by Layla Silver
“Reluctantly.” I shrugged, forcing myself to smile casually again despite the pain in my heart. “I should probably finish, actually. Get home while there’s still time to cook something tonight.”
Relief flooded through her so clearly it was palpable. “Yeah, definitely. I won’t keep you. Have a good night.” She flashed me a quick, forced smile and darted away.
I watched her queue up in a checkout line, studiously examining the gaudy tabloid covers in the rack beside her to avoid any chance of looking back at me. Swallowing my grief and frustration, I made myself turn away, my body moving on autopilot to resume the half-forgotten search for protein bars.
Celeste was the only member of the pack I didn’t check in on regularly as part of my Alpha duties. She didn’t want to see me. As much as I wanted to see her, I’d sworn to myself long ago that I wouldn’t be the kind of overbearing Alpha my father was. As long as Celly was safe, I’d honor her wishes and keep my distance.
I kept tabs, of course. She was active in the pack, and it was easy enough to keep up with news on her business and concerns from a distance. She was perpetually helping out with the pups and the elderly in the pack, supporting anyone who was struggling however she could. I heard her name constantly. It was always casual and in passing, but every mention was a reminder of what I’d lost. It felt like dying of a thousand cuts.
Belatedly, I realized I was standing in front of the protein bar shelf, staring blankly at it. Annoyed with myself, I threw two boxes in my cart and headed for the checkout lanes. You can’t change what’s done, I reminded myself ruthlessly. She’s moved on. You should, too.
I purposely chose a lane with a longer line, ensuring that Celeste would have plenty of time to clear the store and the parking lot before I headed out to my car. Unfortunately, the line gave me time to think, and the only thing my brain was interested in thinking about was Celly.
She’d made it clear she didn’t want me back, but by all accounts, she’d never shown so much as a whiff of interest in any other man. She never dated, never flirted. She filled her days with work and service until there wasn’t room for anything else.
So do you, I told myself.
The conveyor lurched into motion, startling me out of my thoughts. I bent my attention to the cashier and the mundane process of checking out. Thoughts of Celeste returned with a vengeance as I carried my bags out to the parking lot. We were both coping, it seemed, but I couldn’t help wondering if her well-managed life was as much a facade as mine.
Are you happy, Celly? I wondered, wistfully, sliding into the driver’s seat. Because God knows I haven’t been truly happy since the day I lost you.
Chapter 4 – Celeste
I adjusted the fabric again, then shook my head. “Not that one,” I decided aloud. “Did it have to be Alençon?”
Talking to myself while sewing was an old habit. Fortunately, I was shut in my own studio with no one else around to be annoyed by it. I had a little free time this morning, and I’d decided it was the perfect opportunity to nail down which fabrics I wanted to use for Katie’s dress.
She’d swung by last night to drop off the vintage veil Leo’s mother was lending her for the wedding. It was obviously an heirloom—she’d mentioned some tradition about wearing “something old and something new.” It was a lovely thing—fingertip length and clearly handsewn. It would look stunning on Katie. Unfortunately, it was made of antique Alençon lace, which meant that it wouldn’t pair well with most of the modern lace designs I kept in stock.
Carefully refolding the Chantilly lace I’d been looking at around its bolt, I picked it up and headed for the shelves along one wall where I stored my fabric stock. My stomach rumbled as I tucked the bolt back in its spot, reminding me that I’d skipped breakfast.
Dumb, I scolded myself. You just went shopping! The fridge is full. You should have eaten.
Shopping. The thought sent my mind skittering back to the shock of seeing Nathan in the store the other day. How long had he been watching me? I’d been preoccupied and hadn’t noticed right away, but my shifter senses had caught what my conscious mind had not—the feeling of being watched had scuttled over my skin like an army of tiny spiders as I looked up.
I wrapped my arms around myself, remembering the way the sensation had turned to a wash of heat when I’d realized it was him. His eyes had been dark and fixed on me with the kind of intensity only Alphas seemed capable of. Fresh heat swamped me now, just thinking about it.
The doorbell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts. Irritably, I grabbed two bolts of fabric and stalked back across the room. I had work to do. Work that was much more important than Nathan Sloan’s fathomless green eyes.
Setting one bolt aside, I draped a corner of the Duchesse lace over the eggshell voile I was fairly certain I wanted to use for the underlay. Better. Pulling the veil a little closer, I frowned, comparing the textures. It could work. Undecided, I unfolded a portion of the Schiffli lace and held that close, too.
The front doorbell rang again. I scowled. Not home, I thought, stubbornly. Go away.
Adjusting the fabrics a few more times, I decided I didn’t like the lay of the Schiffli. Duchesse it was.
I was returning the Schiffli bolt to the shelf when the doorbell rang a third time. Grumbling, I slotted the bolt back into its place and resigned myself to the idea that whoever was at the door wasn’t going away. Much as I hated being interrupted in the middle of a project, I was going to have to answer it.
I’d built my studio in what had once been a broad porch affixed to the side of my one-story, rambler-style home. I’d enclosed the space, finished the interior, and added a separate entrance so I could use it as an on-site workspace. Now, I crossed the studio and let myself into the house proper. I hurried toward the front door as the bell rang again, grumbling the entire way.
Habit made me peek through the peephole before opening the door. Phillip waited on the other side, and I saw his nostrils flare as he scented me.
What on earth? Why was there an Elder at my door in the middle of a weekday morning? Immediately, my heart started to pound. I skimmed through my mental roster of the pack as I undid the locks, trying to think of who might have been injured or had another emergency they could possibly need my help with.
“What’s wrong?” I asked before I even had the door all the way open.
“Celeste.” Phillip smiled at me but evaded the question. “May I come in?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to refuse, but my mother’s lessons about serving the pack were too deeply ingrained to let me act on the desire. I couldn’t quite make myself invite him in, but I stepped back in tacit permission for him to enter. I was very aware of the sparse furnishings in my living room and every speck of dust on the hardwood floor as he walked in. The open floor plan meant he’d be able to see the dishes in the sink, too, if he looked.
He didn’t, though. He stopped in the center of the room and turned back to me. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to ignore the nervousness balling up under my ribs.
“I apologize for dropping by unannounced,” he said graciously, inclining his head in a regal, well-manned sort of way that did nothing to erase my concerns that this wasn’t a friendly social call. “And for imposing on you on short notice, but I’d like you to attend a meeting this afternoon. It’s of vital importance to the pack.”
Alarm bells went off in my head, and my thoughts began to race again. “Has there been another threat?”
“I’m afraid I’m not able to offer any specifics until the meeting.” He shook his head, apologetically. “There are rules, you understand.”
I didn’t, but I was well acquainted with the futility of trying to pry information out of an Elder when they started speaking in vague, cryptic terms.
“All right.” I was proud of myself for how composed I sounded. “What time?”
“Five-thirty,” Phillip informed me, pleased. “It will be at Nathan’s house.”
The words hit me like a sucker-punch to the stomach. I hadn’t been in Nathan’s house since his father’s wake, and I hadn’t intended to be back in it ever if I could help it. But of course, Phillip didn’t know anything about that, and I wasn’t very well going to tell him.
Stop it, I scolded myself. It’s been years. It’s fine.
“Sure.” I strove for the same collected tone, hoping he wouldn’t hear the strain I felt. “Five-thirty at Nathan’s. Do I need to bring anything?”
Phillip didn’t fall for my weak fishing attempt. “Just yourself. Thank you, Celeste. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Nodding once more, he let himself out. I stared at the door for a long moment, then stalked back to my studio, dread curling in my gut. What had I just gotten myself into?
***
When he’d come home from his travels, Nathan had bought a spacious, elegant home on the edge of town. Bounded by forest on two sides, it was set well back from the road behind the crumbling remains of an old stone wall. For all that it wasn’t far from main thoroughfares, the property had a stately, secluded air to it when you turned into the driveway. In other circumstances, I imagined it must feel grand and welcoming.
It only ever made me feel queasy. The thought that I was there to attend a meeting with the Elders and, presumably, the Alpha, only heightened my discomfort.
You’re overreacting, I chided myself. It’s not like they’re going to bite. It’s literally their job to protect you if you need it.
Parking behind an old blue SUV that I recognized as Gideon’s, I took a deep breath, blew it out, and walked up the path to the front porch. I had just reached the top step when the door opened.
Phillip gestured me inside with a tight smile. “We’re meeting in the library.”
I followed him down the hall, marveling silently at the tremendous amount of work Nathan had clearly done on the home’s interior since I’d been there last. It had been fine, then. Now it was stunningly, if understatedly, gorgeous. Dark hardwood lined the floors, and the walls were all painted in warm, soothing shades. I caught a glimpse of an office on the left and what looked like a casual lounge on the right before Phillip led me into a well-appointed library halfway down the hall.
Daniel was sitting at a long, refectory-style table with a stack of papers in front of him. He nodded at me perfunctorily as I entered. Gideon turned away from the window he was standing beside, and I saw his eyes widen. Ice formed in my gut. He hadn’t been expecting me. What was going on?
“Please come sit, Celeste.” Daniel pointed me toward the chair across from his.
Unsure what else to do, I crossed the room and took the seat. There were a few moments of deeply uncomfortable silence in which I felt like the Elders were having wordless conversations above my head, their gazes darting back and forth between one another. Then Nathan’s voice rang out in the hall.
“I heard the door. Who else did you invite to this—” He appeared in the doorway in a perfectly-cut navy suit that emphasized the trim lines of his body and set off his tanned skin and chestnut hair to their best advantage. His forest-green eyes swept the room, almost instantly fixing on me. His entire body went rigid. “Oh, hell no.”
Taken aback, I blinked at him. Excuse me?
“I said, no!” He ripped his eyes off me and pinned the Elders in their places with a thunderous glower. “You have no right to drag her into this.”
“We are the Elders of this pack,” Daniel countered, his voice harder than I’d ever heard it. “We most certainly do have the right to summon anyone we wish to a meeting.”
I clamped my mouth shut and only barely resisted rolling my eyes. Did they know nothing about Nathan? Or were they trying to provoke him?
“I was not involved in this decision,” Gideon spoke up, grimly. “But they have a point, Nathan. Celeste deserves to at least be made aware of the options on the table.”
Options? What?
“She isn’t going to agree,” Nathan shot back. He was furious now. I could see it in the way his muscles bunched under the expensive fabric, smell it in the air. “She doesn’t want any more part in your lunacy than I do.”
Irritation made my skin flush. Since when did Nathan presume to speak for me? To know anything about me and what I wanted?
“Nathan,” Phillip said, deliberately. “Celeste is a grown woman—a full member of this pack. She has an excellent record of making decisions in the pack’s best interest. There’s no reason to think she’ll reject this out of hand just because you have.”
Reject what?
“You cannot dictate what we do,” Daniel added, his expression pinched with indignation. “Not until you are officially Alpha. Which you may never be if you don’t at least consider our proposal.”
What proposal? Impatience and resentment boiled over inside me. Why were they talking about me—and apparently plans that might include me—right in front of me, as if I wasn’t even there? They were treating me like a child.
“Excuse me,” I interrupted, abruptly. All four heads snapped in my direction, the men going silent in surprise. “I’m right here,” I reminded them. “If you are making decisions that involve me, I would like to know about them. Especially if they somehow affect the pack as a whole.” I pursed my lips, my gaze moving between them, weighted with my frustration. “So, I’d appreciate it if you could stop presuming you know what I think or want and just tell me why I’m here.” For a split second, Nathan’s lips quirked, and the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled like he was trying not to laugh. Butterflies flooded my stomach, and I was so distracted I almost missed it when Phillip started talking.
“Of course, Celeste. Forgive us. You are aware of the conundrum Nathan faces in his desire to be formally named Alpha of our pack?”
Nathan’s expression went neutral and carefully blank, and the butterflies in my gut turned to chips of ice. “Michael’s will,” I said, dragging my gaze to the Elders. Everyone knew that. “It stipulated that he can’t officially be named Alpha until he takes a mate.”
“Technically,” Daniel corrected, lifting an imperious finger, “it requires that Nathan start a family.” He stopped, all of them looking at me.
“And?” I prompted impatiently.
Gideon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. “As pack Elders,” he said, wearily, “it is our sworn duty to uphold Michael’s will. No matter how much we loathe the divisiveness and insecurity the current situation is bringing to the pack, we cannot simply waive the requirements. That said,” he glanced at Nathan and then back at me, “we have been exploring possible … loopholes that may allow us to resolve the situation.”
“Loopholes,” I repeated dubiously, not following. “In the definition of family?” I shot a questioning look at Nathan, but he’d turned away. His arms were folded, every inch of him angry and dismissive. I fisted my hands in my lap, my entire body prickling with discomfort now.
“We want Nathan to consider having a child,” Phillip said, bluntly. “Even without a mate, we believe a child would constitute technical fulfillment of the terms of Michael’s will, enabling us to formally instate Nathan as Alpha, resolving all of our current issues in one fell swoop.”
A … child? They wanted Nathan to … my brain blanked at the thought.
“Nathan is resistant to any personal entanglements that might disrupt the pack,” Phillip continued, carefully.
Like his mother, I thought distantly.
“However, we have identified a surrogacy agency that specializes in shifter pregnancies,” he continued, plowing on as if he were afraid to stop now. “It’s called First Class Surrogacy. We believe it is in the best interests of the pack for one of our own to serve as the surrogate.”
The silence was back, thick and heavy. The words seeped in slowly, and my mouth was suddenly dry, my palms slick with sweat. I licked my lips, the idea rolling around inside me, surreal and unbelievable.
“Me,” I managed finally, dumbfounded
. “You want me to carry his baby.”
“Yes,” Daniel said simply.
“You can’t be serious.” My voice raised on the last word, a slightly hysterical tinge to it that made me cringe. But really—what were they thinking?
“It is … unconventional,” Gideon allowed, gently. He looked at me with kind, tired eyes. “It is not something we ask lightly, Celeste, and certainly something we wish we did not have to ask at all. But you are a smart woman, and you’re very active in the pack. You know what our inability to formally name Nathan our Alpha is costing us.” He shot a look at the other two Elders. “And I’m sure you remember just as well as Nathan the mess we endured when his father took a mate solely for the purpose of getting an heir.” He rubbed his temple with his middle finger as if he could squeeze out the ache no doubt forming there. “You are the only person we can trust to potentially bring stability to our pack.”
“We’ll pay for it, of course,” Daniel interjected, helpfully. “From pack funds. All of your medical care and associated expenses.”
He thought I was worried about money? For a moment, I just gaped at them all, speechless. Finally, when it became clear that they were going to be of no more help, I pulled myself together.
“Let me get this straight,” I clarified. “You want me to serve as a surrogate for Nathan’s baby.” I risked a glance at him, but he was still turned away, stiff as a board, so I focused my attention on the Elders. “A baby that he will raise, to fulfill Michael’s will. If we both agree, you’ll formally name him Alpha?” Formally name him and make all the pack’s troubles finally go away.
“Yes,” Daniel confirmed.
I had no idea what to do with that information. On the face of it, the idea was absurd. Nathan and I could barely say two words to one another. He’d made his feelings perfectly clear years ago, and I’d sworn never to risk my heart again.
But the pack … the pack needed its Alpha, desperately. We needed to put the past behind us and to have our Elders and our Alpha be a united team, not fighting one another in the same futile circles for years.