“Welcome home.” His low timbre spread a second rush of heat through her body. The feeling frightened her enough to give her the strength to pull away from him.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She wanted to tear her gaze away, was embarrassed even by the long look they’d shared, annoyed by the outrageous arrogance she felt pouring from this lykan, but she couldn’t. If it hadn’t been for Ella pulling her into a hug, she may have stood looking at her Pack Leader like a fool for the entire night.
“Ella.” She managed a small smile, inhaling her adoptive mother’s scent of earth and lavender. She remembered that smell more than the tall woman holding her. It told her of the affection this woman had once given her, and for this, she hugged her tighter.
“Now that you’ve met everyone,” Ella said and gave a sweeping gesture to indicate the pack crowded around her living room, “I suggest we let you unpack and get some sleep.”
The room was huge. A large four-poster bed dominated the space. The grand oak of the posts was matched in the twin bedside tables, the large wardrobe to the back of the bedroom, a cabinet facing the bed, and the chunky desk to the right of the door, not to mention the beautiful flooring that would feel cool on a warm summer’s night. The walls were painted in the softest green, bedspread and curtains matching.
Caia was surprised by the color choice; it was so tranquil, so her. How did they know? “Is this all for me?”
Ella chuckled and stepped inside, taking Caia’s backpack and dumping it pointedly on the floor next to her suitcase that had been placed at the foot of the bed. Ella straightened, her gray eyes smiling. She was a slightly older version of Irini. An Elder also, many years older than what she looked, as beautiful as all the other lykans with her svelte physique and long, sable hair. “Yes. We wanted you to feel at home as quickly as possible.”
“Thank you.” Caia really didn’t know what else to say, her eyes widening at the laptop sitting on the desk for her. “I like green.”
“Good.”
They were quiet for a moment, just contemplating each other. The sound of raucous laughter from downstairs seemed to shake Ella. “This will all pull together, Caia.”
She merely nodded, not quite so sure. She felt so much like an outsider.
“We wanted you to have the utmost privacy. And if you can’t sleep, there is a television and DVD player in that cabinet.” She pointed to the monstrosity facing the bed. “There should be plenty of films to choose from in there too. Laptop’s yours. Internet is up and running so …”
Caia couldn’t take it all in. “Thank you. You know you didn’t have to do all this. I never …”
“Shush. It’s done.”
She received another hug and a motherly kiss on the cheek before the older woman slipped from the room.
Caia sighed. Oh boy.
She thought about unpacking for two seconds before deciding against the idea. It would just make everything more permanent. Instead, she strolled to the window and looked out over the small backyard with its footpath leading into the thick, dark woods surrounding the house. To anyone else, those woods encroaching so close to the home might have been off-putting. To a lykan, it was a dream to have the cover of the trees at your fingertips.
She thought of her and Irini having to drive to the woods to run. Irini was so happy to be home. She’d barely looked at Caia once since their return, and Caia wondered if the woman perhaps resented her far more than she’d let on. They hadn’t a close relationship, but they were kind and considerate of one another. Irini had worked as a secretary during the day, a cover to fit in with the humans. The apartment was already bought for them, so they had never needed to worry about rent, and the pack had set up an account for Irini for food and bills and whatever else they needed.
Caia had lived her life listening for any small scrap of information Irini would give. She knew returning to the pack was all Irini thought about—it was how she got through her meaningless job each day. Irini had told her little of her parents’ death, despite Caia’s pleas. She knew only that a member of the Midnight Coven had targeted her and her parents, and that the pack had been thrown into a miniature war with a man they called the Hunter. The reason why she and her parents had been targeted had not been explained to Caia.
When she was younger, she thought her heart might break with the pain of not having known her parents, and of not knowing why they’d been ripped from her. But as she got older, she learned to stop asking, and the need had dissipated to a gentle thrum tucked somewhere under her skin. It had left her with a desire to be free of everything—the tiny apartment they shared, the obligation she felt toward the pack for having protected her. Caia wanted to travel the world—to taste the full scope of moonlight.