Chapter 6 That Strange Feeling

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(Back in Ambrose City)

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Delilah always knew how to make Willa laugh. She played games, told outrageous jokes, and let her eat anything she wanted.

She never said, "Sweetie, you can't have that, but Mommy can make you something else."

When Willa was tired or cranky, Delilah didn't sigh or get frustrated-she just scooped her up and asked if she wanted ice cream.

But now, sitting in the vast, glittering emptiness of the mansion, a dull ache settled in Willa's chest. The kind of feeling she could not understand.

Sunlight streamed across the lavish breakfast spread, making her golden hair shine. The same colour she inherited from her mother.

"Daddy.?" she began, her voice small.

"Yes, darling?"

Willa's voice caught. Biting her lips, she looked at him hoping he would look back at her, "Has Mommy said. if she's not going to call anymore?"

For three days, there was nothing. No calls. No texts.

At first, she'd liked it. No one telling her what to do. Saying no to what she desires.

The freedom from her mother's daily check-ins. No more stiff conversations where she had to pretend to care about school or recount her day with friends.

It felt like a victory.

But soon, her heart began to waver.

Mom never just. disappeared. She always kissed her forehead-even when she was angry, tired, or running late. Even when she wasn't perfect. she was always there.

Feeling the awkward silence, Wesley looked at his daughter's conflicted face and opened his mouth to speak, but his phone rang.

He smiled seeing the number on the screen, "Delilah, what is it?"

Willa watched her father leave the table to take the call, wondering what couldn't be said in front of her. He never used to walk away when Mom called, though their conversations were always short and cold. She'd hardly ever seen him smile at Mom, even on the phone.

"Willa," Wesley said, returning abruptly. "Something's come up. Henry will take you to school today."

"Is Aunt Delilah in trouble again?"

"Don't worry, I'll handle it." He ruffled her hair, grabbed his suit jacket, and was gone.

A confusing mix of emotions swirled inside Willa. She'd actually been looking forward to Dad driving her. Mom always drove her to school, even when she had meetings. Mom stayed up all night when she had a fever. Mom braided her hair exactly the way she liked it-even when she was exhausted.

She swallowed her disappointment. Aunt Delilah must be in real trouble for Daddy to rush off like that. He didn't mean to break his promise. She had to be understanding.

She checked her phone one more time, sighed, and stared out the window.

Still, no call coming.

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Wesley pushed open the door to Delilah's suite, his voice tight with concern, with his eyes scanning the room with concern, "Delilah, darling, what's wrong? Why are you leaving so suddenly?"

The morning sun streamed in, catching the delicate silk of her chemise and the subtle glow of her makeup. She was a vision of curated perfection.

He swallowed his saliva seeing her wearing a dress revealing the sexy curves of her body. The memory of him kissing her smooth skin, hunger to be inside of her again, made him felt uneasy. The strange desire was again crawling under his skin.

He got closer to reach out to her. To feel her again.

"I have to go back to Mystic Town, Wesley," she said, the curve of her back accentuated as she bent to arrange a suitcase-an unconscious, yet potent, invitation.

"Did they call you?" He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, inhaling the intoxicating scent of gardenias that clung to her skin. Just a hint was enough to stir his

desire.

"Don't go. We just found each other again. I haven't had nearly enough of you." His hand slid familiarly beneath the hem of her slip. As he felt the warmth between her legs, he groaned.

Feeling the hard evidence of his want pressed against her, Delilah allowed herself a faint, unseen smile.

She stilled his wandering hand but arched against him in a way that made his breath catch. "I can't stay. You're still married to Riana."

"Delilah –"

"What will people say if they think I'm the reason your marriage fell apart?" She turned, catching her lower lip delicately between her teeth. Brushing her lips teasingly against his, she whispered, "I don't want to be the villain, Wesley."

Wesley traced her lips, his gaze darkening. "My pack knows you're the Luna I've chosen. Let them talk. I stopped caring long ago."

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "But what if Willa grows up to hate me?"

"She won't," he murmured, his mouth finding the sensitive spot below her ear. "She adores you."

A glint of triumph flashed in Delilah's eyes even as her body melted against his. "And Riana? Seven years is a long time. She's still my sister. I don't want-"

"She was never supposed to be my wife," Wesley growled, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.

That familiar feeling of losing control washed over him. He prided himself on his discipline, but around Delilah, it evaporated like mist.

Is this the pull of true mates? Or pure lust for her body?

He wondered fleetingly before urgency took over. He tugged the strap of her slip down. "You are my mate."

From an angle he couldn't see, Delilah's lips curled into a cunning smile. She wrapped her legs around his waist, a silent surrender. "Ah, Wes –"

Feeling her warmth again, made Wesley tore her dress revealing her body for him to conquer, "I want you, all of you"

"It's my fault, Wesley. If I had found you sooner, maybe that night."

"That night Riana must have drugged me," he snarled, thrusting into her with raw need. "She lied. I woke up with no memory, and suddenly we were forced into marriage because she was pregnant. And I was made the villain for asking questions."

They moved together, rocking the table she was placed on. The sound of them moaning with desire filled the room as Wesley could not control his strange desire wanting more from her. "You are my mate, darling. I'm sure of it"

"Don't stop. Don't.. stop"

"I would never have married that woman if it weren't for the power this marriage promised," he rasped, moving inside her with a possessiveness that bordered on

rough.

Fragmented images from eight years ago flickered at the edge of his mind but were quickly smothered by Delilah's soothing whispers. "Oh, I know, my King," she crooned like a siren in his ear.

"You never had a choice. But I will always be here for you. Always."

*

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(Back at the Winters Mansion)

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That evening, the moment Wesley stepped through the door, Willa flew into his arms, her small frame tense with urgency. "Daddy!"

He crouched, catching her gently. "What is it, sweetheart?"

He expected her to say she missed her mother. It was her usual pattern whenever she was upset, and Riana had always been the one to patiently untangle her worries.

In some small, grudging part of himself, Wesley acknowledged that while Riana had been a disappointing wife, she was, at the very least, a competent mother. Perhaps, there were times, a devoted wife.

"Daddy," Willa's voice was all wrong-small and trembling like a wounded pup, "is it true about Aunt Delilah leaving?"

Wesley sighed, finally meeting her gaze. His eyes-the same stormy winter gray as hers-were unreadable. "Yes."

"Why?" The single word hit him with more force than a slap. Tears welled and spilled over her pink cheeks. "Why didn't you stop her? Mommy left, and now she's leaving too? I want to be with Aunt Delilah!"

Wesley was taken aback by the depth of her attachment, one that seemed to eclipse her bond with her own mother. How could he explain the complexities of fated bonds and grown-up conflicts to a child?

"I've spoken with Delilah, darling," he said, smoothing her hair. "She has important business back in Mystic Town. But don't worry, we will be joining her."

"Really?" Willa's eyes widened, hope flickering through her tears.

Wesley offered a gentle smile. "Yes. We won't be separated. Does that make you happy?"

As Willa bounced away, her spirits visibly lifted, a wave of relief washed over him.

The only complication now was ensuring Riana had the sense to keep her distance and

not disrupt their new life once they returned.

Later, with a glass of whisky on one hand, he dialed Riana's number. It rang, then went to voicemail.

Again. And again.

Frustration mounting, he finally connected with his Beta, David, his voice sharp with impatience. "Sync me to Riana's location. Now."

The reply that came was simple, yet it dropped like a stone in his gut.

"Alpha," David's voice was careful, neutral. "Luna Riana resigned from the company this morning."