SIX

The pitter-patter of rain woke me up. Cracking open one eye, I observed the downpour outside the window. Opening both eyes, I studied my surroundings; I'm in my room - well, not my room but the room I was assigned to in the castle. Someone had the decency to carry me up the stairs and even tucked me into bed.

As that thought crossed my mind, my heart missed a beat. In one move, I yanked the covers off myself and uttered a breath of relief; I was still in the same clothes as earlier.

My whole body stiffened when flashes of what happened in the lobby came dawning on me.

I was on my way out when that wolf appeared out of nowhere and turned into Clemmy right before my eyes. That couldn't be real, right? It's impossible! Reyna must have spiked my coffee this morning, or maybe the chocolate cereal has gone bad because I had no other way of explaining it. I had to be hallucinating.

Four knocks at the door jolted me back to reality.

My head jerked towards the door but nothing else moved. Common sense told me if I kept still and held my breath, then whoever's on the other side will believe I'm still asleep and will eventually leave.

"Ashlyn?"

Shit, that's Rheon's voice.

Keep still, don't breathe...

"Ashlyn, I know you're awake, I can hear your heartbeat."

Common sense told me it's impossible for a human to hear another person's heart beating from so far away, but then again, I did see a wolf turn into a teenage girl. Who was I to say what is impossible? Cringing, I hit my head against the headboard. How bad can one person's luck get?

"I'm coming in - please don't throw something at me again."

I watched the door handle jiggle with an upheld breath and shrunk back into the covers when Rheon entered the room. There was not a single trace of evidence that he's been covered with flour a few hours ago. He wore a clean suit, and his hair was back to its original dark brown color. Was it wrong for me to think he's handsome after being locked in a pantry and only recently finding out werewolves are real?

Our eyes met and for a split second, I imagined him running his hands down my sides and legs, setting my skin ablaze everywhere he touched...

I forced myself out of that fantasy when he sat at the edge of the bed near my feet. In his eyes, I could see a storm raging. It reminded me of the story of Atlas, the Greek Titan who was condemned to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders for eternity. Whatever Rheon had on his mind weighed more than the world.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way - about us," he finally said.

It took me a second or two to realize he was referring to Clemmy being a wolf. Or was it a wolf being Clemmy? Am I sure it was even a wolf at all? I shook my head to rid it of those thoughts. Hell, I was already questioning everything I know.

"Just... be honest with me," I clutched the blanket to my chest as if it had the power to keep me safe, "Was that real? Did Clemmy..." I couldn't even say it out loud. It was too absurd.

He nodded.

"I still find it hard to believe."

He exhaled sharply and rose to his feet, towering above me. "Then tell me how this is fake."

Before I could even mentally prepare myself for the worst, his face crawled and altered. I felt the color drain from my face when he tilted his head upwards to look at me.

The white behind his striking blue eyes has turned completely black. His brows were arched unnaturally high, pushing inward to create a deep, menacing frown on his once perfect face. Thin, black veins branched from his eyes down his cheeks, and through his parted lips I could see a pair of inch-long fangs gleaming. Rheon turned his head from side to side, allowing me more glimpses of the sideburns protruding from his jaw, and the sharp tips of his ears.

Honestly, I expected worse; like some demonic creature with several rows of sharp teeth, three sets of horns, and a hideously deformed face. I guess watching the Underworld series with Madison gave me false expectations. But, hey, back then I didn't know werewolves actually existed.

Rheon remained in that form for about three seconds before his face returned to normal. His brows knitted together as he studied me, "That didn't scare you?"

"Scare me?" I nearly choked, "Not in the least. It freaked me out a bit, yeah. That's not normal, Rheon. You need to see someone about that, a doctor or... or a vet!" I laughed hysterically, "And I need to see a therapist. I'm finally losing it."

"You're in shock, I understand that," he tried keeping his voice even.

"Then I take it you'll also understand that I have no freaking clue what all of this has to do with me. They locked me in a pantry so I could miss my flight and then I overhear them saying some weird shit about me being your mate." I raked my fingers through my hair in complete frustration. "Can you explain that to me?"

Instantly, the storm returned to his eyes. Rheon turned towards the window, observing the rain pattering against the glass with his hands clasped behind his back.

"When a werewolf turns eighteen, they're bound to find their mate sooner or later," he started, "What makes it different than human relationships is we only have one mate; some find theirs in a matter of weeks or a year, some never do. It's an instinct that kicks in the moment you lay eyes on each other." He didn't meet my eyes as he sat at my feet again. "And when I saw you at the wedding for the first time, I just knew. Every cell and atom in me felt it and it's all I've been thinking of since."

I pulled my knees to my chest while allowing everything he just said to sink in. I'm not going to deny it; I felt something when I first caught a glimpse of his eyes when my phone so unceremoniously rang during the wedding. It was like my senses had a mind of their own, seeking him out among the guests and those darn hot flushes I got when he touched me...

"So, what now?" I managed to string a few words together, "Does being your... mate have any T's and C's I should know of?"

He seemed relieved for some reason - perhaps for the fact I wasn't screaming or throwing stuff at him. "Well, you definitely can't leave."

I shot upright quicker than one can say werewolf. "What do you mean I can't leave? I have to get back to my family, I have responsibilities, I... I... I'm getting engaged!"

"To Matt?"

My jaw nearly dropped to the floor. How on earth did he know that?

As if reading my mind, he gestured at my phone on the bedside table, "He left you about a hundred voicemails. Really, Ash? Him? You can do better."

"And I assume you're referring to yourself." I immediately jumped to defense. "Because locking girls in pantries is a real panty-dropper."

"And we're back on that," he sighed.

"I don't think you understand how serious this is." I swung my legs over the bed and started pacing. "My parents won't take lightly to me randomly deciding to stay in Scotland. My father already believes I have zero regards for responsibilities and besides, I only have one set of clothes in my suitcase. Newsflash, I didn't actually plan on staying more than one night and -"

I sucked in a sharp breath when out of the blue, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me flush against him. His other hand was covering my mouth, muffling everything I still wanted to say.

"Ah, silence. Delightful." A smile tugged at his lips at my annoyed expression. "And now that I have your undivided attention, here's what's going to happen. A little birdie told me your business is struggling, you're behind on your studio's rent and you're only marrying this Matt lad because your father expects you to."

My brows nearly shot through the roof. How the hell did he know that?!

"I have my sources." He shrugged as if reading my thoughts through my expression. "So, I came up with a proposition - for your benefit, of course. Direfair's travel agency is looking for a photographer to take a few pictures of the local sights and hotspots for their new brochure. They're paying generously, enough to afford four months' studio rent. Just say you'll stay for the week. Tell your parents you're working, tell Matt he can sod off or postpone the engagement for a few days, just... stay. Please."

I saw the desperation in his gaze. Even if I wanted to say no I couldn't, not while he's looking at me like that. There was no denying that he's handsome and somewhat charming. And I might regret admitting it later, but I definitely felt drawn to him. It was hard to describe; like he's a magnet and I'm the needle in a haystack he's been searching for.

My common sense, however, kept me from throwing myself at him like some emotionally confused teenager who reads Twilight and who probably has a shrine dedicated to Jacob Black in her room. I'm dating Matt, I have to remember that. Just because I turned out to be a werewolf's mate doesn't mean I'm just going to forget everything and dump my boyfriend and soon to be fiancé.

But this could be a way to prove my father wrong. I shrugged internally; the little voice had a point. Even if only for once, I would like to hear him tell me he's proud of me. This was my chance to show him I'm responsible and willing to work to earn my place in the world.

This could either be the best or worst decision I'll ever make in my life, but I made up my mind.

Prying Rheon's fingers off my mouth, I nodded. "Deal. But only for a week."

He visibly relaxed and released his hold on me. "Thank you. I'll inform the travel agency right away."

I watched him back out of the room. Only when I heard his footsteps fade down the hall, did it dawn on me what I did.

Holy crap.

I threw a werewolf with flour.