Viola is a romantic at heart and believes she knows everything about love. From the movies she watches to the books she reads-she's after a gentleman who will handle her with care. But as everyone around her finds their soulmate and starts their per...
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I slide a piece of sandy blonde hair behind my ear as I whisk together a bowl of wet and dry ingredients. Nate's been at Milo's all night and my father is busy with the Alpha. So this morning I decided on baking some sweet treats to pass the time.
I've needed some distractions. Especially when most people in the house are loved up.
I'm grateful Imogen is in the same boat as me but she doesn't seem to care. It's as if the thought of a matebond to her doesn't really matter. I wish I had her level of calm–instead I'm going crazy inside my mind.
When I pour the batter into a heart shaped tin, the hairs on the back of my neck begin to prickle. I lower the bowl and cup a hand over my nape. My eyes glance through the window of our kitchen and into the clearing but there is no one there.
My bones turn to stone as the sensation increases. Inside me my wolf howls and yips at the feeling but I can't enjoy it like she does. Not when I know where it's coming from. He's back. Again.
Coolness whips past my eyes and I shudder. I believed him when he said he'd come back. This is his fourth time and I'm beginning to realise that he won't be going anywhere unless he speaks directly to me.
"What's wrong?" Imogen's voice from behind me makes me jump out of my skin.
The batter on the counter almost goes flying. I drop my hand and turn to face her. She studies my face and twists her head in concern. "Viola?"
"He's here," I exhale breathlessly.
Imogen's eyes widen–she knows who I'm talking about. "You can sense him?"
I nod as my skin aches with pimples. My gaze darts to my arms to find my hairs standing on end. "He's out there," I murmur. "He's not going to leave. You heard the determination in his voice last time. He wants to speak to me."
"Do you want to speak to him?"
My heart beats out of time. Do I? I close my eyes and remember the last conversation I had with my brother. I mentioned wanting to give him a chance to explain but was that my wolf talking? I was overwhelmed by his scent and the sight of his face.
"I-I don't know," I admit.
Imogen steps to my side and grabs my arm gently. "The guards are out there. He won't let him get close to the house, or close to you. Not if you don't want him to."
"But he's just going to keep coming back," I press a hand to my forehead. "Maybe I should just see what he says. Nothing more. No touching. No personal stuff. It might deter him away."
Her lip curls unconvincingly. We both know that won't be the case. "I'll come with you."
"Okay," I whisper before chewing on the inside of my cheek. "Thanks."
