Page 41 of A Wolf in the Garden

VAN

Ellie stretches out naked across her bed, the morning sun shining through the skylight above her illuminating her tanned skin, the reddish shades in her hair lit up as it curls over her pert breasts. I’m tall enough to watch her with ease from my spot in the kitchen below, where I stand frying fresh eggs and bacon in the pan.

“I wish I could take a photo,” I say on a whim. “You’re so damn beautiful. I want to remember this moment.”

Her full lips part, the slightest hint of a blush suffusing her cheeks. “Why don’t you? I don’t mind.”

“Seriously?”

Her eyes search my face, and I hold my breath, wondering what she sees when she looks at me that way. Shecantrust me — I will never do anything to hurt her ever again — but I wouldn’t blame her for feeling otherwise.

“Seriously,” she says after a beat. “I trust you.”

I grab my phone from the countertop, swiping open the camera. She is perfect, staring at the camera lens as I snap a picture. “Spread your legs,” I direct her, and her knees fall open, revealing those perfect pussy lips, my cum from earlier still leaking out, the sheets beneath her an absolute mess. Her chest rises and falls in exaggerated breaths, the scent of her arousal mixed with my own seed making my mouth water. I hit the off button on the stove; fuck food, I’d much rather eat pussy for breakfast. “Touch yourself,” I whisper.

Snap, snap, snap.Fuck she is stunning, her fingers circling her clit, dipping into her dripping core before dragging the moisture back up, easing the glide of her fingers. She bites her lip, eyes never leaving my face, hips canting rhythmically, mimicking the way I fuck her.

Goddess.

I set my phone aside. Her loft bed has an adjustable railing, to stop her falling six feet to the floor in the night. Smart, but it’s in the way right now, and I snap the locks open, pushing it down and out of the way. My hands clamp around her ankles, dragging her towards me until her knees hook over my shoulders, her ass hangs half off the bed, and the taste of her is on my tongue.

* * *

I’m fully aware that we’re living in a bubble right now, but I’m not quite ready for it to pop. I want forever with Ellie — there’s no doubt about that — but right now, what I’d love is a few more days of just us, without the usual responsibilities of the outside world, to learn all there is to know about the woman she has become.

Sadly, the real world doesn’t work that way. It doesn’t matter how much money you have to your name if you burn your bridges and wind up with a reputation for being an ungrateful asshole, so I can’t afford to blow off the appointments I have lined up this week at the vineyard — not when I’m trying to get into the good graces of the local community leaders. Ellie, likewise, has commitments she has to stick to; clients to keep happy, gardens to visit, and even an hour speaking at one of the universities in Auckland City this Friday.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” she says as we finally get around to eating our delayed breakfast. “It’s only a small cohort — there’s only thirty-odd students taking that Landscape Architecture course.”

“It is,” I tell her. “You’rethelecturer for the day. That’s amazing.”

“Hardly. I’m just a guest speaker — they needed someone to talk about practical experience in the industry, that’s all. It’s amazingly nerve-wracking, is what it is,” she adds between mouthfuls. “I kind of regret saying yes, but it’s another string to my bow, and that’s always been my philosophy when it came to building up connections in the industry. I didn’t know anyone when I moved down to Auckland to study, so I said yes to all the extracurriculars that were design and landscaping related.”

“That’s a sound strategy. Did you…” I stop myself, but she looks across the table at me with those big doe eyes of hers, and I know I’m too far gone with the question now to ask anything different. “Did you start your study straight after high school?”Straight after I left you and New Zealand behind?

“I started in the second semester that year, in July.” The scrape of her knife against her plate sounds overly loud as I wait for her to say more, and her eyes remain downcast. “I was too much of a mess, the first half of that year.”

I’d jeopardised her study, her plans, her future. “I’m sorry, Ellie.”

I don’t want to have this conversation. Weneedto have this conversation, I know, but I’d rather gouge my own eyes out than have to rehash all this pain, for both of us. I hate seeing her hurt, far more than I hate being the one that hurts. I can take the pain, but if I can spare her, I’d much prefer to do that.

She ignores my gaze, cutting her bacon into tiny pieces without lifting any of them to her mouth. “I can understand that grief affects everyone differently, and that it-it was such shocking, such heartbreaking circumstances.” Her voice is small, subdued, careful. I watch her lick her lips as she considers what to say next. “I just wish you could have let me be there for you,” she says finally, in barely a whisper. “You didn’t have to go through that alone.”

I reach out for her hand, and the knife clatters as it’s dropped on her plate. “I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted you.”

“Then why —”

The pained confusion on her face makes my chest burn. “My father,” I say in a rush, because if I have to do it, I’m going to make it fast.Rip the bandaid off.“He ordered us all to go no-contact with you. After Jenny’s death, he wanted to purge his life, our lives, of everything related to this country, to ever being here.”

Angry tears pool on her lower lashes, her face twisted in pain. “And what, you just listened to him? Here’s the supposedlove of your life— that’s what you’d called me, once — and daddy just tells you‘no’, and you go along with it?”

I hate being the target of her anger, especially because I deserve it. Ishouldhave fought against it; of everyone, I’d had the ability to. I could have broken free from the pack back then and chosen her. I was too much of a coward, too messed up to even choose my own mate, I didn’t protect her, didn’t accept my inevitable fate, didn’t take the bait my father offered, didn’t deal with it for almost nine fucking years because avoiding it was easier than this, than facing her hurt. I’ve wasted so much time, and Ihatemyself for it.

Tears burn at the back of my eyes, and one look at Ellie makes the dam burst. I snarl in frustration and shame, turning my head away from her, staring out the window as I try to stem the burning sensation in my throat.Fuck,I’m a mess. It’s fucking embarrassing.

“Evander,” she whispers, moving around the table until she’s standing between my legs, her touch featherlight on my face as she brushes away tears.

“I’msosorry,” I croak. “I should have been stronger for you. I should have broken off from the pack back then.” Inside, my wolves whine, and I duck my head against her neck, shuddering against her shoulder, the most submissive, useless alpha that ever lived.

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