CHAPTER 4

Elsin Waveridge POV

Elsin’s wet fingers slipped uselessly against the rough timber of the heavy crate, her strength giving out under the punishing assault of the storm. Just as the wooden edge tilted toward the mud, a massive, warm hand shot through the rain, taking the full weight of her burden without a single tremble.

"Allow me," a deep, velvet voice rumbled right above her head.

Elsin gasped, looking up into the shadows as the male thrust a wide, dark umbrella into her shivering hand. Before she could process his presence, he lifted the massive crate effortlessly against his chest and strode toward the stone entrance of her apartment dwelling.

She snapped back to her senses three seconds later, rushing after him to hold the canopy over his head until they cleared the threshold into the lit lobby.

Alaric Westbourne carried her heavy cargo all the way up the stone stairs, setting the crates down neatly outside her doorway without dropping a single drop of rain onto her precious spirit gems.

"Thank you, warrior," Elsin panted, wringing out her wet sleeves. "My bone charms would have been completely destroyed in the mud if you hadn't intervened. Do you require silver coins? Or I can offer a hot meal at the market tomorrow. I must repay this debt."

Elsin’s vision was blurred from the rain and her lack of spirit-sight lenses. She had lost her corrective glass frames in the rush to clear her runner-wagon, and her wolf-eyes were notoriously weak in the dark. To her, the tall male in front of her was just a broad, shadowy protector with an intense, intoxicating scent. She didn't recognize him as her newly bound mate.

It had only been four days since they signed the parchment at the Elders Hall, and they hadn't exchanged a single mind-link message since.

Alaric leaned his shoulder against the wall, his gray eyes darkening as he tracked her movements. "I don't require silver coins or market meals. A cup of hot mead inside your chambers would suffice."

Elsin instantly took a step back, her spine stiffening as her voice turned icy and distant. "Step away, warrior. I have a bound mate."

Alaric’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk. He leaned down, bringing his face inches from hers until his hot breath brushed her cold cheek. "I'm glad you remember your bond, little wolf. But you should look closer."

Elsin blinked through the blur, her golden eyes widening as his sharp cheekbones and piercing gray gaze came into focus. "Mr... Westbourne? Uh... Alaric..."

She stumbled over his name, her cheeks burning with instant shame.

Alaric shook his head with a faint, helpless chuckle. "Alaric. It seems my mate forgets her male quickly."

"When did you return from Vinkintop Blackswan?" Elsin asked, stepping backward, flustered to her core.

"Just now," Alaric said, straightening his broad shoulders. "My pack duties ran long, and I failed to send a mind-link."

"It's fine."

He nodded, watching her intently. "Then we're even."

Elsin bit her lip, trying desperately to salvage her pride. "I'm sorry. I have weak vision without my spirit-lenses, and the storm was dark... I didn't mean to mistake my own mate for a stranger."

The freezing rain had plastered her thin tunic to her skin, outlining every curve of her waist and chest under the torchlight. She looked raw and vulnerable, but her golden eyes burned with a stubborn, fiery pride that made Alaric’s dominant wolf roar under his ribs.

Alaric unbuttoned his heavy, wool-lined mantle and draped it over her drenched shoulders, his warm scent of cedar and silver wrapping around her instantly. "Get inside and warm your blood. Your wolf will catch a chill."

Elsin looked down at the massive mantle swallowing her frame, her face burning hotter. "Thank you. You're soaked through as well... Do you wish to come in and dry your tunic?"

The words left her mouth before she could stop them, and her stomach plummeted. Would he think she was inviting him into her bed on their second meeting?

Alaric stared at her with a half-smile, watching the rapid panic flashing across her delicate features. She was nothing like the high-ranking Alpha females who threw themselves at his feet in the pack Council chambers. She was a wild, stubborn independent artisan, fiercely self-reliant yet adorably flustered by his proximity.

Elsin opened her mouth to retract the invite, but Alaric spoke first. "No. That would be unwise."

Elsin closed her mouth, her chest tight with a sudden, humiliating pang of rejection.

Alaric caught her subtle shift in posture and added softly, "It's too late in the night, and I haven't yet presented my bloodline gifts to your mother. It would be disrespectful to enter your maiden chambers before I honor your house properly. I will bring formal pack offerings when I return."

Elsin swallowed hard, relieved yet strangely breathless.

Alaric bent down, lifting the heavy crate once more to push it just inside her doorway. "Rest your wolf tonight, Elsin. And begin packing your belongings."

Elsin blinked at him in total confusion. "Packing? Why?"

Alaric smiled at her blank expression, his gray eyes flashing with possessive heat. "We signed the mate bond at the Elders Hall. You're my legal mate now. Did you think we would live in separate territories?"

Elsin froze. She had completely forgotten that part. In pack law, a bound pair shared a single threshold and a single bed. When she rushed to get the parchment to stop her mother's nagging, she hadn't planned for the reality of living with a full-grown male wolf.

Would they be sharing a bed? Her pulse hammered violently against her throat. She couldn't back out now without breaking the solemn oath and dishonoring her family.

"I understand," Elsin whispered, her voice barely audible. "I will pack."