Page 41 of Pleasure and Mane
The small kitchen welcomed him with its copper pots and well-stocked pantry. Caius rolled up his sleeves and began preparing the chicken pasta dish that had been passed down through generations of Haider men—his great-grandfather's recipe, taught to him by Henry during those difficult years after the accident. The familiar motions of chopping herbs andsearing chicken grounded him, each step a meditation on how profoundly his life had changed.
Ten days. Ten perfect, impossible days since Gerri Wilder had orchestrated the arrival of his fated mate. Caius had initially resented the meddling, but now he wanted to send the matchmaker a case of the finest bourbon as thanks. Because Quinn had slipped into his life like she'd always belonged there. She laughed at his terrible jokes, challenged his assumptions about humans and pride dynamics, and responded to his touch like she'd been made just for him. Which, according to fate, she had been.
The past week had been a revelation. Despite his complete inexperience with romance, courting Quinn felt as natural as shifting into his lion form. He'd taken her on sunrise hikes where they'd made love on sun-warmed rocks, surprised her with picnic lunches at hidden waterfalls, and spent hours simply talking—about everything and nothing.
In bed, she was a goddess—responsive and generous, meeting his passion with her own. She'd taught him that pleasure could be both tender and wild, and that intimacy was about more than physical connection. With Quinn, he felt complete in a way he'd never known he was even broken.
As he stirred the pasta, Caius's expression darkened. The only shadow over their happiness was the Vincent Keale situation. Seven days of investigation had led to the inescapable conclusion that the wolf shifter was responsible for the pregnancy losses plaguing Leon. Every piece of evidence pointed to deliberate sabotage—poisoning innocent women and murdering unborn children for his own twisted agenda.
The Alpha in him demanded immediate action. Track Vincent down, tear out his throat, and hang his corpse in the town square as a warning to anyone else who dared threaten hispride. But Quinn had counseled patience, urged him to gather concrete proof and pursue justice through the proper channels.
Keep a level head,she'd said, her hand gentle on his chest as his lion raged for vengeance.We need to be smart about this. Your pride needs their Alpha to be strategic, not reactive.
She was right, of course. It was one of the many reasons he'd fallen so completely in love with her—Quinn saw past his protective instincts to the man beneath, challenging him to be better while never trying to diminish his strength.
Caius finished plating the pasta and lit candles on the small dining table, arranging everything with the same attention to detail he brought to his pride business. The soft light flickered across fine china that had belonged to his grandmother, and the rich aroma of garlic and herbs filled the air.
Perfect. Quinn deserved perfection.
He made his way back to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway as his chest constricted with overwhelming emotion. Quinn sat cross-legged on the bed, her notebook balanced on her lap as she wrote with complete absorption. The firelight from the living room cast a golden glow through the open doorway, highlighting the elegant curve of her neck and the way her lips moved silently as she crafted her words.
She looked like she belonged here—in his family's sanctuary, in his life, in his future. The sight of her peaceful contentment in this sacred space filled him with fierce possessiveness and tender protectiveness in equal measure.
This was his mate. His woman. His everything.
"Dinner's ready, beautiful," he said softly, not wanting to startle her from whatever poetic spell had captured her attention.
Quinn looked up with that radiant smile that always seemed to stop his heart, and Caius knew with utter certainty that he'dmove heaven and earth to keep her looking at him exactly like that for the rest of their lives.
Caius led Quinn out of the bedroom, his hand resting possessively on her back as he guided her to the small dining room. The candlelight flickered across the rustic table, casting glimmering shadows over the fine china and crystal wine glasses he'd arranged with meticulous care. The aroma of garlic filled the intimate space, mingling with the woodsmoke from the crackling fireplace.
"Caius, this is absolutely beautiful," Quinn breathed, her eyes reflecting the golden light as she took in the romantic tableau. "And it smells incredible. I had no idea the powerful Alpha of Leon was such a master chef."
Pride swelled in his chest at her obvious delight. He pulled out her chair with old-fashioned gallantry, his fingers brushing against her shoulders as she settled into the seat. The contact sent electric sparks racing through his body, his lion humming with satisfaction at even that simple touch.
"My great-grandfather's recipe," he said, settling into the chair beside her rather than across the table. He needed to be close to her, to breathe in her intoxicating scent. "Henry taught it to me after..." His voice caught slightly. "After my parents died. Said it was important to keep family traditions alive."
Quinn's expression softened with understanding, and she reached for his hand. Her fingers intertwined with his, and Caius marveled at how such a simple gesture could ground him so completely.
He lifted his wine glass, the crystal catching the candlelight. "To the beginning of a beautiful life together," he said, his voice thickening with emotion.
"To us," Quinn replied, her smile radiant as she clinked her glass against his. "And to whatever fate has in store for us next."
The pasta proved to be perfection—tender chicken in a rich cream sauce with just the right amount of garlic and fresh herbs. But Caius was more interested in watching Quinn savor each bite, the way her eyes closed in appreciation, and the soft sounds of pleasure she made that drove his alpha instincts wild.
"Tell me about your most embarrassing teenage moment," Quinn said suddenly, her eyes dancing with mischief. "I have a feeling the mighty Alpha wasn't always so composed and confident."
Caius nearly choked on his wine. "That's quite a change of subject."
"Come on, I'll share mine if you share yours," she cajoled, nudging his knee with hers under the table. "I bet you were adorable when you were all awkward and gangly."
"I was never gangly," he protested, though his lips twitched with amusement. "Lions aren't gangly."
"Everyone is gangly at fifteen," Quinn laughed. "Spill it, Alpha."
He set down his fork, considering. "Fine. When I was sixteen, Sarah Miller asked me to the spring formal. I was so shocked and nervous that instead of responding to her, I shifted and sprinted straight out of the classroom."
Quinn's eyes widened. "You didn't!"
