Page 37 of Fated to the Enemy Alpha

God, how I wished we hadn’t left things the way we had last night. Her closeness had gotten the better of me last night. I’d wanted to talk to her. I’d begun to tell her how pleased I was she’d had friends there for her these past few years, meaning to tell her that I should have been there for her. But then, we’d kissed, and there’d only been the heat and softness of her. Then, she’d broken things off with those words. “You care about it enough to stop omegas from unwanted mate bonds…But you didn’t care enough about me to do the same.” Those words had cut deep because she was right. I’d fucked up. I should have found a way to protect her as my mate, as well as ensuring I continued on my path of vengeance against Magnus.

As I sat here, nestled beside Betty, with Lina on the other side, I felt again as if I were getting a glimpse of what could have been.

As the day waned, Matthew got up from the opposite couch and said as if in a daze, “I guess we should all eat something.”

“How about Lina and I cook tonight?” I piped up. “Looks like you folks could do with sleep rather than food?” I offered.

Betty’s face lit up with enthusiasm as she clapped her little hands. “It’s biscotti night!” she exclaimed with all the delight a feverish child could muster.

“I don’t think spaghetti is a good idea tonight,” Lina said, glancing at Betty. “How about you see if you can manage some toast instead?”

“Toast is good,” Betty nodded, snuggling closer to me. The warmth radiating from her little body set off that protective surge through me. I wanted to be here for Betty. I wanted tonight to be a step toward making amends with Lina. I regretted not being there for her when it mattered in the past, but if I could be here now, it would prove I was trying to do better.

“That’s really kind of you, Stephen,” Emily remarked, glancing between me and Lina, but there was a moment where I caught them both looking too quickly away. That sense of uncertainty thickened in the air and prickled along the back of my neck.

“Actually, any chance I could crash over tonight?” I asked, determination spreading through me. “I could do with Lina’s help on that file I came for. We could get some work done once the little ballerina’s in bed.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Emily hesitated, adding awkwardly. “I don’t want you catching whatever Betty has.”

I frowned. If Betty’s fever was something I was likely to catch, sitting beside her all afternoon would have infected me, anyway. Besides, it was your typical shifter fever that young pups tended to come down with—the kind my mom had nursed me through when I was about four or five years old.

That feeling of suspicion wound through me again as the sense that something wasn’t quite right returned. I could see it in the way Emily exchanged a quick look with Lina, both of them conveying more than words could express.

Lina shifted slightly, glancing at Emily before turning her attention back to me. “Sorry, Em, we don’t want to impose on you and Matt. It wouldn’t be fair to you to have to make up another room anyway.”

“I’ll make the bed!” I said, a mixture of hope and urgency in my voice. “I want to help out, and Betty might like having me around.”

Betty, nestled comfortably between Lina and I, perking up at the mention of me staying. “Please, Auntie Lina! I want Uncle Stephen to stay!” Her little face beamed with excitement.

The warmth in her blue eyes ignited that protective surge within me once again, and my chest filled with emotion as I heard that she wanted me around, even if it was only for tonight.

“Okay then, sweetheart,” Lina said, her voice soft but laced with worry as she glanced back at me. I could see the internal battle she was having from the clouded look of her gaze, but I couldn’t help pressing my point.

I’d driven here to follow orders, but now I was here for different reasons—the need to bridge the distance between Lina and me was all-consuming. My instincts were telling me to be here for little Betty, too. I hadn’t listened to the mate bond that was thrumming in my chest in the past, and I was intent on damn well not making the same mistake.

Once Emily and Matthew had retired upstairs, Lina put cartoons on for Betty, filling the spacious living room with laughter and chattering voices. The open-plan kitchen felt warm and inviting, accented by the soft light spilling from elegant fixtures that hung low over the dining area. At the polished granite island, I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt and prepped a simple marinara sauce, the sweet scent of tomato, garlic, and herbs filling the space.

As I slid into my seat, Betty chirped, “Why you cut my toast like that?”

“It’s how my mom used to make them for me,” I said, nostalgia coloring my voice. “They’re called soldiers.” I mimed them marching on her plate and was rewarded with her giggles, filling the space with lightness.

I caught Lina watching me with a gentle smile that sent warmth cascading through me. The air around us swelled with anticipation. Was it wrong to want more? To wish she would tell me her secrets and share her dreams and regrets? My heart beat with urgency, willing time to march on so that I might be granted the privacy with her I craved.

“What is it, sweetie?” Lina asked, and for a foolish moment, I thought she was talking to me.

Betty squinted up at her, a frown creasing her brow. “You’re not eating it like Daddy does! Eat it the silly way!”

“You mean like this?” I exclaimed, slurping up my spaghetti. I was rewarded with peals of laughter from Betty, lightening the tension in the room.

After dinner, the evening was filled with light-hearted chatter and stories. Then Betty finally succumbed to sleep. Lina carried her up the stairs, and I was left alone with churning thoughts. I felt a stillness sweep through the house, and yet urgency coursed through my veins. I needed to confront Lina about everything lingering between us—the regrets of the past, the longing of the present, the future I couldn’t envision without her.

Feeling restless, I picked up the books that I’d read to Betty over the day, carrying them to the bookcase. I slid them neatly into place until a stubborn volume refused to budge. I tried to pull it out, but it angled strangely as I tugged. Then, the entire bookcase slid right, revealing a hidden corridor behind.

My heart raced as the corridor illuminated automatic lighting, and a pulse of adrenaline shot through me.

What the hell was a hidden room doing in Emily and Matt’s villa?

Automatic lighting lit up the corridor, and the suspicion that had been growing in my gut made me track down the corridor.

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