Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
“Daisy…” His thumb pads over my bottom lip and traces underneath it. “Promise me you won’t work yourself too hard.”
I nod, my tongue darting out to wet my lips, the tip of it teasing his thumb. He groans, and his grip on me tightens, a warning flashing in his eyes, as if he’s daring me to do it again. “I promise.”
He leans closer to me, hand falling from the doorknob and his head angling over mine, our lips inches apart, his breath fanning my face. My eyes close, and my knees weaken, my face tilting to meet his, but before I can kiss him, he opens the door and shoves me out, swatting my ass with a playful growl.
“Go,” he says, his voice deep and commanding, twisting my insides and capturing the attention of my lycan. “We will pick up where we left off later.”
He slams the door shut before I can say anything in response, and I scurry across the lawn, a broad, uncontainable smile stretching across my face as I walk to the packhouse. My heart is weightless, my soul content, and my happiness the most genuine it’s been in a while. A light breeze rustles my hair and the skirt on my dress, mimicking the lightness of my spirit. The black butterflies embroidered on the ivory fabric flutter and dance with the swirling of the material, brushing against my legs and shimmering in the early afternoon sun.
I’m almost to the packhouse when my phone pings with a text from Haven, asking me to meet her at their house instead of in Wesley’s office. I change course, winding around the lake and towards the paved pathway that meanders through the trees towards their private residence, secluded within the confines of the dense redwood forest. Their sprawling house comes into view, and Haven waves to me from the front porch of their luxury mountain home. Her mane of red curls is in a single, long braid, and she wears a loose gray Stanford T-shirt that almost hides her growing bump, a panting, smiling Cav at her side.
He bounds up to me, licking my face as I bend down to pet his head and scratch his ears. “Hey there, friend!” I say, laughing through his wolfy kisses.
He throws one last tongue swipe along my cheek, then prances back over to Haven, where he sits on his haunches next to her, his chest puffed out proudly, the cheesy lilac tutu he wore the other day once again around his middle.
“How are you?” Haven asks as I reach the porch.
“Fine,” I say, following her into the house. Cav stays behind, and I give him a little wave as I shut the door.
Haven glances at me, her brow raised, her eyes flicking over my outfit. “I’m surprised he didn’t make you wear his shirt.”
My cheeks heat, and I pinch my lips together, clearing my throat. “He likes my dresses,” I mutter.
Her deep blue eyes light up with understanding and laughter, and she nods. “Ah.”
I’m silent as I follow her down the brightly lit hall to a room with an arched opening. Inside the room, there is a huge mirror all along the far side, large windows lining the left-hand wall that make the room seem as if it’s outside in the forest, and a small office area on the right-hand side, where Wesley sits, working on a laptop.
“This is beautiful,” I say, my voice breathless as I take everything in—the gorgeous natural lighting, the spotless mirrors, the exquisite professional-grade dance flooring, and the mounted ballet barres on the interior wall. All of it is stunning and designed with such care and precision.
Haven trails her fingers along the wooden barre as she walks towards Wesley’s desk. “Wesley outdid himself with this one. But my favorite will always be the first one he made me.”
Haven reaches the office section of the dance studio and grabs one of the lightweight wooden chairs with thin ivory cushions on the opposite side of the desk, turning to take it to the center of the room. But before she makes it two steps, Wesley is around his desk and snatching the chair from her, grabbing the other along with it, and marching them both to the open space of the studio.
“I could have done that,” Haven says, rubbing her belly as she follows him.
Wesley grunts his response and drops a kiss to the top of her head, his hand covering hers on her belly. Then he returns to his desk, plopping down in the leather office chair without another word.
“Males,” Haven mouths to me, her eyes rolling as she too sits down. I chuckle and sit in the chair across from her, setting my purse down on the floor next to me. “So, how are we going to do this?”
“I have a couple of questions first, if you don’t mind?” Haven shrugs. “They may be a little… personal,” I continue, folding my hands in my lap.
“That’s fine.”
I nod. “Have you ever spoken to Selene about your aura?”
Haven tenses, and her lips turn into a slight, angry frown. “No. I’ve only spoken to her twice. That night in Greece, and the night Wesley marked me and she gave me the mindlink ability.” She swallows and fiddles with the hem of her shirt. “Why? Is there something wrong? Or something bad?”
Wesley’s eyes lift from his work, and he pauses, waiting for my response. “No. I was just curious if she’d pulled you into her realm at all to tell you about it after she gave it to you. Or if you’d visited her yourself.”
“Don’t we have to like…” She blushes, and her eyes dart around the room. “I mean. I know she brought me there after Wesley marked me, but that was kind of like a ritual, too, right?”
I bite back my laugh. “You only had to do the ritual the first time because you’d never connected with her before, and even Selene has limits of how she can connect with mortals. But if she wanted to—or if you wanted to—you could visit her in her realm at any time.”
She bites her lip, the anger and resentment returning to her features. “Her and I… we’re not really on speaking terms. She may be my mother, but she’s not my mom.”
I nod and clasp my hands together tighter, maintaining eye contact with her. “I understand. Blood relation doesn’t automatically make someone your family.”
A small smile returns to her face, and she glances at Wesley, who is once again focused on his work. “That is an incredibly true statement.” Her attention returns to me after she gazes lovingly at him for a second, determination in her eyes. “What do you know about it?” she asks. “My aura?”
“It’s an identifier. Like an alpha aura or any other ranked wolf aura. It signals to others that you’re someone important. The command—well, that I’m guessing was given to you as a means to protect yourself. Even with King Malachi helping hide your identity, and even with the special blood contract knife the oracles and the thirteen crones created to bind all your pack members—new and old—to secrecy, there is still a chance of someone figuring out who you are and trying to use that against you or for their own gain. Being able to command werewolves and lycans of any rank no matter what pack they’re in…”
Her eyes widen and both her hands cover her belly, her motherly instincts already taking over all her conscious and subconscious reactions. “She thinks something will happen to me? Or to our family? Something I’d need to protect us from?”
I reach for her and cover her hands on her belly with my own, leaning forward in my seat. “No,” I say, squeezing her hand. “But you are her only living daughter. With everything that happened to Asteria and everything that happened to you, can you blame her for wanting you to have a way to protect yourself?”
“I told her I didn’t want magic or powers,” Haven says, her eyes watering.
“She’s a goddess. She does what she wants.”
Haven scoffs and I pull away from her. I sense she has more she wants to say, further strong opinions on the subject, but she clenches her jaw and clamps her mouth shut, staring out at the forest through the windows behind me. Her body tenses, and she squeezes her eyes closed, her neck straining as she tilts her head side to side like she’s stretching out a tweaked nerve.
“Let it out,” I say, my voice soft and coaxing. “I need to practice. That’s why I am here.”
She exhales, and with her breath comes a pulse of her aura. The friendly, sparkling, dancing power reflects off the flawless mirrors, and the lights in the room flicker for a moment before I reach out with my ability and draw the aura into me. I focus my power, thinking of it as a filter for her aura to pass through instead of a sponge to absorb as much of it as possible. I let it trickle from her and into me, little by little, opening myself to it slowly to find the perfect balance of manipulation and absorption. The aura lingers around Haven but drifts no further than where it hovers above her skin, and the sparkling stardust diminishes until the only evidence of her power is the slight distortion of air around her body. And even that would only be clear to someone with my ability.
I smile at her as the last of it dances into me, feeling energized and excited instead of exhausted and emptied. Haven’s eyes are wide, and she stares at mine, her jaw dropping open.
“Is that what my aura looks like to you?” she asks, brow furrowing. “That dancing, sparkling, silvery light in your eyes?”
I nod at her. “It’s beautiful and one of a kind.”
“Does it hurt you?”
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?