Duke Charming | Craig

Seven

The weather was calm that night, no rain, no wind. Only the soft chirping of crickets kept my thoughts awake.

I lied and stared at the ceiling for the second night in a row, replaying every moment of the day in my memory. From waking up to the very hour I got into bed – and all that's happened in between. Every time I'd reach the part where I saw Craig at the bistro, my heart would miss a beat, and a giddiness tightened my stomach.

The notion that it happened, that I had found a second mate, was still too unreal. So unreal, it shouldn't even be possible. I'd sooner see the Goddess Three in the flesh that be given a second chance at love. Real love.

Cruel, terrifying, real love.

I tried not to let my mind wander to it, but it did, nonetheless. What if the Balfours did somehow find out about me being a werewolf – would they accept me for my flaws and defects?

Would Craig accept me for what I am?

Or will he reject me like Dario did?

That thought alone was enough for an invisible spike to pierce my heart. I can't go through that again. Never again. The first time nearly cost me my life, I didn't want to imagine what a second time would do.

To werewolves, it's all about power. A pack is only as strong as its alpha, and after that, a pack is only as powerful as its members. That whole mantra was the reason I never fitted in. If there was ever an attack on our pack, or if something happened that would threaten our territory, there was nothing I could do to help protect it. I'd be a threat in itself with the inability to shift.

"If you can't shift, you can't fight," my father always told me. "If you can't fight, you need protection. And I can't concern myself with you when I should be leading the fight."

Harsh, I know. But it's true, I was a liability. One my father couldn't afford to have. And if the Balfours shared only half of those sentiments, then I'd have even less of place in their pack than I did in my former one.

I reached the part where I locked eyes with Craig again tonight, the memory setting my skin ablaze. That time, I got a better look at him.

He's in his early fifties but being a werewolf and all meant that he could still pass as early forties. The supernatural trait tended to make us look ten years younger than we actually were.

His skin was a bit tanner than the rest, a tell-tale sign that he spent a healthy amount of time outside and in the sun. And surprisingly enough, there weren't many lines on his face except for the prominent laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

My heart missed another beat.

He laughed and smiled a lot.

I could even agree that his salt and pepper hair suited him. Despite being awfully disheveled and though he woke up like that, he was still devastatingly attractive. In fact, he resembled most of the older actors I found attractive when Bonnie and Maisie bullied me into watching movies with them – a hobby I'm fond of nowadays.

But his most stunning feature by far was his eyes. By now, I could clearly recognize the blue-eyed genes that coursed through the Balfours. Their eyes ranged from soft blue to bright blue, to greyish blue. Fifty Shades of Blue if you will.

Craig's eyes, however, were unique. They were a dazzling shade of steel blue on the outer rim of his irises and transitioned to forest green near his pupils. An although the blue was still the dominant color, the delusional part of my brain couldn't help but fantasize about how the hints of green in his eyes matched mine perfectly.

As though he always had a part of me with him.

Blinking harshly, I forced that fantasy aside. Not only was it just that – a fantasy – but it also scared me to death. I should be seeing this for what it truly was: an accident. Tomorrow, the Goddess Three will realize her mistake and fix it.

But that morbid thinking only spurred me into sitting upright in bed, slamming my hands down the plush duvet in frustration. I couldn't sleep while thinking about Craig, and I couldn't sleep without thinking about Craig. So, I guessed I wasn't sleeping at all that night.

Again, I threw off the covers and grabbed my nightgown. Knowing tomorrow's meals were already planned, a trip to the kitchen would only risk me running into more naked men, and I only cared about one at this point.

Silently leaving my room, I tiptoed down the halls. I had no destination in mind but thought a little solo adventure wouldn't do any harm. We weren't given a full tour of the castle when we arrived, seeing as we were a hired service. The only rooms that applied to us were our bedrooms and the kitchen.

And I've always been a little too curious for my own good.

Turning right at the bottom of the stairs, I slipped into another dimly lit hallway. But with my eyesight, I could see as well as I could in broad daylight.

At night, the castle felt older, magical even. It transported me to the medieval times, and I entertained the idea of being the main character of some fantasy series when I'm magically teleported to another world. It was easy to escape reality among these walls, and I would've lost myself in it had reality not damaged me over the years.

Approaching a door on my left, I decided to take a peek inside. It was a library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, two cozy reading nooks, and a few reclinable armchairs facing the fireplace. I wasn't much of a reader, and quietly closed the door.

The next one revealed a family room. Dark leather couches faced a wide flat-screen TV, there was a beverage bar installed in the corner for movie nights, and at the far end of the room a grand piano stood proud. This would be my second favorite room in the castle, with the kitchen being the first.

An interesting thought crossed my mind as I pulled the door closed – I wondered what kind of movies and shows the Balfours watched. It'd be interesting to know. And Goddess forbids if it's either The Crown or Teen Wolf.

Strolling onward, I approach the third door...only to stop when the hairs on my arms rose. My senses took over and I saw a group of heat signatures gathered on the other side of the wall. It seemed I had come across a private Balfour meeting, and after tuning my ears, I learned that I was the topic of discussion.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Emric's voice sounded grave but contained a hint of joy.

A moment later, I recognized Craig's voice when he replied, "Aye, I know it's 'er. My stomach's been tinglin' a' day, and it's no' th' whiskey this time."

"After all these years," Rieka breathed in pure astonishment, "you finally found your mate. You have no idea the joy it brings us, Criag."

"Imagine what I'm feelin'," he said, chuckling softly. Then, in a lower tone, added, "I guess I should tell tell 'er, then, 'bout us tha' is. And o' course, th' bond..."

"You're not locking her in the pantry," Ash's voice sounded on the other side of the door. "There are better ways to break the news."

Rheon's soft laugh carried through the air, and the rest joined in.

"Ash is right," Rieka spoke after they calmed down. "Perhaps she should talk to Nel. She's got the most recent experience, and she'll break it to her softly."

"Aye, aye, tha' could work," Craig agreed optimistically. "You'd be a lot greater than me, lass. I wouldn't know wha' to say, probably just end up makin' a fool of m'self."

"Or lock her in a pantry," Rheon joked, earning himself a nudge in the side from Ash.

"Then it's settled," Emric concluded. "Ash will talk to Nel tomorrow. We'll see how it goed from there."

Sensing they were done with their meeting, I fell back, retreating to my room as quietly as possible. I don't think anyone realized I was there, and if I could slip past Craig, whom I shared a bond with now, then my confidence in my abilities had multiplied.

I wasn't proud for eavesdropping on their meeting, but at least it prepared me for the next day to some extent. Now, to practice my face in the mirror to achieve the perfect shocked expression when Ash tells me werewolves are real.