Chapter 106: Chapter~106~Company's coming.
Harley~
The 4:00 AM silence was shattered when the first heavy blow struck the front door. Beside me, the mattress groaned, and so did Nick as he pulled away from me.
He was on his feet instantly, charged, taking his heat with him and leaving the sheets cold. He pressed a dry, hurried kiss to my brow and muttered a low "Stay" that vibrated against my skin.
Then he was gone, the rhythmic thud-thud of his bare heels retreating down the hallway. My brain was still thick with sleep until Rae's mental voice spiked, sharp in my ears. 'Harley, it's a woman. She's carrying a scent like scorched sugar, and it's aimed right at our mate.'
The covers can't bind me, and my soles burned against the bedroom rug as I scrambled for traction. I nearly lost my balance before hitting the hardwood. In the living room, the air felt claustrophobic.
A woman was there, her movements fluid and desperate as she tried to weld herself to Nick's chest. He didn't waver, his hands like stone pillars across his chest as he glared at her.
"This isn't happening, Delilah," Nick snapped. The sound of his voice was like a whip cracking in the small room. His jaw was tight enough to snap a bone, while she fumbled to hook the strap of a crumpled sundress back over her shoulder. "You're leaving. Now."
The bitter tang of adrenaline flooded my mouth. 'I'm going to tear her throat out, Rae.'
'No, Harley, think of Etta. Nick will handle it.'
Nick's gaze locks onto mine, and he holds it as he traverses the room. The soft, heavy slap of his bare soles against the floorboards is the only sound, cutting through the sudden tension. His arm is solid and warm, settling securely around my waist, pulling me to his side.
"Delilah," Nick says, and I love the way his voice vibrates against my ribs, "this is my mate, Harley. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be by your Alpha's side?"
Her eyes flick downward, scanning the curve of my belly, before tracing up to my face, and finally resting on Nick. She tilts her head, a practiced, calculated movement. "That's what I came to tell you," she says, the feigned concern in her voice falling flat. "Sean is getting worse. By the day."
Rage vibrates from my head to my toes, a hot, buzzing sound in my ears. Nick holds me tighter until his muscles turn to stone.
"How did you know we were here?" I asked, staring at the artificial, plastic concern on her face.
"She watches me," Nick replied, his gaze icy. "My Luna and I are returning to the pack today. When Sean recovers, I'm telling my parents and him about the affair, Delilah. It's over."
She scoffed, a sharp, bitter sound. "So that's it? You think because she's carrying the next generation of Reins, you'll just be forgiven?"
"No," Nick answered, shaking his head, "but neither will you. It's about time."
Delilah took one last lingering look at my ass lined with daggers before moving toward the door and slamming it behind her. The air still felt charged with lingering toxicity after Delilah's exit.
My hand gets heated. 'Get your daughter, Rae!'
'I'm working on it, breathe, Harley.'
As the force vibrates the wooden frame and the keys shake on the hook, Nick moves and throws the deadbolt, filling the air with a heavy clack. Then he turned, wrapped himself around my back, and steered me back toward our bedroom. "I'm really sorry," he said, his voice a low rumble. "She does this every time I come home."
"But now, when Sean is so sick.....why would she be here?" I asked, settling back into bed.
"You never know with Delilah," he murmured, but his voice trailed off as a second pounding on the front door shattered the moment. "Stay here, please," he said, pointing a finger for emphasis before heading back out.
My shoulders finally dropped when a familiar, cheerful greeting from the delivery driver came through the door. Out the window, I watched them as they unloaded the car.
Nick brings in the last load, and the front door clicks shut, followed by the heavy, rhythmic thud of him returning down the hall. "The living room is full." He slides back under the covers with me.
I'm not ready for the morning; I instantly burrow into the warmth of his chest. "Do you think she's gone to confess?"
His arms wrap around me, iron-tight. "Not until she figures out how to keep her hands clean in her own story."
"It'll be okay, Nick." I press my nose against his collarbone, breathing in his scent, which grounds me, pulling me into a quiet space where the storm outside can't reach. My eyelids are heavy, and I give in to them.
The hiss of the shower wakes me, and the sheets beside me are already cool. Steam rolls out of the bedroom as Nick fills the doorway. A tired smile tugs at his mouth as he lifts me from the bed, carries me into the bathroom, and pulls his cotton t-shirt over my head.
By noon, we're cutting through the heat towards his pack. Nick is unnervingly quiet; the muscles in his forearm jump beneath my hand. "We're going to get through this," I say, trying to bridge the silence.
He glances at me as we take the final turn, his gaze intense. "I know."
Moon Hill's massive size erupted from the horizon as a dense, dark-green shock against the white-hot desert heat. We drove on into the unfolding waves, full of the scent of pack land.
As we approached the border of Nick's territory, a guard materialized from the shade of a juniper tree, stepping into our path. He froze, his eyes widening with a startled, haunted look.
Still, he immediately stepped aside, acknowledging his Alpha. We continued to a sweeping horseshoe driveway, pulling up to a sprawling, multi-tiered pack house climbing the hillside.
High on the wooden gable, a carved wolf's head, weathered by the sun, stared down with fixed, painted eyes. "This is it," Nick said as he put the car in park and killed the engine.