chapter 162
Tori's POV:
The grandfather clock in Lucas's study chimed three times as I heard his car pull into the driveway.
I'd been waiting in the main estate's guest room, trying to read the same page of a pregnancy guide for the past hour.
My lower back had been aching since dinner, a dull throb that made it impossible to find a comfortable position.
Tracy stirred restlessly in my mind, equally uncomfortable with the changes our body was undergoing.
He's home, she murmured, relief evident in her tone.
The door opened quietly, and Lucas appeared, still in his formal dinner attire from the Elder Council meeting.
His hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there this morning.
"You're still awake," he said softly, crossing the room to where I sat propped against the headboard. His eyes swept over me with that careful assessment I'd grown accustomed to—checking for any sign of discomfort or distress.
"Couldn't sleep," I admitted. "My back has been bothering me."
Lucas's expression shifted immediately from tired to concerned. He shrugged off his jacket, draping it over a chair, and rolled up his sleeves. "Turn around."
I shifted carefully, presenting my back to him. His hands settled on my shoulders, warm and steady, before beginning a slow, methodical massage down my spine.
"How was the dinner?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual even as his skilled fingers found a particularly tight knot.
"Political theater, as always." His tone was deliberately light, but I could hear the edge beneath it. "Nothing you need to worry about."
His hands moved lower, applying gentle pressure to my lower back. The relief was immediate and profound. I couldn't help the small sound of contentment that escaped me.
"That bad?" I murmured, my eyes drifting closed.
"Dylan made his usual inappropriate jokes. Charlotte Shepherd looked like a nervous rabbit. The food was acceptable." His thumbs worked in circular motions along my spine. "The company was tedious."
I smiled slightly.
Lucas had a way of dismissing the complex politics of Pack leadership with a few dry observations.
"You're worried about something," I said quietly.
His hands stilled for a moment before resuming their massage. "I'm always worried about something. It's an occupational hazard of being an Alpha."
"Lucas."
He sighed, his breath warm against the back of my neck. "Nothing that can't wait until morning. Right now, I'm more concerned about you and our pup."
Our pup. The words still sent a thrill through me every time he said them. Ten weeks pregnant, and it still felt surreal.
"The ache is better," I told him, leaning back slightly into his touch. "Thank you."
"You should have called me if you were uncomfortable." His voice held a note of reproach. "I would have come back earlier."
"You had important Pack business."
"You and our child are more important than any Pack business." He said it with such absolute certainty that my chest tightened. "Always."
His arms came around me, pulling me back against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, and the familiar scent of him—pine and winter frost—wrapped around me like a blanket.
"How are you feeling otherwise?" he asked, his lips brushing my temple.
"Tired. A little queasy in the mornings still. But Martha's ginger tea helps." I paused, then added, "I have a checkup at Moontouch Medical Center tomorrow afternoon."
"I'll take you."
I nodded, too exhausted to argue. The warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat were already pulling me under.
I burrowed deeper into his arms, letting his familiar scent—pine and winter frost—wrap around me like a blanket.
"Sleep, little wolf," he murmured against my hair, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles on my back.
Within moments, I was drifting, the ache in my lower back finally easing as I sank into the comfort of his presence.
---
The next morning, Lucas drove me to Moontouch Medical Center for my checkup.
The building gleamed in the sunlight, all glass and steel designed to catch and reflect the moon's phases even during the day.
"I'll go take care of the payment," Lucas said after we checked in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Wait here. I won't be long."
I nodded and settled into one of the plush waiting room chairs, idly flipping through a magazine about wolf pup development. The medical center was quiet this morning, with only a few other patients scattered throughout the lobby.
"Tori?"
I looked up to find Susan Shepherd seated in a wheelchair beside me, a small pharmacy bag resting in her lap. She looked elegant as always, her dark hair pulled back in a simple style, though there was a weariness around her eyes that spoke of old sorrows.
Alarm shot through me as I quickly stood. "Ms. Shepherd, are you alright? Are you ill?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that." Susan's smile faltered for a moment, surprise flickering across her features at my concern.
Then something shifted in her expression—a softening, a warmth that seemed to catch her off guard.
She gestured to the pharmacy bag. "I'm just here picking up some burn ointment for Charlotte."
Relief washed over me. "Thank God you're alright."
There was a brief pause, and Susan seemed to be studying me with an odd expression. Her hands fidgeted slightly with the pharmacy bag in her lap.
Finally, she seemed to come to a decision.
"Tori," she began, her voice softer now, almost hesitant, "You see, I'm having a personal art exhibition soon. " She paused, her gaze searching my face as if looking for something. "I would be glad if you would attend. It's next Friday evening at the Moonlight Gallery."
My eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Really? I—I would love to! I don't know much about art, but I'd be honored to come."
I'd sensed a certain distance in Susan during our previous encounters—a careful reserve that kept people at arm's length. I liked her, admired her quiet strength, but I'd assumed that wall would always be there. To receive a personal invitation from her felt unexpectedly special.
"Great," Susan's smile grew warmer.
But before I could analyze it further, she glanced at her watch.
"I should go—Charlotte will be wondering what's taking so long. "
She left before I could respond, and I stood there feeling oddly touched.
"Ready?"
I turned to find Lucas approaching, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. He must have seen Susan leaving.
"All set," I said, unable to contain my smile. "You'll never guess who I just ran into."
His hand settled on the small of my back as he guided me toward the exit. "Susan Shepherd."
"How did you—" I shook my head. "Of course you saw. Lucas, she invited me to her art exhibition! Next Friday at the Moonlight Gallery. Isn't that wonderful?"
Something flickered across his face—so quickly I almost missed it.
"That's great." He answered absentmindedly.
The drive back to the estate was quiet. Lucas's jaw was set, his eyes fixed on the road with unusual intensity. Through our bond, I could feel a complex tangle of emotions.
When we pulled through the estate gates, he helped me out of the car with his usual attentiveness.
Inside, he guided me to the living room and sat beside me on the couch, his hand finding mine. "Tori," he said carefully, "how do you feel about Susan Shepherd?"
The question surprised me. "I... I like her. She seems kind. Sad, but kind."
I paused, trying to articulate the feeling that had been nagging at me since our brief encounter. "There's something about her that feels... I don't know how to explain it. Familiar? Like there's some kind of connection, even though we barely know each other."
Lucas's expression tightened almost imperceptibly. His thumb traced patterns on my hand, a gesture I'd learned meant he was thinking carefully about his words.
"Lucas?" I said softly, a thread of worry creeping into my voice. His reaction was making me nervous. "Is something wrong? Do you not want me to go to the exhibition?"
"It's not that." He was silent for a long moment, his blue eyes studying my face with an intensity that made my heart race. "Tori, I need you to know something."