Chapter 25

Elena

Warm blankets surrounded me in the dark room where I slept. Everything smelled like whiskey and spearmint—a strange combination of scents, and yet one that was so familiar and comforting I couldn’t help but burrow down deeper into the pillows and inhale deeply.

Killian.

The name flitted through my consciousness, and with it came a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in weeks, no, years. This was my mate’s scent, my mate’s bed, my mate’s room. How many nights had I hoped, in the early days of our marriage, that he would invite me to sleep here every night? That he’d hold me after we made love instead of sending me away?

Too many. But now I was here, sleeping in his bed, surrounded by the smell of his skin…

Suddenly, as the realization hit me, my eyes snapped open.

His room. I was in Killian’s room. The room where I had only slept a handful of times before.

The peaceful feeling I’d briefly felt evaporated in an instant. I certainly hadn’t fallen asleep here. The last thing I remembered was going to bed in my own room after exercising, exhausted and sore. So how the fuck had I ended up in Killian’s bed?

I shot upright, the silk sheets pooling around my waist as I frantically checked myself. My nightgown was still on, thank the Goddess, although it had ridden up slightly during the night. But that didn’t mean…

Had he touched me while I slept? The thought made me want to be sick, especially when I recalled the hungry look in his eyes when he had seen me exercising and how I had turned him away.

Had he carried me here in the middle of the night to finally take what he wanted without having to deal with my newfound defiance?

I scrambled out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor, and ignored the soreness in my body. The room looked exactly as it always had—dark furniture, heavy curtains blocking out most of the morning light, not a single personal touch anywhere. Even after five years of marriage, this room still felt more like a hotel than a home.

Fury bubbled up inside of me as I realized that Killian wasn’t even here. How dare he? How fucking dare he move me without my consent, bring me to his bed like I was some doll he could position however he wanted, then leave first thing in the morning? Had he even shared the bed with me, or had he used me and then left to go cry by Natalie’s grave?

I didn’t bother with a robe or slippers, and instead stormed out of the room and down the stairs, my white braid streaming behind me. I was going to give him a piece of my mind. And maybe another slap.

The sound of voices led me to the parlor, and I burst through the doorway without knocking.

“What the hell did you do to me last night?” I demanded.

Killian looked up from where he was sitting reading the morning paper, looking more begrudging than surprised or even guilty. But it was the other person in the room who made me freeze.

Tiffany was sitting across from him with a cup of tea held between her fingers. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in my appearance—a wild, half-undone braid, bare feet, thin nightgown that showed almost everything underneath in the morning light.

“Well,” she said with a smirk, “this isn’t how I expected to see my Luna at this hour.”

Heat flooded my face, but I refused to back down or cover myself. Instead, masking my surprise and humiliation, I kept my glare fixed on Killian, who had set down his paper and was watching me with those unreadable black eyes.

“Answer me,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “Why was I in your bed?”

“You don’t remember?” He tilted his head slightly, and something that might have been concern—if I didn’t know any better—flickered across his face. “You came to me in the middle of the night. You were crying, clearly having some sort of nightmare.”

I blinked, thrown off by that. “I… did what?”

“You were sleepwalking,” he said as if we were discussing the weather. “You ran right into my arms in the hallway, sobbing about something. You wouldn’t let go of me, so I brought you to my room to sleep.”

My mind raced as I tried to recall any of this. But there was nothing—just the vague memory of my recurring nightmare about my death, and then waking up in his bed. Had I really sought him out in my sleep because of my nightmare?

The thought was mortifying, to say the least. I hoped I didn’t say anything incriminating, not that I thought Killian would believe me if I told him I had died and come back to life. But he might think I was crazy and lock me up, so the stakes were just as high.

But then came the other question: had he slept with me? Had we shared a bed?

“Did you…” I couldn’t finish the question with Tiffany sitting there watching us, sipping her tea. No doubt she would write about this incident in her journal, or perhaps gossip about it to her friends.

The Alpha and Luna who couldn’t even fathom sleeping in the same bed together. The perfect opportunity for her to waltz in and take her “rightful” place as his real Luna.

“Sleep in the same bed, you mean?” Killian asked. He didn’t answer directly, just picked up his coffee and took a sip. The look in his eyes told me that he had slept somewhere else.

So he hadn’t touched me after all. Relief washed over me, followed quickly by confusion. Killian had actually taken care of me in the middle of the night? Had held me while I cried and given me his bed while he slept… where? The sofa?

It didn’t make sense. This was the same man who had killed me in my past life, who had made it clear he would never love me.

What if…

No. I quickly squashed the idea that he might actually be different in this life, refusing to let myself read into this. He’d probably only done it out of pity, or maybe obligation as his mate. Nothing more.

Killian stood abruptly.

“I have meetings all day,” he announced, straightening his tie. “Tiffany, remember what we discussed. You’re to accompany Elena wherever she goes.”

“Of course, Alpha.” Tiffany’s smile was serene, as if she weren’t currently wearing the necklace that woman had given me yesterday. The pearl against her throat felt like an insult, not just to me, but to the woman who had gifted it to me. “I’ll take excellent care of her.”

Care of me. Like I was a child to be babysat.

Killian nodded once, then left without another word or glance in my direction. I continued to stand there in my nightgown, feeling exposed and ridiculous, while Tiffany’s amused gaze raked over me.

“You should probably get dressed,” she suggested sweetly. “Unless you plan to conduct your Luna duties in your pajamas? Although I suppose that might be one way to get attention, and you seem to enjoy that lately.”

I ground my teeth together, considering my options. I could refuse to leave the house today, bore her into giving up on Killian’s orders. Or maybe…

An idea began to form in my mind. If Killian wanted Tiffany to babysit me, then I’d make sure she earned every moment of it.

“You’re right,” I said with a smile that was all teeth. “I should get dressed. After all, we have a very busy day ahead of us.”

“Do we?”

“Of course.” I headed toward the door, already planning out the most tedious, exhausting schedule I could imagine. “You’re supposed to accompany me everywhere, aren’t you? Well, today you’ll be joining me for all of my Luna duties.”

If she wanted to play babysitter, then I’d make her regret ever accepting the position.

“Come on then,” I called over my shoulder as I left the parlor. “We have so much work to do. I do hope you wore comfortable shoes.”