Chapter 48

Soren

My servants and maids move around my mansion with calculated ease as they — well, we — all await Celia’s arrival. She is finally moving into my mansion, which is basically a fortified home to live in, and I know that she may hold some feelings of awkwardness or irritation towards me.

I don’t blame her for it, though, since this whole ordeal has been a lot to carry and to hold. Ever since Celia was revealed to be the missing Lycan Princess. Ever since Bianca drove the blade into Celia’s body, tensions have risen between the Lycans and Werewolves with the Duke and I trying to put out fires wherever we go.

Many nobles have shared and expressed their concern over the Werewolf pack caring for and protecting the Lycan princess. They claim that we do not need to care for her since it was the Lycans who decided to ruin our alliance and treaty with them, not us.

While all of that is true, it was just one family from within the Lycans that decided to go after Celia, nobody else. They will pay for their crimes soon enough. It is not for us, the Werewolves, to worry about. What we need to focus on is fortifying our alliance with the Lycans and by doing that, we need to take care of Celia.

I need to take care of Celia.

“When is she coming? Is she late?” I ask my Beta as soon as he approaches my side, clicking away at something on his tablet he always has with him.

“She will be here any second, sir, please be patient. She refused our help with movers so I think it is her and her friend, Lily, who will be here,” my Beta’s cool and calm response helps me relax, even if it is just a small part of me that relaxes.

“We have the servants here to help so her friend will not be necessary,” I make the remark and glance at my Beta, who chuckles and shakes his head.

“And what will be the reason for us turning her around, sir?” my Beta asks.

“Security risk,” I respond with a quick shrug.

I slip my hands into my pants pockets and approach the front door of the house. Many servants flood to the doors, pushing them open as a small car comes down the long gravel driveway. I slowly exit the house and step through the door, remaining at the top of the steps as the car comes to a slow stop at the bottom.

I watch as Celia gets out of the car. She looks up the steps and shields her eyes from the sun, nodding her head at me, before moving to the back of the car. She opens the trunk and I signal for my servants to gather her belongings.

As soon as Celia and Lily, who was driving, touch a bag, one of my people take it from them, hurrying up the stairs and inside the house towards Celia’s room. My Beta pushes past me and descends the stairs, approaching Celia with a bow before turning to Lily to break the news.

Celia steps around the Beta and stares at me from the bottom of the stairs. I look back and gesture my head towards the front door. She hesitates and looks over her shoulder at Lily, waving her away, before she walks up the stairs.

I know that Celia knows her way around my home. She has been here plenty of times before, having made herself at home during our contracted relationship. She does not need a tour of the house but I feel like I should prepare her for the changes that Bianca made, changes that I am trying to undo as fast as I possibly can.

“Soren,” she greets me with no smile on her face, “how has your day been so far?”

“It has been okay, Celia,” I breathe out, the faint smell of storm wind and honeysuckle filling the air. “I have been preparing for your arrival. The place needed a bit of change.”

“Change?” Celia questions with a raised eyebrow, “Changed how?”

“That is not important,” I say with a shrug and step to the side, allowing her to pass inside the house first. “What matters now is that you’re here and can make yourself at hime.”

“Oh, is that all?” Celia pushes past me and enters the mansion. I follow behind.

“Why? Were you expecting something more?” I ask and take my place at her side.

“No…did you redecorate after I left?” Celia avoids my gaze and gestures to the movers.

“No,” I suck in a breath, “Bianca did. I have no control over it.”

In front of us, the house is in an organized chaos. The furniture that Bianca bought, the ridiculously expensive Lycan pieces that had to be specially imported, is slowly being gathered in the front of the house. Servants and movers move from all around us, carrying and moving other items.

I look down at Celia to see what her reaction is but she can barely look at me. Her fingers pick at the hem of her shirt, anxiety running throughout her body.

She must feel ashamed about being a burden on my plate. I will try my best to alleviate that stress, wanting her to feel at home rather than being a hostage in another location.

“Would you like me to show you to your room?” I ask, trying to fill in the awkward silence that has formed between the two of us. Celia nods and quickly moves behind me and out of my sight.

I walk towards the stairs and glance behind me every now and then to make for sure that she is still following. I help Celia up the stairs and stop at the third floor where the main and master bedrooms sit. We pause as she catches her breath, holding onto her stomach where the wound sits.

My room, the master bedroom, is at the end of the hallway. Celia’s room is close to mine but is just far enough for her to feel like she has her own space. Her room sits at the opposite end of the hallway, placed inside her own little personal bubble. I explain this to her once we reach the top step.

“So, if there is anything you need or if you do not feel safe, you can always come down the hall to my bedroom and I will be able to assist you with whatever it is you need,” I speak.

We slowly walk down the hallway, passing by extra bathrooms and unused offices and bedrooms. She nods with my words but doesn’t respond, simply looking around as she takes in her new — and maybe temporary — home.

I push open the bedroom door and reveal the grand bedroom. It is all made up and is ready for her to live in, the scent of fresh laundry filling the bedroom air. Celia steps inside and my mind begins to run at a mile a minute.

There are so many things that I wish to say to her. I wish for us to talk about the past, to open and own up to the mistakes that we made, and move past the hurdles that are bound to keep us apart.

I will respect her choice if she chooses to remain friends, allies, instead of slipping into the role as fated mates. All I wish is for us to be okay.

As soon as I open my mouth to speak, Celia steps inside the bedroom and closes the door, the sound of the clicking lock ringing inside my ears.

The past will have to remain in the past, I suppose, and if she still needs time and space, I will remain as patient as I can even though I hate the distance that has formed between us.