Head Wolf

Chapter 6

Blenda's steps slowed down as she reached the end of the stairs. It opened to a large circular room, surrounded by small windows, opening at both the sea and the inner bailey.

A desk took place in front of a large map cluttered with colourful pins and sticky notes, a mini-fridge to the left next to a short cupboard that curved with the shape of the wall. On top of it, were a microwave and a coffee machine.

The manly rustic style captured Blenda's heart with its heavy dark brown furniture. There was a black leather sofa on her right along with a floor lamp similar to a park lamp.

She went to a window, looking at the sea like an endless crooked mirror reflecting the late afternoon colours of the sky.

"Blenda," Arthur called her, looking with furrowed eyebrows at the bailey.

"What's wrong?" She came to his side, concerned at his serious tone. She peeked outside. Few groups of two or three strolled along the almost vacant bailey, the chatter was lost in the soughing of the wind as it blew Blenda's cloak off of her head.

"What?" she asked again, her gaze skipping to the surrounding walls and to the clear sky.

A warm breath blew next to her ear, sending her baby hairs to brush against her cheek.

"You can scream from up here that I'm your mate, instead of bullying people around."

The whispered words crept the long of her spine leaving goosebumps as heat tainted her cheek with an unfamiliar blush. Revolting against the strange feeling, she pushed against his chest, pivoting to strike him as unintelligible words were gasped out. His arms tightened around her, stopping her before she could do any damage. His cheek pressed against hers as he laughed, causing her heart to skip a beat.

Her gaze zeroed on the side of his face as the world around them lost its shape and meaning. From his crinkled eyes to his straight white teeth, the happiness radiating from him entranced her. A lump formed in her throat as a small smile stretched her lips. She'd never been embraced with such love. It was almost overwhelming to her.

He looked at her, his smile never faltering. His eyes shone with the mischief she became fond of, and something else... an adoration she'd never been the subject of.

How could a face hold so much emotions?

As scary as she always thought them to be, she couldn't help but feel drown to him. She brought her hand to trace the side of his face glowing under the bronze sunlight. The warmth travelled from the palm of her hand to engulf her in its welcomed blanket.

Home.

Right then she knew she'd do anything for a taste of the life his eyes were promising. To be accepted and loved unconditionally. Right then she knew she'd die for this man.

She looked up to find his misty eyes looking back at her with an intensity that could drown her.

"You're crying," she teased him even if he wasn't crying, but she'd indulge in the awkwardness instead of the whirlpool of emotions she was in.

He shrugged, not the least embarrassed by his vulnerability.

"I'm an emotional person."

Blenda chuckled, shaking her head.

"You're weird." She pushed past him and went toward the middle of the room, grateful for the distraction.

There was too much happening too soon. Blenda didn't know how to handle all this.

"So, this is your office?"

"My office and my bedroom." He leaned, pulling the edge of the sofa to transform it into a bed.

Blenda laughed, touching the end that now brushed against her calf.

"But why do you need all this? It's not like you're spending too much time in here," she said as she pushed it back to its initial position.

"Practical." She hummed to herself, then sat down, still inspecting the smooth surface.

"Sometimes I do."

Her head snapped to where he was standing next to the coffee machine. She didn't hear him move. Her gaze lingered on his swift actions confirming his claim.

"For the competition?" Blenda couldn't hide her curiosity. Arthur was like a complicated puzzle. Every piece was unique she couldn't see how they'd merge together to make the person in front of her.

He turned in her direction, leaning on the cupboard as the coffee gurgled out of the machine and into the two cups. The steam rose, filling the room with its delicious aroma.

"I don't participate in these preparations. The competition has its own people. I don't interfere in their work."

"So, what do you do?"

"Sometime the palace wishes for things to happen, but stay off the record. Like meetings, operations, investigations, interrogations..." He trailed off, hinting to the extension of the list.

"So, you do the king's dirty work." She teased, intrigued by what he shared with her. Living up in the mountain, her knowledge and her pack's interaction with the outside world were limited.

"Not everything that's off the record is dirty like not everything legal is moral."

"True." Blenda knew that first hand. The excessive hunting of the wolves of the Alps had been legal and approved by the French government. It brought her kin to a near extinction. They were still suffering from its repercussions.

Arthur turned to the half-filled cups.

"Sugar?"

"No, I like it dark and bitter."

"Like your man?" He joked as he held the two cups.

"You're far from that. Rather, like me."

"I like mine hot, and claims to be dark and bitter."

She laughed as she took the cup from him. He sat on the sofa and faced her.

"It looks like the king has too many under-the-table affairs if it keeps you here for long?"

"It comes with the title. Circumstances, lobbies, conflict of interests, conflicted loyalties... You need to stay vigilant and a step ahead of everyone."

"That's wise," she said, sipping on her coffee, "but lethal if misused."

"Tell me about it," he said, gaze lost in the abyss of his cup.

"What happened? You seem like you're talking from experience."

He smiled at her. "You're a curious one, aren't you? But that's a story for another day."

She nodded, looking through the window at the crepuscular sky.

"I didn't see the king. Isn't he here to watch the competition?"

"On the record, yes. He's here for the competition."

Blenda laughed. "Got it." No need to ask any further. "You know, I'm surprised no one called you a fox. You can talk for days without saying anything."

He smiled and said, "It comes with the title."

He took her empty cup and went toward what she thought was a closet. But when he opened the door, her eyebrows rose at the sight of a small bathroom with a toilet, a shower head and a tiny sink were Arthur washed the cups.

"Wow, that's unexpected," she said, impressed.

"It's a portable bathroom. I couldn't stay here without one, but they didn't want to touch the historical architecture. I say it's a good compromise." He closed the door and put the cups back on their place in the cupboard.

"I can't make up my mind about you," she said truthfully, leaning back on the sofa, "You seem so carefree and spoiled, but you know too much and you say too little. You're not as shallow as you look."

"Well, I hope this is a compliment." Arthur chuckled at her oblivion to her insult.

"It's an ascertainment."

"Just a sec," he said, tapping his temple. He turned to the window as he mind-linked.

After a short second, he heaved a long sigh, then turned back, walking to her.

"Ok, Miss. Big Word," he said, giving her his hand, long gone the smile he was sporting. She put her hand in his and he pulled her up, her concerned gaze looking for answers in his soft eyes. He brushed his fingers through her loose hair.

"I was planning to have dinner with you here, but they informed me that they'll serve you all at your rooms tonight. It must be something important because they refused to make an exception for you."

He pulled her hoodie over her head, then rested his hands on her shoulders. His contemplating eyes didn't meet hers as his hands trailed the long of her arms, then held hers in his. He rested his forehead against hers. An unexpected soft whine escaped him which caused her eyes to fly open. His contracted features squeezed her heart. She rubbed her nose against his. Her wolf whined back, soothing his wolf.

"What's wrong?" She whispered.

"I'm anxious. From all the times, I had to meet you now." He pulled her to him even more, rubbing his nose against hers.

"Why not now?"

He heaved a long sigh and looked her with a small smile. "Let's hope nothing bad happens."

He cupped her face and planted a long kiss on her forehead, inhaling her scent.

"What's wrong? Tell me."

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I'm just not comfortable with you being close to a potential danger. Let's hope everything goes as it's planed."

"You talk in riddles." She huffed.

He dragged her with him down the stairs. "I'd tell you if I could. I just want you to stay safe if I'm not there to protect you."

She nodded and they walked in silence until they reached the door. A cold breeze graced their faces when he opened it. It was less windy down there.

He walked her to her room, slipping back to his playful self, but she couldn't shake the uneasiness in her chest.

"Sleep tight," he said as she opened the door to her room.

"You can come in, if you want."

"And risk pissing off Alonso? No, thanks." He chuckled, rising his palms.

"Ok, dann. Gute nacht." She sighed.

"Lock your door," he said, "and eat your food." He added as the door was about to shut.

The lock slipped to its place with a soft click. Blenda rubbed at the tightness in her chest.

It's going to be a long night. She thought as she eyed the plate of food with a lost appetite.