Chapter 5 New beginnings

"I hope you won't be disappointed if I don't ask you to mark me, alpha Ryker", Elara said softly, not knowing whether to look into his eyes or look away, despite how concentrated his attention was on her.

He huffed a small laugh. "Don't call me Ryker, only unimportant people call me that, call me Lucien", he said, lifting his hand to her face to remove a speck of dust from her cheek.

Elara didn't even feel the slightest bit unsafe, even though she had been slapped by Kai not too long ago. Ryker – no, Lucien – didn't incite the feelings of trauma in her.

"I'm not an important person", she said, deciding finally to lower her gaze, she couldn't look into his eyes when he was staring at her like that.

"Oh but you are my mate, and soon, my wife", Lucien said, lowering his head to kiss her hand, finding her eyes again. "Albeit a contracted one", he added as an afterthought.

"I haven't even agreed to be your wife", Elara felt an unwanted storm of butterflies ravaging her stomach and climbing into her lungs.

"I can convince you", he grinned, leaning in closer. She could see the flecks of icy blue in his eyes, they weren't just a monotone silver. He smelled like sandalwood, earthy without being dirty, and sweet without being sugary. Elara couldn't help but lean closer too, if only to smell him more.

This man, who ruled with power, was looking at her as though she were something rare and unbreakable all at once.

"I don't think you'll have to try very hard," she said finally, voice barely above a breath, as if afraid the moment might scatter like mist if she spoke too loud.

Lucien tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curling just slightly. "No?"

She shook her head slowly, eyes still on his, as though she were tracing the shape of a new truth with her gaze. "I'm already thinking about it."

Something shifted in his expression, it went from teasing to tender. He didn't speak, just reached for her hand again and brushed his thumb across her knuckles, like he'd heard an explicit agreement in her quiet words.

And perhaps, in a way, he had.

"Take your time, I won't rush you", he said in a lower tone and lifted his other hand to her head, bringing her even closer and planting a kiss on her forehead. Elara let out a whoosh of air from her lungs, this felt so intimate, maybe even more intimate than all the kisses she saw and heard Kai and Anya sharing during their bouts of cheating.

She was basically in his embrace and she could now smell hints of her own sugary pastry scent intermingled with his woodsy musk, unable to trace where one began and the other ended.

"Thank you", she whispered, looking up at him. The moment felt too fragile for her to use her normal voice, and she wasn't even sure her vocal cords would work properly even if she tried.

Lucien looked down at her, still in his embrace, and she decided to just fall into his eyes. It would only be for a short while, and she only wanted to examine the various colors dancing across them anyways, it wasn't a big deal. Ronan had come looking for Lucien to deliver a very dramatic, and perhaps highly unnecessary update about the status of the wine shipment to the Shadowfang pack, mainly because he wanted to complain, not because anything was actually wrong.

He had seen the other man follow the girl he announced as his mate outside into the courtyard and he was certain Lucien would be there, it completely skipped his mind that the mate lady might also be there.

He turned the corner, already forming some half-baked quip in his head about how Lucien probably scared the vineyard workers into fermenting the grapes faster when he stopped in his tracks.

What he saw wasn't the cold, ruthless Lucien, not even the mildly amused Lucien, who was already a fantastically rare breed. No, this Lucien looked... soft. Peaceful. His arms were loosely circled around the woman Ronan had only glimpsed from afar, the mysterious mate, her head tilted up and her eyes glued to his like she was listening to music only they could hear. Her hand was resting gently against Lucien's chest, and their foreheads were nearly touching. If Ronan squinted, he'd say it was actually a romantic painting. One of those sappy ones that made you a bit sick and wistful at the same time.

He blinked once.

Twice.

And then, with his usual lack of restraint, he blurted, "My poor eyes."

The effect was immediate.

The woman flinched ever so slightly out of Lucien's embrace, her breath catching as though she'd only just remembered how lungs worked. Her fingers twitched once, twice, before she clasped them together tightly, like she was trying to keep them from escaping. Her weight shifted from foot to foot in a subtle, anxious rhythm.

Ronan narrowed his eyes slightly, still very much in the danger zone. Huh. That was familiar. The awkward little shuffle-step, the fluttery hands, the blinking too fast like her brain was buffering mid-sentence, he did those. He did those exact things. Especially when Lucien gave him that look.

Which, speaking of, Lucien was giving him right then.

Lucien didn't flinch, nor twitch. He didn't even blink. He just fixed Ronan with a stare so breathtakingly neutral it transcended into violence. It was the kind of look that didn't say "I'm angry," but rather, "I have the power to kill you and I'm currently deciding whether it's worth the energy."

The air shifted. It got colder. He was sure the birds stopped chirping. Perhaps somewhere, a squirrel fell out of a tree from sheer anxiety.

Ronan grinned weakly, hands raised in mock surrender. "Kidding! I'm kidding. Obviously. Beautiful moment. Ten out of ten. I'll just... retreat."

He started backing away. Slowly. Carefully. One step at a time.

"You two continue. Pretend I was never here. I was never here."

He tripped over a root on his way out and swore under his breath. He dared a glance back, Lucien hadn't moved, he was still watching.

Ronan turned and bolted.

He wondered what could be so special about the new lady, and also the exact sequence of nervous tics that she shared with him were worth considering, it was a familial thing, so she either had extended exposure to someone from his family or she was in his family, no one else had the exact movements in that perfect order.

It was an evolutionary adaptation to activating their wolf. Everyone in the Ellis family had to go through those range of motions during the peak of the moon to know what their true wolf was.

The woman was confused, Ronan would make sure to investigate her.