HARPER
I hastily finished my drink, feeling a bit wobbly. I wasnât sure how much Iâd had, but Iâd definitely slowed down from my initial pace. I found myself zoning out, my mind wandering back to my conversation with Sierra.
My inner beast was restless, yearning to return to her, to talk to her, to be near her. I ran a hand over my face, feeling the effects of the alcohol. I was disappointed that Sierra hadnât shown up, but maybe it was for the best.
I was pretty tipsy earlier and could have said or done something stupid if she had. Now, I couldnât shake the feeling that she had chosen not to come because of what Iâd said. I worried she might think I was no longer interested, which wasnât true.
I had made it clear that I was only interested in her. Any woman who approached me at the event was quickly dismissed, especially if they tried to touch me. It just felt wrong.
With a heavy sigh, I bid the group goodbye and stumbled away. I fumbled for my keys but then reconsidered. I was in no condition to drive.
âHarper.â I heard Miguelâs voice and stopped in my tracks. I blinked, my stomach dropping. Why was he here? Was Sierra okay?
I had been obsessively checking my phone, but there were no messages. âWhat are you doing here? Whereâs Sierra?â I asked, my voice edged with concern.
Miguel held out his hand. âSierra was here earlier, but she didnât stay long. She felt uncomfortable in the crowd,â he explained. âShe asked me to drive you home. She was worried about you,â he added.
I hesitated for a moment, then handed him my keys. I wasnât in any shape to drive, and I didnât feel like walking. âDid she feed?â I asked as we headed toward my car. The ground seemed to shift under my feet.
âSierra took care of her needs in the way she saw fit,â he replied. His vague answer left me frowning. What did that mean? Had she not fed properly?
I grumbled under my breath as we reached my car. âWhere is she now?â I asked as we got into the car.
âAs far as I know, sheâs at your house,â he said. His answer didnât reassure me. Wasnât he supposed to be watching her?
I leaned back in the seat, lost in thought.
âYou seem to have a profound effect on Sierra,â Miguel said suddenly. âShe was quite upset earlier. Iâve never seen her care so much about what someone else thinks. Sheâs been more lively since sheâs been with you, not like the shell she was at Red Coven. Just thought you should know,â he added.
I looked at him, surprised. âDo you care about her?â I asked, a hint of jealousy creeping into my voice.
âI do,â he admitted. âSheâs never been cruel or unkind. She didnât deserve what her father did to her or Kaven. I always felt guilty standing by and letting her do what they told her,â he confessed. âIâm glad I wonât have to do that anymore. I felt less of a man for it.â
His words were telling. We pulled into the driveway. It was late, or rather, early. I glanced at the car in the drive, then at Miguel.
âThanks for the ride. Itâs probably best I didnât drive,â I said, and he nodded. We got out of the car, and I headed toward the house while he walked off.
I took a deep breath and entered the dark house. Sierraâs scent filled the air, but the house was silent. I noticed that my bedroom door was open and the flowers I had gotten her were missing.
I frowned, wondering why they were gone. Had she thrown them away in anger? I walked down the hall toward my room.
âSierra?â I called out, but there was no response.
The bed was made, and the bathroom was dark. I picked up my phone to send her a message. ~Did you leave?~ I texted, pulling off my shirt and tossing it into the hamper.
I was feeling the effects of the alcohol and was also quite tired. My phone buzzed in my hand.
~No, I just went outside,~ her message read.
I looked around the room, but it didnât look like sheâd been here for a few hours. Was she wandering around somewhere? I was too tired to care. Another message came through.
~Iâll be back in a moment. Just need to clean up.~
I was a bit confused as to why she needed to clean up, but my brain was foggy. I sat down on the bed, half undressed, staring at the screen. ~Okay~, I replied, although I had a few questions.
My eyes were heavy, and I was feeling the effects of the alcohol. I knew nothing bad was going to happen, and she wasnât out there doing something against our pack. She probably just needed some space from me and the house. But at least she was coming back.
I wasnât the one who had made her my mate. If she had a problem with it, it wasnât fair for her to keep her distance when I hadnât done anything wrong. I rubbed my face, telling myself not to get depressed.
It was the alcohol and my restless inner beast making me think like this. Sleep would be good. I didnât need to wait for her. I could talk to her in the morning. I didnât even know how long until she was going to come back.
I shot a look at the door, then the hallway. I was so over sleeping on the couch. Screw it, it was her turn. This was my house, after all. I shouldnât have to keep sacrificing my comfort. If she wanted space, she could find it on the couch.
I kicked off my pants with a grunt, scooped them up, and tossed them in the general direction of the hamper. Whatever. I was feeling a whirlwind of emotions, and the alcohol wasnât doing me any favors.
I flopped onto the bed, pulling the top sheet over my lower half. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light. Exhausted, but not from physical fatigue. It was emotional. I clutched the pillow, which still smelled like her. I closed my eyes and drifted off into a light sleep.
SIERRA
The sound of a car pulling up outside caught my attention. I was in the backyard, admiring the flowers Iâd just planted. Iâd chosen to put them in a pot out here, wanting to make a statement of permanence, of ownership.
It felt right. Maybe heâd see that I was serious about accepting his offer. It might seem silly, but it made me feel better.
I responded to a text message and glanced toward the bedroomâs sliding doors. No lights on. He must be inside.
I decided against walking through his room with dirt still clinging to me. His carpet was light-colored, and I didnât want to ruin it. After a moment of nail-biting indecision, I decided to go around to the front.
My hands were clean, thanks to the garden hose, but my pants and shoes were still dirty. Planting had been therapeutic, but now that he was back, I was anxious about discussing what I wanted. Miguel had texted me that heâd driven him home.
He was probably still feeling the effects of the alcohol. I felt a pang of guilt knowing I was the reason for his drinking. How angry was he?
Would he be upset that I hadnât joined him at the festivities? Taking a deep breath, I rounded the front of the house and found the front door unlocked. I stepped inside, locked the door behind me, and kicked off my shoes.
The house was dark and quiet. I glanced at the couch, but he wasnât there. A frown creased my forehead as I moved through the kitchen toward the hallway.
âHarper?â I called softly, but there was no response. I reached the bedroom and saw him on the bed, his back to me, his breathing light.
I hesitated, glancing back at the living room. Was I supposed to sleep out there? He seemed to be asleep, unmoving. I bit my lip in indecision.
No, I wasnât going to do that. I was Lady Sierra of Red Coven. I was the heir, from a prominent bloodline. I was his mate, and he was rightâwe needed to break down barriers if this was going to work.
I squared my shoulders and went over to a drawer. I quietly pulled out a shirt and changed out of my dirty clothes, tossing them into the hamper with his pants. I paused, glancing at him. He might be lying there naked.
I blushed at the thought. He was on his stomach, the sheet covering most of his lower half. I slipped on the shirt, deciding to be bold and not put anything else on.
I climbed into bed, careful not to wake him. I wasnât tired yet, but I was adjusting my schedule to match his. I studied his face, relaxed in sleep. There was no trace of the earlier hurt.
I couldnât resist reaching out to lightly brush my fingers across his face. I shivered at the contact. He made a slight sound and opened his eyes. They were black, and he looked at me with tired eyes.
âIâm too tired to move if thatâs what you want,â he slurred.
I moved closer, facing him. âNo, I donât want that. I want to be here, with you. Itâs always what I wanted,â I told him.
He opened his eyes to look at me again. âReally?â He sounded skeptical.
âYes. Can we talk in the morning?â I asked softly, enjoying the calm.
âYou sure, Sierra? Iâm not in the mood for whiplash,â he said, his eyes closing again as he fought off sleep.
âYes, Harper,â I said firmly. âThis is where I want to be.â
He was silent for a moment, and I thought he might have fallen back asleep. Then he took a deep breath.
âTurn over,â he instructed.
I frowned, unsure why he wanted me to turn away from him. It felt strange, as if he didnât want me to look at him. But when I did as he asked, he surprised me by wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close.
His face was near my neck, his breath warm in my hair. He inhaled deeply. âI prefer this too,â he murmured.
I couldnât help but smile as he pulled me closer. His simple embrace gave me butterflies. I liked it. I liked that he just held me and didnât do anything else.
I was more tired and comfortable than Iâd realized, because I fell asleep almost as quickly as he did. I felt safe here in bed with him. To me, that meant more than any gift in the world.