Page 19 of The Alpha's Mail Order Bride

“Are you alright?” The question shocked her. She looked up to find Darion’s bright eyes boring into her, something like concern reflected in their depths. “You seem distracted,” he clarified, his tone softer than usual.

“No way,” she said, hoisting a smile she didn’t quite feel onto her lips. “I’m focused on how good this movie is. You’ll never guess how the heroine saves the hero from the monster he’s becoming.” Darion’s eyebrow lifted a fraction of an inch. “The power of love,” she supplied wisely. She knew better than to hope to win laughter from Darion, but a few times she’d caught a twitch of his lips or a huff of air that might have been a stifled chuckle. This time, though, his face didn’t shift.

“You don’t have to do that.” His eyes hadn’t left her face, and her smile suddenly felt stilted. “Pretend. To be more cheerful than you truly feel.”

“I’m not pretending to be—” she started, but it was impossible to keep up the pretense in the face of that unblinking silver gaze. “Maybe a little,” she admitted, feeling an odd shiver of vulnerability running through her as she let her smile drop.

“Why?”

“Just trying to be a good houseguest.” She shrugged, drawing her knees a little closer to her chest. “You’ve been putting up with me all week, the least I can do is—try to be pleasant company.”

“No need to try. I like having you here.” He said it so easily that for a moment she thought she must have imagined it, but when she looked at him, his eyes were back on the screen, apparently utterly absorbed in the saccharine dialogue between the hero and his love interest.

“There’s the moon again,” he pointed out, as though what he’d just said hadn’t been the conversational equivalent of a bomb going off. “You humans really are obsessed with the moon, aren’t you?”

Great, she thought crossly as her heart drummed wildly against her ribcage. Drop something like that on her and then go straight back to the movie. Perfect. By Darion’s usual standards, that may as well have been an impassioned declaration of undying love. What the hell was she supposed to do with that? She drew her knees closer to her chest, pressing her chin against her forearms to hide the smile she couldn’t keep off her face. It had taken him all week, but he’d admitted to liking her company. Small as that concession may have been, she couldn’t help feeling like she’d won a huge victory…a bigger triumph even than the day her ex’s cat had climbed willingly into her lap.

Maybe—just maybe—this wouldn’t be their last night together after all.

Chapter 10 - Darion

Darion had been dreading the Council meeting all week. He’d avoided all contact with any of the other Alphas, not wanting to field any questions about his houseguest, or worse, to tolerate any knowing looks or insinuations about the nature of their relationship. Early in the week, he saw to it that the island’s patrols were redirected away from his cottage, not wanting any curious passersby to pry into his business. And then he settled in grimly to wait for the week to end.

At least Claire was putting a brave face on the situation. He was sure she had imagined her time here much differently—he could only imagine the kinds of promises his brother had made. Being stuck in a cottage with a grumpy old wolf like him probably paled in comparison. But what could he really do? Some people would have been able to socialize with her, entertain her that way, but he knew better than to pretend to be that kind of person. The best he knew how to do was to make sure the kitchen was well stocked with food, and then to leave her to her own devices as much as he could.

For the first few days, he was most worried that she’d be bored, cooped up in the house like a prisoner with nothing to do. But she seemed perfectly content to stare at her computer for long stretches, her fingers rattling across the keys in a dance that could hypnotize him if he let himself stare too long. Darion found himself wondering what she was reading, what she was writing, what she was thinking. If he was honest, he found himself thinking about her a lot more than he’d anticipated. And as their week together neared its end, he came to the surprising realization that he wasn’t anywhere near as eager for her to leave as he’d expected. If anything, he was actually feeling the faintest trace of reluctance to see her go.

Was it just selfishness on his part, he wondered? After all, Claire went out of her way to be a good houseguest. She was respectful and quiet, never leaving a mess behind, always quick to tidy up after herself. They took turns cooking, but Claire always leaped to do the dishes afterwards. The first few times he came home to find her in the living room, it had been a shock—but as the days went on, he found himself looking forward to seeing her curled up on the couch, or stretched out in the hammock out back, basking in the sun with that faint smile on her pretty lips.

She had to go, he kept reminding himself. This was no place for a human, and as polite and accommodating as she’d been about the mix-up, he knew that the sooner they got her back home, the better. Better for her, to get back to her life…and better for him, too. This week had confirmed that it wasn’t good for him to have other people in his house. He was thinking about her far too much; it was like having a catchy tune stuck in his head, except instead of a song it was the impression of a whole person. Even when he wasn’t with her, it was like she was still there, that ever-present smile on her lips, making him forget there was anything else in the world to think about but her…

They walked to the Kurivon community center together for the Council meeting. Darion noticed the sharp way she was looking around, and realized with a jolt that this was a part of the island that she’d never have seen before. He looked around with fresh eyes, imagining what a newcomer would be seeing. An especially humid, overcast day—sure signs that a storm was brewing—a handful of recently-constructed cottages, and the occasional passerby. Nobody looked particularly shocked to see Claire at his side, which told him that word must have spread of the visitor to the island…but from the vivid curiosity on the faces of the wolves they passed, he surmised that not much information beyond that had gotten out. Good, he thought darkly. Let them wonder, and let them keep their questions to themselves. That was one upside to being the island’s resident grouchy old hermit. People didn’t tend to ask you questions unless they absolutely had to.

The first thing he noticed was that the chairs were arranged differently. Usually, the Council sat some distance apart, their seats facing Renfrey’s table at the front of the room. It was an arrangement that had its roots in ancient tradition, when meetings like this had taken place under the moon and stars of Halforst, their home on the other side of the portal at Kurivon’s heart. Darion had come a long way when it came to deviations from tradition, especially over the last year, but it still ruffled him to see that the chairs had instead been dragged into a small, intimate circle. There was something far too informal about it. What were they, workmates on their lunch break, or Kurivon’s leaders?

He was still seething when they took their seats, not bothering to hide his annoyance. The seats were already half full, and the informal arrangement meant that the Alphas were talking and laughing amongst themselves. He’d almost forgotten that Claire was beside him—that was, until Renfrey’s mate Syrra moved across the circle to take the chair on her other side, smiling as she made quick introductions around the group. Claire looked grateful and relieved to be included at last, and Darion folded his arms across his chest and sank back into his chair, not sure whether he was more furious with the situation or with himself.

“I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you,” the senior lorekeeper was saying to Claire, her blue eyes bright. “When Renfrey told me there was another human on the island, I could hardly believe him.”

Claire sat bolt upright in her seat, her face lighting.

“Wait—you’re not a wolf?”

Syrra shook her head, smiling. “My pack adopted me when I was a baby, but my eyes gave it away.”

“Your eyes,” Claire said thoughtfully. “Oh! So wolves all have those silver eyes? I thought it might just be a coincidence,” she added, glancing up at Darion. “I’ve only met a few people here.”

Darion could see her fingers twitching with the urge to take notes, and he fought the urge to break in and cut the conversation short. Claire was fiercely, desperately curious about wolves—he’d spent much of the week avoiding talking to her whenever he could, knowing how difficult it was to resist the magnetism of her curiosity. The more he shared with her about their kind, the more difficult it would be to send her home. To hear the island’s senior lorekeeper launching into a frank discussion of their kind was infuriating—partly because, he realized with a jolt of embarrassment, he was jealous of the fascinated attention that she was getting from Claire.

And with that realization, he knew he had to get Claire out of here sooner rather than later. Clearing his throat, he rose to his feet, the sudden motion silencing the conversations taking place around the circle.

“Is this a meeting or not?” he said gruffly. “Are we all assembled?”

“Yes, thank you, Darion,” Renfrey said testily. It ought to have been him that opened the meeting, of course; unforgivably rude of Darion to break in the way he had. But he didn’t want to spend another second in this room if he could help it. “The Council is assembled—thank you all for coming. Senior Lorekeeper Syrra is here too, which we appreciate. We also extend a warm welcome to Claire, a guest of Darion, and of Kurivon itself.”

There was something strange about the way the Alpha was speaking, and it took Darion a moment to realize that it was because he was speaking English. Council meetings usually took place in the native language of Halforst—but, of course, that would have been somewhat alienating to Claire. English was alienating to Darion, he reflected resentfully, but nobody seemed to mind about that. He sank into his chair with his jaw tight, aware that his temper was getting the better of him as the minutes passed but unable to do anything about it.

“It’s good that we have Claire with us,” Renfrey moved on briskly, his gaze lingering on Darion for just long enough to indicate that he was well aware of his foul mood. “Especially given that her presence here is the main reason for this meeting. I hope Darion filled you in on what was discussed in your absence last week?”

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