IV

IV
     Trey was quite accustomed to the woods and shortcuts we could go through to avoid running into Mariamme. Who was I kidding? Of course he did. He'd lived his entire life in these territories as a human and as a wolf.

To avoid my feet from hurting from the long walk, he hoisted me up his back and walked smoothly through the woods, without as much as struggling with my weight as he did so.

Thirty minutes later, we neared a clearing, I could spot a building in the distance, looming overhead. I couldn’t refer to this as a house, and it was a far stretch from the cabin. It was a fucking mansion. The biggest I'd ever since in my entire life even growing up as an Alpha’s daughter.

"We're not going in," he told as he dropped me to my feet. Eyeing the building as if trying to see if anyone could have been watching from the inside. "I don't trust my siblings to not tattle."

"Your siblings? What about your parents?"

He said nothing in response, just dipped his hand into his pocket and provided a key. He nudged his head in the direction of a midnight black Audi parked just outside the mansion with short metal gate was deeply rooted into the ground few feet away from where we stood. I followed after him, my fingers trembling, accessing the building the most I could in just short span of time. Large curtained windows set in solid concrete walls and burnt red tiles on the roof. Stone statues guarding the entrance, a freshly trimmed lawn, flowering bushes and sunlight reflecting off the surface of a pool on a typical warm summer day. It was his personal place of solace, where he seldomly came anytime he wanted peace from the outside world.

A big house, the kind in which most kids dreamed of growing up. Secluded among trees, it had a big balcony, a screened-in front porch, a free-standing garage and even a gazebo, though it seemed covered beneath layers upon layers of snow, I could still see all and couldn’t deny the pang of intimidation that bit through me.

Trey led me toward the sleek black Audi, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. My heart raced as I took in every detail of the imposing mansion behind us. It was hard to imagine him growing up here. The sheer size of the place dwarfed even the Alpha's house I’d known as a child.

As we approached the car, Trey unlocked it with a press of a button, the lights flashing in acknowledgment. He opened the passenger door for me, his smirk widening when I hesitated. “What’s the matter, princess? Not used to being chauffeured around in style?”

I rolled my eyes, stepping forward to slide into the seat. Just as I settled in, the leather cool against my skin, something caught my eye. A feminine figure stood on the mansion’s balcony, her form obscured slightly by the shadows. Her gaze seemed fixed on us, and a shiver ran down my spine.

“Trey,” I said, my voice low, almost hesitant. “There’s someone up there. On the balcony.”

He followed my gaze, squinting briefly before a grin spread across his face. “Oh, that’s just Sarah.” His tone was light, dismissive. “My little sister. She probably thinks I’m sneaking off to cause trouble again.” He shot me a teasing glance. “She’s not wrong.”

I frowned, still uneasy. “Are you sure she’s not going to tell anyone? I don’t want—”

“She won’t,” he interrupted, shutting my door gently before circling to the driver’s side. “Sarah’s not like that. Besides,” he added with a wink as he slid into the seat beside me, “she knows better than to mess with me.”

Something about his carefree demeanor didn’t quite soothe the nerves twisting in my stomach, but I forced myself to relax as the engine roared to life. The soft purr of the car was almost hypnotic as we pulled away from the mansion, the sunlight filtering through the trees.

For the first few minutes, I couldn’t shake the sense of unease. My fingers tapped against my thigh, my mind racing with thoughts of Mariamme’s reaction if she returned to find me gone. Trey noticed, of course—he always did.

“You’re going to wear a hole in your jeans if you keep that up,” he said, glancing at me with a crooked smile.

“I just…” I sighed, staring out the window as the forest blurred past. “I don’t want Mariamme to lose it. She’ll be furious if she comes back and I’m not there.”

Trey chuckled softly, one hand drumming against the steering wheel in time with the music playing softly through the car’s speakers. “Relax, Feyre. We’ll be back before she even knows you’re gone. Promise.”

I wasn’t entirely convinced, but the soothing melody and the steady hum of the car began to chip away at my tension. Trey’s confidence was infectious, and before long, I found myself leaning back into the seat, the wind from the open window tugging at my hair.

As we sped down the winding road, the sunlight dancing through the trees, I let myself get lost in the moment. The music was soft, a gentle acoustic guitar paired with a deep, soulful voice that seemed to seep into my bones. Trey tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the beat, his carefree energy impossible to ignore.

For a little while, it was easy to forget the mansion, Sarah’s watchful eyes, and even Mariamme’s potential wrath. It was just us, the open road, and the music weaving between us like a shared secret.

The closer we got to the city, the more the world changed around me. The woods faded into open fields, then into clusters of houses, and finally into a labyrinth of towering skyscrapers that stretched toward the snow-laden sky. I pressed my face to the window, staring at the shimmering buildings. Their glass exteriors reflected the soft white of the falling snow, a stark contrast to the endless gray clouds above.

It was breathtaking. Intimidating.

The city was alive, even in the dead of winter. People moved hurriedly along the sidewalks, bundled in thick coats and scarves as snowflakes clung to their hair. Neon signs flickered and buzzed despite the gloom, casting vibrant colors onto the damp pavement below. Sleek cars whizzed by, their headlights cutting through the haze of falling snow. I’d never seen anything like it. My world had always been smaller—quieter.

“Never been to the city, huh?” Trey asked, his voice breaking through my thoughts.

I shook my head, my breath fogging up the glass as I continued to take it all in. “Never.”

He chuckled, and I could feel his gaze on me even as he kept one hand loosely draped over the steering wheel. “You’re staring like you’ve never seen a building before.”

“I haven’t seen anything like this before,” I replied, turning to look at him. He had one hand resting on the gearshift, his other loosely gripping the wheel, his expression somewhere between amused and relaxed.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said nonchalantly, like these colossal buildings and bustling streets were no big deal. Like the world beyond my cabin in the woods wasn’t something extraordinary. “What do you want for lunch?”

Lunch? The question felt jarring after everything I’d just seen. My stomach growled loudly, answering for me, but I hesitated. There were so many options. Everywhere I looked, signs advertised cafes, diners, and restaurants. The sheer variety was overwhelming.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.

Trey glanced at me, one eyebrow quirking in amusement. “You’re indecisive.”

“No,” I said quickly. “It’s just... there’s so much to choose from.”

“Indecisive,” he repeated with a smirk, then turned the wheel sharply to the right, pulling into a small side street. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

A few minutes later, we stopped in front of a cozy café tucked between two towering buildings. Its dark brick façade and frosted windows made it stand out against the modern steel-and-glass jungle. Snow blanketed the sidewalk, the steps, and the tiny outdoor tables, which were, thankfully, unoccupied in this weather.

Trey stepped out first, shutting his door with a soft thud before circling the car to open mine. “Come on,” he said, offering his hand.

As I slid out of the car, I noticed them. Women. They were everywhere—walking past, sitting in nearby cars, peering from the windows of surrounding shops. Their eyes were glued to Trey. Some lingered a little too long, their gazes tracing his broad shoulders, the sharp lines of his jaw, the confidence in his stride.

And then they glanced at me. Dismissive. Curious. Some didn’t even bother hiding their disdain.

A wave of insecurity crashed over me, sharp and unrelenting. These women were stunning, even beneath layers of scarves and coats. Flawless skin, perfectly styled hair, and a self-assuredness that I could never replicate. I felt plain in comparison, like a smudge on a pristine canvas.

Trey didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he didn’t care.

We walked toward the café, and just before we reached the door, he stopped. His hand settled on my shoulder, firm and grounding, and I froze.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low but commanding.

I shook my head quickly. “Nothing.”

“Liar,” he said with a smirk, stepping closer.

His hand slid from my shoulder to the side of my neck, his thumb brushing against my jawline. And then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed me. Right there, in the middle of the snow, with people walking by and staring.

The world fell away.

His lips were warm, soft, and insistent against mine, sending shockwaves down my spine. My heart hammered so loudly I thought he might hear it, and my hands instinctively gripped the front of his coat to steady myself.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against mine. My breath came out in short, shaky puffs that misted in the cold air.

“Let them look,” he murmured, his voice rough and quiet. “You’re the only one I see.”

I swallowed hard, my insecurities still there but dulled by the weight of his words. By the way he looked at me, as if I was the only person in the world.

The café door creaked open behind us, and someone stepped out, their boots crunching against the snow. Trey straightened, his smirk returning as he held the door open for me. “Let’s get you fed before you pass out.”

I nodded, still reeling from the kiss, and stepped inside. The warmth of the café enveloped me, but it was nothing compared to the heat still lingering in my chest.