Chapter 97

Ollie’s POV

Wes’s heated glance starts to take on some confusion. “Angel, you are literally standing in my bedroom doorway totally naked.”

Where I was careful with my words with Hugh and Declan, I found myself being more honest and straightforward with Wes. He was the most gentle, after all. If anyone could handle this with some grace, it’s Wes.

“Conrad totally destroyed my clothes, but then he gave me one of his t-shirts to wear,” I say, the words coming out in a long ramble. “But then I ran into Hugh, who had to mark me, and then when I was looking for my room, I walked in on Declan…”

“Oh,” Wes says, already seeming to understand without me even having to finish my story.

“Yeah,” I say. “He made me take the shirt off and leave it, and forced me into the hallway naked. I’m still looking for my room, and I just tried this one, hoping it was mine…”

“I see,” Wes says. As I speak, his eyes dart up to the ceiling. “In that case, please give me a moment.”

With that, he steps around me, careful not to look at me or touch me, and into his bedroom. He goes right for the attached bathroom. When he returns he is holding a clean fluffy white towel that he then hands out to me.

I’m so grateful for it, I reach without thinking.

Wes catches another eye-full, his cheeks red as a cherry tomato, before he lifts his gaze up to the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” we both say at the same time.

Hurriedly, I wrap the towel around myself. When it’s secure, I exhale a bit in relief and tell him. “Okay, it’s done.”

He darts his eyes down quickly once, as if only peeking to be sure. When he sees I’m wrapped up in the towel, he relaxes as well. He’s still blushing though.

When he speaks, his words come out rushed, his embarrassment clear, “I’m sorry I assumed… I should have known that this wasn’t… Uh…”

“It’s okay, Wes, really,” I say, flattered by his shyness. “I’m sorry for barging in. I’m just trying to find my own room…”

“I, uh, can show you,” Wes says. “It’s just down here.”

He carefully steps around me again, and then leads me down the hallway. We reach a room I had passed up for Wes’s, next to Conrad’s and across the hallway from Hugh’s.

Wes opens the door and we both step inside. My luggage is there, piled neatly by the dresser, just waiting for me to put it away.

I’m going to have to be careful around Conrad, I decide. He tends to live on the wild side with his sex, and the number of outfits I have packed is finite. Maybe I can walk around the estate more freely than I would have thought, but that doesn’t mean I won’t need clothes to go home in.

From beside me, I can feel Wes staring at the marks on my neck and shoulders. When I look over at him, he turns away quickly, as if trying to hide what he was doing.

Wes is the kindest and gentlest of the brothers, but he is still one of them. He must still feel the same jealousy, the same possessiveness, even if he is more reserved about it.

“Wes,” I say.

“Hm?” he asks, purposefully looking away from me again.

“The marks Conrad left on me made Hugh jealous enough to leave his own, and then likewise with Declan,” I say. “Perhaps you…?”

He glances back at me.

His eyes on me make me feel more confident. He was so accepting of me as Angel, I feel like I could tell him anything.

“Would you like to leave a mark too?”

“Yes,” he says, surprising me with his bluntness. I thought he might stammer some, or blush. Instead, he reaches for my hand, brings it up to his lips and presses a soft kiss on the back of my palm. His touch is gentle, and the kiss is sweet.

It moves my heart in no less momentous ways than the more direct advances from the other brothers had.

“Wes…” I say, a sigh.

He smiles against my skin before pulling back and releasing me.

“The only marks I want to leave are on your heart, Angel.”

My heart leaps so hard at the words that I have to press a hand to my chest, worried it might fly out of my ribcage.

“If you will excuse me,” he says. “I will see you at dinner.”

With that, he turns and leaves me alone in my room. I wait until he’s back down the hall, entering his own room, before I close my door.

Then, walking into the bathroom, I’m desperate for a shower. Once I’m there, I turn on the hot water, then drop the towel. Standing in front of the mirror, I carefully inspect each and every mark left on me by all of the brothers. Wes’s, of course, is the most difficult to perceive. It’s more one that I feel inside.

The rest, however, are clear as day. Love marks and bruises cover most of my shoulders and chest, thanks to Conrad. And the marks Declan and Hugh made on my neck are big and red, impossible to hide.

Just because the servants won’t look at my nakedness, doesn’t mean they won’t notice all these marks.

What will they think of me…?

Maybe Declan is right. Maybe I really am a slut.

Yet, with the brothers, I find that I can’t bring myself to care.

They are my fated mates, and right now, I will take them however I can get them, knowing I will be unable to have them later, and for the rest of our lives.

Carefully, I remove my mask and leave it on the counter by the sink.

My reflection looks even stranger now. I’m no longer the mysterious Angel, but the known and despised Ollie.

Here, like this, I finally start to feel some shame.

I liked it better when I could pretend to be someone else, not the woman who is lying to her mates about who she is, knowing they would hate the real me.

Sometimes, I hate the real me too.

The hot water from the shower starts to fog up the mirror, finally forcing my gaze away.

I step into the shower, letting the cascade wash away the scent of the brothers, hoping to feel refreshed again.

After emptying my luggage, placing all my clothes into the dresser drawers, I carefully pick out an outfit for the evening.

It’s hotter here than I expected, though that makes sense for the tropical climate. Still, I didn’t expect the humidity.

I don’t want to wear anything too heavy, so I pull on a knee-length sundress. It does nothing to hide the marks, but there’s nothing in my suitcases that will.

I could try to cover them with makeup, but I imagine the quadruplets would only see that as a challenge to attempt to leave more, and in places more difficult to cover.

Deciding to accept that this is just how things are going to be this week, I gather my courage, and open my door, stepping out into the hallway.

Wanting to explore – and to finally see the ocean, I start down the stairs.

At the base of the stairs, Delilah looks over at me from where she’s standing near what looks to be the doorway to the kitchen. Her eyes dart to my neck and she smiles.

“Ah, so it’s true then,” she says. “These troublesome boys have finally found their fated mate.”