Loving My Pack

by Lane Whitt

  I hear plastic crinkling and I snap my head to Mikey, who has a mouthful of gummy bears and a multicolored smile as he gets caught. “Hey! You cheated; you didn’t answer any questions first!” I point at him.

  “And you!” I swing to point at Jace. “You helped him; you can see him and you didn’t say anything,” I accuse, a smile breaking over my face at their antics.

  “I have no idea what you speak of, oh beautiful lady of mine,” Jace says with his most refined accent, a hand over his heart as he bends to kiss me. His trademark smirk is in place as he pulls away.

  “You’re lucky you’re so charming. You just cost me several candies, blondie.” I narrow my eyes playfully.

  Jace laughs. “You realize you’re a blonde, too, right?”

  “Oh, is blondie an insult?” I ask, tilting my head. I’ve been called that several times, so I hope not.

  He laughs harder, reaching down to pick me up off the floor and drape me over his lap in one smooth move. “No, not really. Just the way you said it made it sound like that.”

  He brushes my hair away from my face with a finger. “Besides, you love my blonde hair. I catch you looking at it all the time,” he says confidently, making my cheeks heat. How he still manages that, I’ll never know.

  “If you guys are going to get weird, can I go play?” Mikey asks, already shuffling the cards not in my hand.

  “Ah, you’ll be weird one of these days, too, my boy. I don’t mind if you want to go play, you have to ask your mum, though,” Jace tells him, making the boy look to me. I smile and wave him off. Morris had gotten a set of Matchbox cars to add to his collection and I know Mikey has been wanting to get a peek all day.

  I turn my head back to Jace once the door closes behind Mikey. “Mum, huh? Don’t you mean mom?”

  “Nope,” he responds, flicking my nose. “I’m English, babe. Get used to it,” he says, making me giggle. He leans forward, kissing me deeply until we both need air. I sigh in contentment, moving my face into his shoulder. When was the last time I had a moment like this with Jace? Too long ago, that’s for sure.

  “I came to see if you’d like to spend the evening with me,” he says softly, holding me to him and stroking my hair idly.

  “Like sleep in your room tonight?” I ask for clarification.

  “If you’d like to. Though I was asking you to a proper date with me. It’s not safe to go out, but I’ve arranged something we can do here. So, Kitten Ivaskov, would you accompany me this evening?” He raises my hand to his lips, kissing the back of it.

  Oh, how Jace can make my heart melt with one flash of those golden eyes. “I’d love to,” I tell him breathlessly.

  “Good,” he says as he stands, my feet touching the floor as he takes my hand, opening the door for me. “Then get your pretty tush down to Logan so he can help you get ready.” He ends with a swat to my butt to get me moving. He passes me, going down the hallway to the stairs. He glances over his shoulder once, long enough to send me a wink and a wicked grin. He’s just so dang…good at this kind of stuff.

  “I look like a flower,” I say in awe, standing in front of the floor-length mirror.

  Logan comes up behind me, a satisfied smile on his lips. “Do you like it?” he asks.

  I nod my head vigorously. “I do. I feel so pretty,” I exclaim as I swish my hips, making the soft pink knee-length dress sway side to side. The silk material is layered at the bottom and shaped to resemble that of a flower. While the bottom is flowy, the top is form-fitting. The barely-there cap sleeves and bodice are lined with lace in a cream color, matching the strappy heels Logan helped me into.

  Logan takes out two small blue boxes, opening them to reveal a silver necklace that sits at my throat with a teardrop pendant that dangles when I move. Taking my wrist, he opens the other box and places around it a thin silver bracelet with shiny crystals or diamonds.

  “That should do it. You look stunning and delicate, just as I wanted you to,” Logan tells me as his hand fixes a few flyaways in my hair that he curled and brushed out, making it look wavy. He checks the silver comb at the back, making sure it’ll hold its place.

  “The bastard won’t know what hit him,” he adds with a smirk.

  “Thank you, Logan. I appreciate you taking time to do this. I’m nervous about the date, though. What do people do on dates?” I ask, biting my lip.

  Logan laughs, swatting my butt. “It’s Jace. You already know him. Date is just another word to describe spending time together, which you’ve done countless times. He’s a flashy bastard, so I know you’ll have fun,” he reassures me.

  Oh, well that’s not too bad then, is it? We both turn when there’s a knock on the door. Logan places a warming hand at the small of my back, guiding me to the door. Tristan pops in before we reach it, giving me a slow whistle and a wink, leaving the door open and taking a stance very close to Logan. The two share a look.

  Before I can ask, Jace appears in the doorway, looking as handsome as ever. He’s wearing a light grey suit, tailored just for him, complete with a matching vest and a white shirt with black buttons. It’s the not the first time I’ve seen him in a suit, but this one seems to showcase every fine feature of his lean and tall frame. His gold eyes contrast nicely, and his hair holds a wave to it, every strand perfectly in place. I wonder if his hair even knows how to misbehave?

  “Good evening, young man. What are your intentions with our Kitten?” Logan says in a deeper voice than is natural for him. I look to the side, seeing he has put his arm around Logan’s shoulder, both their faces set in stone.

  “Yeah. You better have her home by eleven or I’ll release the hounds and hunt you down, boy,” Logan adds dramatically.

  Jace peels his eyes away from me to shake his head at them. “You guys are idiots.” He sighs, but can’t hide his amused smile. The two others crack up then, high-fiving each other.

  Jace takes a step forward, offering me his arm. I smile softly as I take it, placing my hand in the crook of his arm and letting him lead me down the hall. “You look as lovely as ever, Kitten,” he tells me.

  “You’re quite beautiful yourself tonight, Jace,” I tell him honestly.

  He smiles brightly at me, revealing those perfect pearly-white teeth that belong in a toothpaste commercial. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been called beautiful before.”

  “Well, you are.” He totally is.

  “Wait, wait!” Reed stops us as he jogs out of his room. “Let me take some pictures.”

  “Yay!” I exclaim. I love the idea of adding pictures of the guys to my collection. Reed snaps away as Jace positions us for different poses. Just when I think we’re done he bends down to kiss my lips softly, only it’s been so long since I’ve had a taste of him that I can’t resist. His exotic and expensive scent invades my senses and I get lost in his soft lips momentarily. He pulls away first, not even out of breath. On the other hand, I’m sure my face matches my pink dress, and I’m nearly panting.

  “That will do,” Reed chirps as steps back into his room and closes the door. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jace exhale slowly through his mouth. Hmm, maybe I affect him more than he lets on.

  Jace leads me past Mikey’s room and further down the hall on our floor to an unused room near the end. My jaw drops as soon as the door opens. I step inside, hands flying to my mouth as I take in the transformation. “Jace! What have you done? It looks like an old English ballroom. I mean, it’s smaller, of course, but it’s like stepping back in time!” I breathe out. I’m shocked and so very excited. “How did you do this so fast?”

  When I feel like my eyes can’t handle any more details I turn back to Jace, who has taken to leaning against the doorframe. His eyes are on me, not the room, and I realize he was watching my reaction the whole time.

  “I wanted to dance with you. So, I made a ballroom,” he states simply.

  “I don’t know how to dance,” I tell him sadly, feeling like I’ve let him down after he went to such great
lengths.

  He smiles then, stepping away from the wall to join me in the center of the room. He traces my jawline with a lean, manicured finger. “Everyone can dance, but I thought you might to learn to dance the waltz. I will teach you.”

  “Is it English night in the Ivaskov house?” I tease him, excited to get to learn something new.

  He laughs, placing a hand around my waist and pulling me close. We sway together, even though there’s no music yet. “The waltz isn’t a dance style native to England though, at one point, we did make it our own. You Americans got that from us. Though we could have never predicted soccer.” He shudders dramatically and laughs at his own joke.

  I laugh, too. “Funny. Finn told me that the term soccer actually originated in Britain as a way to distinguish association football, where the term comes from, versus the other types of football. Like Rugby football.”

  Jace rolls his eyes. “It’s not true if I choose to ignore it.”

  A pang of recognition hits me square in the heart. Is that what I’m doing when it comes to being hurt that the guys lied to me? Choosing to ignore the betrayal so nothing has to change between us?

  Before I can decide one or the other Tristan and Finn enter the room, each carrying a tray high above their heads and Mikey trailing behind them with a bucket. They walk straight to the two-person dining set situated against the wall, in front of the open window. They set the table with glasses, silverware, and plates of steaming food. Tristan helps Mikey to place the bucket full of ice and an opened bottle of Champagne off to the side. They wave shortly before making their exit. I stand back, amused.

  Jace takes my hand in his. “Dinner, my lady?”

  “Of course, my…Jace.” I fail at returning his banter. I don’t know how people spoke in England. Much less during the time period Jace was born. At least my attempt got a chuckle out of him.

  He pulls my chair out for me, timing perfectly when to scoot the chair in before taking his own seat across from me. He fills each of our glasses halfway, encouraging me to take a sip. It’s bubbly, like soda, and less sweet than it smells. It may not be something I’d drink all the time, but I do enjoy the light flavor on my tongue. I also have a glass filled with water, I imagine for if I didn’t like the Champagne.

  “Is this all English food?” I ask, my eyes raking over the unique dishes set before me.

  Jace tilts his head to the side with a slight shrug. “Food in England is more regional than anything, really. Though some things are universal, but cooked differently. Much like the Southeastern U.S. with their barbeque. Someone in Texas might not prepare pork ribs in the same manner as someone from Louisiana, but they are still pork ribs, and most people throughout the entire country eat them, even in the North.”

  “With our dinner Tristan has made some staples from England, but he always puts his own spin on his food. Like our black pudding here; I’m sure he sweetened it up more than someone who lives in England would prefer it, because your palate is used to more sweetness.”

  “I didn’t eat sweets a lot before meeting you guys,” I tell him, confused.

  He shakes his head. “No, not like that. Most foods made for Americans is made sweeter than anywhere else. Even if you don’t realize it. Pastas and breads, cereals and processed meats. Basically, anything that doesn’t come straight from the dirt is artificially sweetened,” he explains.

  I chew my food, thinking it over. How interesting. “It’s not like this in other places?” I ask.

  He dabs at his mouth with the cloth napkin. “Nope, it’s unique to here. While almost everyone enjoys sweets in some way, they don’t prefer it in everything they consume. That’s the biggest difference in “American food”, since this country never really had its own staples and foods. If you look at the top fast food restaurants you have hamburgers, which originated in Hamburg, Germany. Tacos, which of course are a Mexican dish. Pizza, which is Italian, and Chinese food which, naturally, is Chinese.”

  “Do you not consider yourself an American?” I ask.

  He makes a noncommittal sound. “I don’t know what I consider myself. I look like a human, but I’m not like most humans. I’m a wolf, but not a wolf. I’ve lived in parts of this country that weren’t part of this country at the time…” He shrugs. “But I was born in England, and it’s still part of England today, so it’s just easier to say I’m English. It’s how I was brought up, mannerisms that are ingrained and with a palate that is a hard thing to change fully,” he explains.

  “I guess I’m an American. You know, since I was born in this country and I’ve never left it. But, I mean, it’s not I’ve ever felt like I truly belonged to any place in particular,” I declare.

  He nods, finishing up his meal. “I can se that. Though, my opinion would be that feeling that you belong to a place doesn’t necessarily mean that a place feels like home to you. More like if a place feels like it belongs to you, that’s what makes it feel like home, or where you’re from. If that makes sense. England will always feel like home to me because it’s a part of me that I’ll never forget, even if it’s named something else in the future.”

  “I like that. Maybe that’s why you and the others feel like home to me, then,” I say with a smile.

  Jace shifts uncomfortably in his seat, taking a moment to respond. “That’s the reason I wanted to do all of this tonight. I know I don’t have much to offer you like the others do. Not like Ash’s fierce protection or Finn’s knowledge. All I have to offer you is myself, and I guess I wanted you to see a little of where I came from, as it’s still important to me. My family…I could do without remembering, but other things, like the tastes and country parties in the summers. Trying to stand out in a sea of people wanting to stand out…those things I’ll never forget.”

  I scoot my chair back, rounding the table to go to him. He slides back, but I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from getting up. “Jace, if all you have to offer me is you, then I’ll never want for anything. You are all I’ll ever need from, well, you.” I giggle, hearing how that sounded.

  He reaches for my waist, guiding me to drape my legs over his. Then kisses me. Hard and deep and full of passion, just like him.

  Then…we dance. Or, I try to, at least. While we’re both having fun, I think I may have stepped on Jace’s toes a few too many times. I’ve never heard him laugh quite so much at one time, and I’m quickly becoming addicted to the sound. Jace may be one of my more refined mates, and I love that about him to no end, but it’s nice to see him open up and let loose like he’s doing now. I learned that the waltz is his favorite dance of all time and makes him feel powerful to perform it. Trying to dance makes me feel silly, but I like this. Any chance I get to stare into his golden, fascinating eyes, I’m going to take it.

  After what feels like both forever and only a moment, I find myself wrapped in Jace’s arms, slightly swaying to the soft instrumental music with my head pressed to his chest, my eyes closed. I hate to break the spell of the moment, but I feel as though if I don’t ask now, I may never know.

  “Jace?”

  “Hmm?” he answers.

  “Why have you been avoiding me? I love what you’ve done for me tonight, and I will always cherish spending time with you, but…you’ve barely been in the same room as me lately. Have I done something?” I bite my lip as I wait for his answer. I almost want to have done something wrong, so I’d know how to fix it.

  He sighs deeply, pulling back and lifting my face to his. “You haven’t done anything, Fun-size. I was just dealing with something. I am dealing with something. Which is another reason why I wanted this date before I had to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?” I ask, now more worried than ever.

  “Come with me. I’ll tell you in the bath,” he says, offering me his arm and walking us back to his room.

  He sits on the bed, sliding off his shoes and lining them up neatly. Unhooking the silver cufflinks at his wrists looks challenging, so I help him, placing them on to
p of his dresser. I unbuckle the straps of my shoes, setting them down beside his.

  The silence continues as we undress, looks shared between us. A bath has already been drawn for us, the water smelling of roses and full of fluffy bubbles and light pink rose petals. Jace climbs into the oversized tub first, reaching a hand back to help me step in without slipping. He takes a seat, stopping me from following him down into the pleasantly hot water. “What?” I break the silence.

  He shakes his head with a soft smile, starring at my tummy. My eyes follow his. There’s a slight bump, nothing too obvious unless you’re looking and knew what my tummy looked like before.

  “You’re starting to show,” he whispers, head leaning forward to lie against it.

  I run my fingers through his hair. My other hand traces over his strong shoulders. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?” I smile down at him. “You know what else is crazy? You not telling me what’s going on with you,” I joke, but I’m kind of serious.

  Placing a sweet kiss to my tummy he pulls away, helping me to sit between his legs, my back to him. I sigh in contentment as the heat surrounds me, the heavy scent of the water filling the space pleasantly. “I don’t want you to get mad. I’ve enjoyed our night so much. I don’t want to ruin it,” he mumbles behind me.

  “You’ll feel better once you tell me,” I say. Is this it? Is this the moment when one of them cracks and tells me about the war and how they hid it from me? Did Jace want to tell me, but avoided me because he felt guilty?

  “I see your dreams.” His low whisper takes a minute to register as my imagination spirals out of control.

  “What!” I shriek, turning around so fast that water sloshes over the side of the tub.

  He cringes, rubbing at his ear. “Calm down. This won’t be any easier if I’m deaf.” He pulls me back around into his arms, now holding me securely. “I didn’t know what they were at first. I just thought they were crazy dreams, like being attacked by a lion even though I’m nowhere near a lion and shouldn’t be afraid of that.”