Chapter 49

Ollie’s POV

I freeze, my hand on the doorknob, ready to make my escape like a frightened rabbit about to flee a hungry fox. Yet, something about Wes’s voice, his gentle coaxing, keeps me from opening the door.

It must be his tone. He’s always been the softest, kindest of the brothers. After Sylvia poisoned them against me, he stopped being gentle with me. Now when he speaks to me, he sounds like he’s scolding or patronizing me. He always seems so disappointed in everything I do.

How he’s talking to me right now is nothing like that. He doesn’t know I’m Ollie. He only knows that I’m his mate, and he’s once again speaking as if I’m someone precious and special – someone who is worthy of care, not just criticism.

“I just want to talk,” he says again.

I should walk out this door and disappear back into the night. I don’t think Wes is the type who would chase me. He would let me go if I left, of that I’m certain. He might have changed in the past few years, but not that fundamentally.

“Please,” he adds, and it’s enough to tear my heart in two.

“Stay,” Scarlet whispers in my mind. “Hear him out. He belongs to us…”

“He’s one of them,” I remind her. “He turned against us, choosing Sylvia time and again. If we open ourselves to him now, he’ll only hurt us again.”

“You can’t be certain…”

I am pretty damn sure, but… the heart wants what it wants. Even though I’m absolutely positive that this will end with me being heartbroken and miserable, I still want to see it through. The happiness I might feel, before the inevitable doomed end, might be enough to make it worth it.

How often do I get to feel happy?

“Give him a chance,” Scarlet says. “For me.”

Slowly, I remove my hand from the doorknob and slowly turn to face Wes. The worry that pinches his face clears as he sees I am moving to stay.

“Thank you,” he says. He gestures for me to move further into the cabin, away from the door, but I stay right where I am, unmoving. He clears his throat. “Hugh didn’t want to give you up, let me clear that up right away. I cornered him and threatened to tell my brothers. I don’t think I would have actually done that, but I apologize to you for that threat.”

So Hugh didn’t betray me willingly. That helped ease some of my rankled nerves.

“He smelled like you,” Wes continues. “I was able to put together the rest.”

He smelled like me? My cheeks heat up as I realize it must have been because of those panties he stole. Gods, why did I ever let him take those.

Wes holds up his hands at once, palms forward. “I don’t expect anything. I don’t know what kind of arrangement you and Hugh have. He only told me you value your anonymity. That’s okay with me. I won’t push, but… I want to know you. I want to be near you. I…”

He swallows thickly. A timer dings from the meager kitchen in the corner of the room.

“I made you dinner,” he says.

I blink, startled. “You… cooked?”

“For you,” he says. “Yes. I set up the table here. I thought we could have a… well, like a date, I suppose. Just the two of us. You don’t have to talk about anything too personal. I just want to exist together for a while.”

I’m so confused. With Hugh, we only focus on hooking up. Was seems the opposite. If he wants to sleep with me, he’s not immediately pushing for it. Instead, it seems like he wants to wine and dine me.

“Please,” he says, and gestures towards the table. “Sit and I’ll bring out dinner.”

I don’t understand. At all. He must see the confusion on my face.

“You are our mate,” he says, like it’s that simple. “I just want to treat you right.”

Without realizing it, tears well in my eyes. I haven’t been cherished like this in so long… My emotions are starting to overwhelm me.

Hoping to hide the tears, I hurry toward the table and sit where he directed.

The old wooden two-person table is covered in a white tablecloth. There’s a pair of candlesticks set up in the center, lit, the small flame dancing on the wick.

Wes hurries toward the small kitchen and pulls what seems to be chicken from the oven. He plates the food, then adds the finishing touches, including a scoop of mashed potatoes and some veggies that had been on the stovetop.

When he’s ready, he brings two plates over. After setting one in front of me, he sets the other in front of the open seat, then sits down there.

The food looks amazing! Its chicken covered in a creamy sauce, with some buttery mashed potatoes and green beans on the side. It smells good too.

I’ve been sneaking quick meals and snacks out of the kitchen for so long now that I’ve started to forget what a home-cooked meal looked, smelled, and tasted like.

What surprises me the most is I had no idea Wes could cook. He’s never done so at home, at least not that I’ve seen.

I want to ask him about it but I need to phrase it in a way that won’t give myself away.

“Where did you learn to cook?” I ask.

“Self-taught,” he says. “My brothers tease me for having an endless stream of hobbies. Maybe they’re right too. But I don’t regret any of them, least of all learning to cook. Especially if it means I can cook meals like this for you.”

My blush reappears as my heart skips a beat. This is so kind… Too kind, almost. My tears well again. This time, one does slip over. It catches on the edge of my mask.

Wes immediately starts to stand. “What’s wrong?” he asks, worry in his voice. “Did I do something wrong?”

I stand too, eager to set things right. “No, Wes. Nothing is wrong.”

Overwhelmed with affection for him, I near him, press myself up to my toes, and place a whisper of a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

His eyes widen slightly, even as his concern dims.

“Thank you,” I tell him. “You’ve made me feel very special.”

He smiles, warm and soft. It heats me up from the inside out, chasing away any lingering doubts that I made the right choice by staying here.

“Sit,” he says. “Enjoy the meal. And know that there are many more to come, if you would allow me to see you again.”

“You want to see me again?” I ask. I have no idea what I’ve done to earn such affection from him.

My presence seems enough to make him happy. “I want to see you as much as you’ll allow,” he says.

When I reached out to Hugh, I only intended to have emotionless hookups to help give my wolf strength enough to repress our scent and the mating bond.

What Wes wants is something entirely different. It’s almost like an actual relationship, and I have no idea what to do with that.

I should tell him no. But… the heart wants what it wants, and my heart wants him. Wants this. For however long I can have it.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?” he repeats, the hope in his eyes stealing my breath away.

“Yes,” I say, and it feels like a promise.