Chapter 86

Even though Daisy, Marcus, and I talk for nearly two hours about Daisy's recent conversation with Joel, I'm no closer to feeling any better than I did when she first came to tell us about the threats Joel made against us all.

There doesn't seem to be any good way out of this, for any of us. Nowhere seems safe, except maybe the mansion itself. Marcus has reassured me over and over that the Alpha's word is still law here, and that no one will try anything while he still lives.

Still, knowing that I'm staying in such close proximity to the people who want both Marcus and I dead and out of the way rankles at me. And now Daisy and her unborn daughter are at risk, too.

Plus, I have to consider that being in the Alpha's mansion, where his word is supposedly law, certainly didn't stop Charles from trying to kill him more than once already. And almost succeeding, that last time.

I just don't know what to do, I think to myself as I chew on my lower lip. I'm sitting at the little table in my kitchenette, a glass of red wine in front of me. Marcus is at the stove, humming softly as he flips omelets in a pan for us.

"Here we go," he says, bringing a plate over to me. The steam rising off of it smells delicious. "Ham, cheese, and mushroom, as requested."

"Thank you," I say, accepting the plate. I take a bite and close my eyes with pure joy. Sometimes, the simplest foods really are the best.

Not that there's anything particularly simple about the ingredients that went into this omelet, I suspect.

"Is this smoked cheese?" I ask Marcus.

"Only the best that money can buy," Marcus replies, bringing his own plate and glass of wine to the table to sit across from me.

"You really do spoil me here," I say. "I'm never going to be able to go back to discount coffee or supermarket mushrooms ever again."

Marcus looks at me very seriously, in a way that makes my belly flutter. In a nice way.

"I really hope you have no intentions of ever going back to discount coffee or supermarket mushrooms," he says mildly, taking a bite of his own omelet.

"I get the sense that you mean something else by that comment," I tease.

"You know that I do," he smiles. "But hush. Let's not talk about that now. Not until I can ask you properly. Plus, I don't know if my heart could take another rejection, Evelyn." He winks at me, to show that he's only joking.

"I didn't reject you!" I respond, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. "My goodness. Are all werewolf men as melodramatic as you are?"

Marcus laughs aloud. "Yes," he says around another mouthful of omelet. "We definitely are. It's a trait of our species, I think."

"Or your gender," I say. "I think human men are much the same."

"Don't be ridiculous," Marcus says, reaching across the table to refill my wine glass. "Human men have absolutely nothing on werewolves when it comes to theatrical personalities. Honestly, you offend my very nature by even suggesting such a thing."

"Well, that I could be persuaded to believe," I laugh, taking a sip of the wine. It's rich and full-bodied, dry and complex, just the way that I like it. I very much doubt the bottle cost less than $100. I really am getting spoiled to hell here, and I love it.

Whenever Marcus is ready to ask me to marry him again, I'm going to be ready to say yes. Even if I haven't told him my true identity yet. I'll have to tell him before we actually get married, of course - I could never spring something like that on him after the wedding.

But I'm so in love with this man across the table from me. The next time he asks me to be his wife, I won't be able to say no, or "just wait," again. Based on the soft smile Marcus is giving me, I think he knows that.

"What do you want to do after dinner?" Marcus asks. "Watch a movie? I could do with a quiet evening, just relaxing with you, to be honest."

"I'd love that," I say. "This week has really taken it out of me, if I'm being totally honest."

"Not hard to see why," Marcus says with a sigh. "I'm feeling the pinch, too. I wish we could get all of this resolved, once and for all. I'm tired of feeling like our very lives and futures hang in the balance like this."

"Me, too," I say. "Me, too."

After dinner cleanup, which Marcus insists on doing himself even though he's the one that cooked, we relocate to the living room. He's opened a second bottle of wine and places it on the coffee table in front of us.

I sink gratefully back into the comfortable couch cushions and let some of the tension leech out of my body.

"I could really get used to this place," I say for the billionth time. "My only regret is that it would be insane to light a fire in the middle of the summer."

"This place will always be your home," Marcus says gently, sinking next to me on the couch and giving my knee a fond squeeze. "Even if we never get married. You're a Friend of the Pack, and my father is planning on making it official, with a ceremony and everything."

"What?" I say. "That sounds - intense?"

"It's not," Marcus assures me. "It's just a very great honor. You'll always be free to live here. These rooms can be permanently assigned to you. Hell, if we do get married, I can even move in here, if you want."

"What?" I say again, startled. "What about your own rooms?"

"My own rooms are actually pretty utilitarian," Marcus admits, sounding a little sheepish. "I've never been one for fancy surroundings or decorating, at least not when it's just me. I don't have that touch that can make a place a home."

"That surprises me," I say. "I would have had you pegged as someone who enjoyed a cozy, well-worn place to escape to at the end of a busy day."

"It's something I'd love," Marcus says. "But not something I've ever really prioritized, in terms of making it happen for myself. I guess I've always just been too busy. My suite of rooms is smaller than this, and pretty Spartan."

"Do you think you'd really be happy moving into, what, a guest suite?"

"If you're here, a guest suite is all the home I'd ever need."

I smile, but my expression falters when I think of the villa. I love that house. It's really become home for me, even more than this comfortable little suite of rooms is. It's the first place I've ever had that was truly mine.

Marcus notices my expression.

"Evelyn, what's wrong?" he asks, sounding serious. He looks a little worried.

I hesitate, but then say, "Well, it's just that - I have a home, already. The one that was broken into. It's…well, it's very special to me, because it's the first place I have ever had that's mine. I love it. I want to marry you, but the thought of leaving that house behind does make me sad."

Marcus's face clears instantly.

"But, Evelyn, nothing could be easier!" he exclaims. He lets out a relieved laugh. "My god. There's no reason for you to give up your house. Most higher-up werewolves have more than one home, anyway."

"They do?" I ask. "But I thought you all lived in the mansion."

"We do all have accommodations here," Marcus says. "My family is a little unusual in that my siblings and myself all live here full time, though. Especially when we get families, it's more usual for us to move between the mansion and our other homes."

Now it's my turn to laugh in relief.

"I've just never really had a reason to move out of the mansion," Marcus says. "We can keep your suite of rooms here as our mansion accommodations, of course, but if you'll let me into your house, nothing would make me happier than to share it with you."

"That would make me happy," I say. "That would make me very, very happy, in fact."

Marcus grins at me and leans over to kiss me before reaching for the remote.

"Now that we've gotten that sorted out, why don't you pick a movie?" he asks.

"That sounds perfect to me," I say.