Page 23 of Golden Desires

Chapter Twelve

Goldie

“We’re walking there?” I ask, looking up at Aldair as he takes the lead into the forest. The path along the meadow leads us right into the thick of the trees.

After my embarrassing attempt at making breakfast, Cillian took over, and cooked up the most delicious pancakes. I think I ate thirty-six. Okay, not really, but I did eat at least ten. They were so good, and the syrup was unlike anything I’ve ever tasted.

I lick my lips and swear I can still taste the sweetness of it. Cillian smirks at me, and I shrug.

“It was yummy,” I sass, making him chuckle.

“Yes, I believe you said that a few times.”

“I’ve never had pancakes,” I add, and Aldair turns around, eyes wide as he looks at me, staring.

“Never?” he asks, and I huff. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.

“Like I said, I usually steal Bear’s carrots. If I had pancakes as an option, do you think I’d be resorting to theft?” My answer is snarky, and I can tell by the look in his brown eyes, that I’ve hurt Aldair’s feelings a bit with my attitude.

“I’ve never eaten chicken,” Cillian suddenly says, and it’s my turn to gawk. I’ve had chicken, and rabbit. Rarely, but those aren’t considered such a luxury in my village, the way pancakes and other sweets are.

“But–” I start, but I’m cut off.

“There was an incident when I was younger,” Aldair says, cutting off whatever Cillian was about to say. “Let's just say Ma doesn’t eat her chickens, only their eggs. And she’s the one that taught Cill to cook. He doesn’t even know how to prepare them. Honestly, it’s a miracle he knows how to cook anything with meat, considering Ma’s attachment to animals. But there are exceptions. Old age and injury. Trade.”

“Long story short, they’re her pets, and we don’t kill Ma’s pets,” Cill smirks at Aldair, and I sense there’s a deeper story there. Maybe they’ll share it with me one day. Guilt nags at me… I should tell them how I ended up in their house to begin with. Soon. Maybe.

“Oh, that makes sense,” I say, nodding, as I try to shove the rising anxiety in my chest away. I don’t want to think about everything I ran from right now.

“Anyway, to answer the question we ignored, yes we’re walking. Ma doesn’t live far from here, and we have plenty of time to get there,” Cillian answers, walking beside me. I notice Kylan doesn’t try to get very close to me, instead keeping a gap between us. Right now, he’s a few feet behind his brothers and me.

Cillian, however, seems like he can’t get close enough to me. He doesn’t touch me often, but the gap between him and me is usually quite small. Aldair is somewhere in the middle of the two men. Sometimes he’s close enough to catch the deeper notes of his scent, other times he keeps his distance.

I hold in the grumble of disappointment that wants to slip free when I think about them being too far away. What has come over me?

When we step deeper under the canopy of trees, I feel safe this time, instead of the plaguing fear of the unknown I had before. Cillian holds back the branches from smacking into me as I carefully follow his steps. The quiet of the surrounding forest speaks of sleeping animals and peace rather than the danger of mythical beasts. It’s odd. I haven’t felt this sense of safety around others since I lost my sweet mother. The memories of her face and voice have all faded over time, but I remember the love. The way she made me feel. I miss that. I miss her.

“If you get tired, just let me know. I’ll carry you,” Cillian offers with a wicked grin. They gave me a pair of boots that fit perfectly. They were a little too bothered by my inadequate footwear, if you ask me. Why do they care about my feet? And where did they get shoes that fit just right? Do they have an Omega? The thought causes a growl to rise in my throat, and I smack a hand over my mouth before it slips free.

And why am I suddenly checking that each of them has acceptable shoes? Why do I care? Maybe I should leave. I would like to have my wrist looked at by their mother, but…it’s already starting to feel better.

It’s my responses to these men and my inability to explain my reactions to them that irritates me as we move through the forest. Not why I like these men so much, and not why I trust them. Especially not the fact that I have no desire to leave. It’s the confusion I find bothersome. It’s like my mind is at war with my heart and body. I’m drawn to them, there’s no doubt about that, but why?!

This can’t be healthy. Is this what Omegas usually feel when they meet a compatible Alpha? I haven’t considered it before… Of course, I’ve never met a compatible Alpha, so I wouldn’t know.

I’m following them blindly through the forest, not the least bit scared, as I think it over. Their scents are the most delectable I have ever smelled. Physically, they are extremely attractive. They each have a uniqueness to them that intrigues me. Cillian’s playful and teasing nature. Kylan’s shyness and care for animals. Aldair’s quiet strength and simmering looks.

By the time I realize I never answered Cillian, it would be awkward to suddenly reply, so I just remain silent as we walk. I don’t think I would mind being carried, if it meant I could be pressed against all those muscles…

I smell smoke and hear the squawking of chickens before I see the little cottage, but it’s only a few more steps before we break through the tree line, and it comes into view. Thank goodness, too, my thoughts were headed down a questionable path.

I stop dead in my tracks, stunned by the overwhelming sense of joy just the sight of this home brings.

In front of us lies a log home with a stone chimney to the side, giving off a slow curl of smoke from the metal vent at the top. The thatched roof and simple siding are sturdy and have weathered well. The porch holds planters of all sizes, with flowers and herbs sitting along the rails and hanging from the overhanging roof. A low bench sits beneath the window by the front door. Throughout the surrounding yard, a collection of well cared for animals graze happily. An old brown and white speckled hound watches over them while a cluster of younger pups dance around his legs. As soon as he spots the Alphas, he barks in excitement.

It’s so homey and cute. The cottage itself isn’t massive, but large enough that a few people could live here easily. Compared to my nightmare of a home, this place is a paradise.

A smile stretches across my cheeks, and I look up at Cillian, who’s watching me.

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