CHAPTER FIFTY SIX - ADRIEL

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX - ADRIEL
“Where are we?” Maricela asks. 

I can hear the irritation. I can hear the panic too, underneath it. 

I’ve not replied to her questions once. In fact, I’ve not said a word since we left the Packhouse and started walking. 

I can feel how on edge she is. I can feel her trembling beside me, but I haven’t let go of her arm. I haven’t wanted to. 

“You met most of my family last night.” I say. “So, I thought it would be good to meet the ones who weren’t there.”

Her eyes widen. “Levi?”

I shake my head. “No, not my brother.” 

Damn, I’d forgotten about him, forgotten about sending him off, it feels like I’ve forgotten a lot of things. That so much of the last month now is hazy, confused. I screw my face up for a second as a blinding flash of pain hits me. Only it’s gone as soon as I register it.

She looks up at me and pauses with an obvious look of concern in her eyes. “Are you okay?” She says.

My lips curl because she sounds like she cares, like all that hate and bitterness is suddenly long forgotten. For a second I want to bury myself in her, to drown myself in the scent of her because then I know I would be. “I’m fine.” I say.

She drops her gaze. “So who else was missing?”

“You’ll see.” I say leading her on, further to the woods.

She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t say a word, but I can feel the tension as we get further and further from the Packhouse. Does she think I’ve tricked her, that I’ve led her out here, all alone just to have my wicked way, as if I couldn’t do that back at the Residence?

While my Lycan may want that, no, may crave that, that’s not my plan. That’s not it at all.

I see the puff of smoke ahead, the signs that we’re getting close, but then I know this path so well I could walk it blindfolded and still never get lost. 

She frowns more when she sees the cottage. It’s thatched, cosy, everything you could imagine a place like this would look, nestled in between the trees, like something from an actual fairytale.

I open the tiny gate, making a mental note that the hinges need oiling again as they creak in protest. As I hold it open for her, she glances to my face then to the door, then back to me in confusion.

I could tell her. I could stop and tell her the entire story, but this way is easier, simpler perhaps.

I tap lightly on the pale blue front door then let myself inside. We make sure the patrols keep this place safe so technically there’s no need to lock it, but I know Aeron has told Layla again and again that we’d all sleep happier knowing it was properly secured.

“Hello?” I call out.

“Ads?”

She scrambles up, her pale face grinning at me in joy, as I step into the cluttered kitchen. She looks tired, but then, she always looks tired. It doesn’t help that her Mate is away again, dealing with the Rogues on our behalf, along with her two sons.

She flings herself into my arms like she hasn’t seen another person in months, and I feel a wave of guilt because I normally come down here more, but since Lia… no, I can’t blame her. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.

“Gods, it’s good to see you.” She breathes before her eyes fall on Maricela and they widen.

“Hi,” Maricela says awkwardly.

“Hi,” My aunt says, stepping back, obviously sizing her up before she looks back at me with her eyes narrowing.

Oh, I know my siblings have been here. I know Ryker comes by as often as he can. Khloe used to spend a lot of her free time with Layla until I sent her away and fucked that all up. As she scrutinises us both, I can tell what she’s thinking, that Maricela is not the Wolf I held a Mating Ceremony for. That she is the other one. 

“How is she?” I ask.

Layla takes the bait, obviously picks up that right now, I just need her to play along. “As good as ever. She’s awake if you want to see her?”

I nod, taking Maricela’s arm, deliberately touching her where her skin is bare so I can feel that wave, that hit, that flash of emotion.

She bites her lip, obviously reacting to it too, but she doesn’t fight, or jerk, or show any other display that she wants to get away and she lets me lead her into the bedroom beyond.

There’s a huge bed in the middle. To the side is all the medical equipment but most of it is off. It’s there more for an emergency than anything else.

My grandmother is sat up, glasses on, gazing into a book, but as we move closer, she looks up and her face erupts into a grin.

“Aeron,” She says. “You came to see me.”

I nod, playing the same rouse I do every time, despite the fact that my father never had long hair, that he doesn’t have tattoos on his neck like I do, and that my eyes are brown not blue. “How are you doing?”

She shrugs, shoving a bookmark in between the pages and then putting the book on the side table. “I’d be better if your sister wasn’t so bossy.”

I let out a laugh. My poor aunt Layla has put her life on hold for her mother, but I know she doesn’t see it like that.

“Are you feeling better?” I ask 

“Much better.” My grandmother declares. “I think I’ll be well enough to be up soon, to return.”

I nod, once more pretending. We have this conversation every time, her declaring she’s fit and well but there’s so much evidence to the contrary. The fact that she thinks she’s speaking to her son and not her grandson being the most blindingly obvious.

She glances at Maricela and then grins more. “Rosalie, you came too?”