chapter 119
Tori's POV:
I hung up the phone.
Alexander's desperate plea to intervene in Hannah's detention echoed in my mind.
Grandma Eileen once said she would drop the charges against Hannah—for family peace, she'd said. I'd assumed that would be the end of it, that Hannah would walk free while justice remained elusive. But somehow, Hannah remained in custody.
Lucas must still be pulling strings behind the scenes.
I couldn't even count how many times he'd stepped in to help me now—the visible interventions alone were numerous, and I suspected there were countless others I knew nothing about.
His protection extended far beyond what I could see, like an invisible shield around my life.
Taking a deep breath, I descended the stairs, needing movement to process everything that had happened.
The hardwood was cool beneath my bare feet, grounding me in the present moment.
I'd been so consumed by the phone call that I hadn't registered the faint sounds coming from the kitchen or the savory aroma wafting through the air.
I froze at the bottom of the stairs. Lucas was home? I'd assumed he'd still be at the office handling the pack business.
He stood at the counter, his broad back to me, sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms as he chopped something with practiced efficiency.
The sight was so unexpected that I simply stared.
Lucas Grayson—the most powerful Alpha in Moonhaven, the cold, commanding businessman—was cooking in his kitchen.
I found myself walking across the kitchen and wrapping my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against his broad back. The warmth of his body seeped through his shirt, and I felt rather than heard his soft chuckle.
"Someone's hungry," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against my cheek.
"Not really, I—" My stomach chose that exact moment to betray me with a loud, undignified growl.
I groaned, burying my face deeper into his back to hide my embarrassment.
Lucas laughed, a rare, genuine sound that made my heart flutter.
He turned in my arms, still holding the wooden spoon in one hand as he gazed down at me with amusement dancing in his eyes.
His lips brushed mine in a feather-light kiss that ended too quickly.
"Food's almost ready," he murmured, his voice warm. "Go sit over there while I finish up."
I perched on the stool, watching as he returned to his task. His movements were fluid and confident—not the awkward attempts of someone rarely in a kitchen, but the practiced motions of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
"I didn't know you could cook," I admitted, resting my chin in my palm.
"There's a lot you don't know about me yet," he replied without turning. "But we have time."
Those simple words—we have time—sent an unexpected warmth through my chest. The casual certainty with which he included me in his future still felt surreal.
He placed a steaming mug before me. "Drink this. It'll help with the stress."
The tea smelled of lavender and chamomile, with something else I couldn't identify. I took a cautious sip, surprised by its pleasant, slightly sweet taste.
"It's a special blend," he explained, noticing my expression. "Contains herbs particularly effective for Omegas. Helps balance emotions after trauma."
I blinked at him. "You keep Omega-specific tea in your house?"
"I ordered it for you after our first meeting." His admission was matter-of-fact, as though stocking his home with items specifically for my biology was the most natural thing in the world.
"So you've had designs on me since we first met?" I asked, half-teasing but also genuinely curious.
Lucas's eyes met mine, intense and unwavering.
"Yes," he admitted without a trace of shame. "From the moment I saw you at that bus stop, I knew. Fated mates, Tori. My wolf recognized you immediately."
A frown formed between my brows. "But I didn't feel..." My voice trailed off as realization dawned.
Of course, I hadn't felt the connection. Tracy, my wolf, had been so damaged during those four years in Silver Fang. The suppressants, the isolation, the trauma.
Understanding softened Lucas's expression. He reached across the counter and took my hand, his thumb gently stroking my palm.
"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "One way or another, I would have found you, Tori."
His words settled around me like a warm blanket, both comforting and overwhelming.
I had no response that seemed adequate, so I simply nodded and sipped my tea in silence, watching him prepare what appeared to be a complete nutritional meal—lean protein, vegetables, and a complex carb.
Nothing too heavy but substantial enough to restore energy.
When he finally set a plate before me, the presentation was as perfect as any upscale restaurant. "Eat," he said simply.
I took a tentative bite, and my eyes widened in surprise.
The flavors exploded across my tongue—perfectly seasoned, expertly cooked, with a complexity I hadn't expected.
"Lucas, this is incredible," I said between bites, genuinely impressed. "I had no idea you could cook like this."
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching me with quiet pleasure.
"As long as you enjoy it, that's all that matters," he replied, his voice soft but carrying that unmistakable Alpha satisfaction of providing for his mate.
After finishing our meal, I moved to collect the dishes. "I should clean up. You cooked."
Lucas caught my wrist gently. "This is not your job. Go upstairs, take a hot shower. Relax."
I hesitated, feeling guilty about not contributing. He had done all the cooking while I just sat there, and now he wanted to clean up too? Washing dishes was the least I could do.
Lucas caught my hesitation and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face.
"What's wrong? Would you prefer I join you while you shower?" he suggested, his voice dropping to a provocative tone.
Heat rushed to my face, and I nearly dropped the plate I was holding.
"I—no—that's not—" I stammered, then promptly turned and fled upstairs, his deep chuckle following me across the room.
Upstairs, under the hot spray of the shower, I tried to process the strange domesticity of the moment we'd just shared. It felt... natural. As though we'd been doing this dance for years instead of days.
As steam clouded around me, I allowed myself a dangerous thought: what if this could last? This wish, once a distant impossibility, was growing stronger with each moment spent in his presence.
Twenty minutes later, I descended the stairs, hair still damp.
The sound of Lucas's voice drifted from the living room, low and measured. I paused, towel in hand, realizing he was on the phone.
"Just because you've just returned to Moonhaven and lost your previous connections doesn't mean you start from scratch. It's normal to find it challenging at first," Lucas said, his voice deep and rich.
He held his phone in one hand, his other elbow resting casually on the edge of the table. His long legs were crossed at the ankles, his posture relaxed yet commanding.
As he spoke, his deep eyes flicked up to meet mine.
From his mention of 'just returned to Moonhaven,' I deduced he was speaking to Vivienne—Lucas's first love in Morgan's words.