
“Maybe,” she says, accompanied by a nonchalant lift of one shoulder. “Maybe not. There aren't many cases like yours to go by since nobody in the pack would dare have the gall to spit in the face of our traditions as you have. And if you’re already sleeping with him….” Our glares collide, and the room fills with the vibrancy of our angry. I take a step forward as Lucy leans against the dresser.
“You have no idea what you're talking about,” I snap.
Lucy bats her lashes at me. “Who knows what sympathies you’ve gained for this pack by partaking in such an intimate act. You know as well as I, Winter, that intercourse is just another cord that ties us closer to our pack.”
I fold my arms across my chest and stand taller. “I suppose not sleeping with my husband wouldn’t raise any flags at all,” I say, my heavy sarcasm not delivering the desired results. Lucy rolls her eyes.
“Certainly people would understand if you decided to take things slow. After all, you’ve only ever been pen pals all these years.”
“I’m a beta now. The entire pack is watching us. So every move I make I do so carefully, so as not to draw suspicion. I certainly can’t afford to slip up.”
My words strike a nerve, or something close to it. Lucy’s jaw clenches as she sharpens her glare. “Yes, poor Juniper. I would hate to be at the mercy of your actions. Which is why we’re here. Nothing untoward will happen to her if you follow your parents’ next instructions. Check the front pocket of my suitcase.”
I hesitate only a moment before striding over to it. Searching inside the front pocket, I find a small metal flask.
“What is it?” I ask, opening the top and sniffing the contents. It barely contains an odor, with only the slightest hint of floral notes to attach to the liquid inside.
“It’s for your fairy friend. Put it in her drink.”
I snap my head in Lucy’s direction, but she wears a bored expression. “What does it do?”
“It won’t kill her, if that’s what you're worried about. We certainly don’t want to have to worry about cleaning up a body. No, this will just… incapacitate her for a period of time. Your parents believe, with the fairy out of the picture for however brief of time, some resolution might finally occur between the Wselfwulf and Adolphus packs.”
I glance back at the flask, my grip tightening around the cold metal. “You want me to drug her?”
“We want you to prove your loyalties,” Lucy corrects softly. “Think of this as your final test. Do this, and the events to follow will bring this silly little war to an end at last. And then you can return home. Right where you belong.”
Under Pressure
Chapter 11
Morning comes, and Atticus is not in bed. My hand combs over the surface of where he last resided. The warmth of his lycan nature still lingers underneath the covers, and I am loath to move. When the heat begins to fade, I roll and grab my phone from the nightstand. It's been too long since my last conversation with June.
