The Alpha (The Lycans 4)

For the second time today, I thought this was a very domestic gesture, just a couple enjoying the quiet of being together.

Hours had passed since we’d eaten breakfast, and I’d made myself busy, occupied my mind by cleaning up the kitchen, much to Cian’s disapproval. I was quickly realizing he enjoyed spoiling and lavishing attention on me. I couldn’t help but feel pleasure at how he’d get worked up over something so small as me loading the dishwasher, wanting me to rest and “he’d handle things.”

I just never had anything like this before, someone wanting to wholly take care of me. It was as strange and wondrous as it was unusual and uncomfortable. I’d always relied on myself to make sure things got done, so having someone want to take care of me… was something I’d have to get used to.

After reading the same page five times, I gave up and closed the book, letting it drop to the carpet. I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of Cian’s big fingers and blunt nails gently scraping across my scalp before he moved them through to the end of the long locks.

“Yer hair is so verra beautiful,” he murmured and brought strands to his nose, inhaling. “And smells incredible.”

I flushed at the compliment.

“Second sweetest thing I’ve ever smelled.”

I tipped my head back and looked at him. “What’s the first?”

His grin was slow and sexy. “Yer pussy, lass.”

My face felt like it was on fire, and he laughed deeply before leaning down and kissing the crown of my head. We stayed silent for another long moment as he went back to playing with my hair, but it was comfortable and not forced.

“What was it like?” I asked and tipped my head back to look at him again.

“What was what like, lass?” His voice was soft and almost lazy, as if he’d never felt so much contentment.

I didn’t think I’d ever seen him with his guard down, and although I knew without a doubt he’d be ready for action at the drop of a hat, right now the air around him was almost serene.

“Back then. What was it like… experiencing life throughout the last two and a half centuries?” I turned my attention away from him and looked at a picture that hung on the wall. It was of a man walking his dog, his back to me, his form in the distance. The dogs sat beside him as they stood in an empty field, a few sparse trees scattered around, just blotches of green and brown.

I noticed that about the pictures in this house. They all had this emptiness to them. A lone beach scene. A single house situated in the center of a lot, nothing else in sight. They were all like that, very… lonely. I wondered if they were a testament to Adryan and who he was, what he felt inside. A subconscious visual that showcased the lack in his life.

Or maybe I was just losing my mind and trying to find rationalization where there wasn’t one. Maybe the guy just liked random shit. He certainly seemed unhinged enough to do things that made zero sense.

I realized Cian hadn’t answered, and I drew my focus back to him, seeing that he still watched me. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

He smiled softly and shook his head. “There’s nothing I’d ever keep from ye.” He stared into my eyes, but I could see he was lost in thought. “Just figuring out how tae answer is all.”

I didn’t say anything, just nodded my understanding.

“It was a verra different time,” he finally said. “Harder, more violent.”

His voice didn’t change tempo or octave, but I was still able to pick up on a hard note in it, as if talking about it brought him back to that time and made him uncomfortable. I would have sat up, but he kept playing with my hair, and a part of me thought that maybe he drew a sense of calm from the mundane act.

“It was kill or be killed.” He looked at me then, his blue eyes so clear. “But do ye want tae kno’ the absolute worst thing about it all?”

I licked my lips and nodded, although I didn’t know if I really wanted to know. I held my breath as I waited for him to speak. Maybe he’d admit he killed so many people he lost count? But even if he killed hundreds upon hundreds, the truth was, it wouldn’t change how I felt about him.

I still wanted my life with his.

He slid the hand that was playing with my hair across my neck and up to cup my cheek, his thumb moving over my bottom lip. “The absolute worst part of it all was the loneliness. The emptiness of not knowing if ye were already born, if ye already lived yer life and passed on. The desperation of no’ knowing if I’d ever find ye.” He cleared his throat as emotion clogged it.