Page 38 of Lavender and Honey

Teasing back, I texted back,“Brave of you indeed. Alright, you’re on.”

“Good. I like a challenge,”he shot back.

I added with a playful edge,“I have a feeling you relish winning far more than just a challenge.”

Lucian admitted immediately,“Guilty. But let’s be honest, Lydia, you love a challenge almost as much as I do.”

“Maybe. But I’m not making it easy for you,”I countered.

“I’d be disappointed if you did,”he replied lightly.

I gazed at the glowing screen, feeling warmth spread through me with each playful exchange. There was a comforting normalcy to our banter— a safe haven in the midst of uncertainty.

Lucian’s next message had a sleepy face emoji,“Goodnight, Lydia.”

“Goodnight, Lucian,”I typed back.

Setting my phone aside, I exhaled a long forgotten breath. The lightheartedness of our exchange lingered, yet beneath it swirled a tide of unspoken emotions. Tomorrow wouldn't just be dinner— it would be an evening filled with revelations, expectations, and perhaps explanations capable of changing everything.

I sank into the cozy embrace of the couch, pulling a soft blanket over my legs as I nestled into the cushions. The gentle hum of the night enveloped me, the rhythmic ticking of the clock creating a soothing backdrop against the whirlwind of thoughts. Resting my head against the back of the couch, I inhaled deeply, striving to calm my fluttering nerves.

Tomorrow promised to be a long night, with conversations for which I felt only tentative readiness. Yet, for now, I allowed myself this quiet pause— a brief stillness before the inevitable storm of emotions.

As my eyelids grew heavy and sleep began to draw me under, I whispered into the silent room,“I hope I’m ready.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The next evening arrived far too quickly, my nerves creeping up on me as I stood in front of the mirror. The soft fabric of the sweater felt familiar against my skin, an anchor of normalcy in a sea of unease. Jeans hugged my form with just enough give to remind me that comfort didn't have to come at the expense of appearance.

My reflection stared back at me, eyes filled with anticipation and a touch of apprehension. I fussed with a strand of hair, tucking it behind my ear only for it to slip free moments later. It was an endless dance of trying to look unbothered while my insides churned with anxiety.

"Come on, Lydia," I murmured to my reflection. "It's just dinner, not a pack summit." Yet even as I said it, I knew that wasn't entirely true. This wasn't just about breaking bread; it was about breaking down walls I'd built so meticulously around myself. With each breath, I tried to steady my heart rate. Everyexhale was a silent mantra, willing strength into my limbs and courage into my soul.

"Okay," I exhaled, a final affirmation to my anxious reflection. I turned away from the mirror, leaving behind the echo of who I once was. It was time to face the unknown, to allow myself the chance to be seen beyond my Omega identity, as Lydia— the artist, the dreamer, the quietly resilient soul who yearned for connection despite her fears.

"Here goes nothing," I whispered, stepping out of my home and into the evening that awaited me. I stepped out into the muted evening, the last fingers of sunlight retreating behind the hills that cradled our sleepy town. The air held the promise of night— cool and tinged with the scent of pines, carrying the distant laughter of children playing one last game before being called in for dinner.

The drive to Elias's place, having memorized the directions Lucian had given me, was enveloped in silence, a stark contrast to the cacophony of thoughts clamoring for attention in my head. My mind replayed the messages from the night before. My fingers drummed a rhythm against my knee, echoing the beat of my pulse. It quickened with every mile that passed beneath the tires of my car, propelling me closer to their doorstep, to an evening fraught with the possibility of belonging— or the familiar sting of rejection. Finally, the car rolled to a stop outside their home, the engine's hum ceasing and leaving an expectant hush in its wake. I hesitated, my hand on the door handle, the moment stretching taut between the safety of solitude within the car and the vulnerability that awaited beyond its metal frame.

"Lydia,"I murmured my own name a whispered incantation to bolster courage. "You can do this."

The door creaked as I pushed it open, a soft exhalation into the world. I stepped out, the soles of my boots making contact with the gravel driveway, grounding me to the present. Eachstep toward the front door was measured, a deliberate defiance of the instinct to flee that nipped at my heels.Standing before the entrance, I lifted my hand and knocked. The sound was solid and real, a declaration of my arrival. My palms were only slightly damp, the nerves that had gnawed at me now.

I waited, the seconds ticking by, each one a heartbeat in the quiet anticipation that surrounded me. This threshold was more than just the entry to a house; it was the precipice of change, the door to a world where the warmth of pack life might soothe the chill that had settled in my bones.

The door swung wide without delay, and Soren filled the space, his frame relaxed against the wood. His trademark smirk greeted me, the edges of it warming just a bit. "Hey, you made it."

"I did," I managed, pressing my lips into a semblance of ease that felt foreign on my face. "No turning back now." The words hung in the air between us— a vow, a challenge, a whisper of the bravery I was still gathering like scattered leaves.

Soren's playful tone carried an undercurrent of sincerity that eased the tightness in my chest. “Not unless you want to miss Elias’ cooking, and trust me, that would be a tragedy.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he winked, stepping back with a flourish and beckoning me inside with a sweep of his arm. “Come on, before Lucian thinks I’ve abducted you.”

I gave a nervous chuckle, partly at Soren's theatrics, partly at the absurdity of my own hesitation. Taking a tentative step forward, I crossed the threshold, and the atmosphere shifted around me like a tangible embrace. The warmth of their home wrapped around me instantly, chasing away the evening chill that had begun to seep into my bones.

The currents of rich aromas led me from the entryway to where Lucian stood, his silhouette framed by the soft lighting over the dining area. The casual tilt of his head belied theintensity in his eyes as they traced my cautious approach. "Lydia."

"Lucian," I managed, my voice steadier than I anticipated. Our gazes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause, "I'm glad I came."

The sudden cacophony of a clattering crash from the kitchen made my heart leap into my throat, disrupting the calm that had settled over me. A string of muffled curses filtered through the walls, and I couldn't help but jump at the unexpected noise.

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