Page 11 of Bond To The Alpha (Fated Bond #1)

KANE

I stop with one foot over the threshold to allow myself a moment to devour the scene I’ve just walked into.

It’s her world, which I’ve not been a part of for years.

It's smaller than I'd imagined while someone from Sam’s house was leading me here, but it’s alive in a way that takes my breath away. There’s a din of laughter and banter in the room, which feels delightful to see; aromas of spiced meat, fresh bread, whatnots, and something that’s uniquely Liana .

A couple brushes past me where I’m standing, tossing a wordless apology my way as they leave. I return the gesture with a friendly smile before turning to finally go in.

There she is.

Confident. Radiant. At home in her own skin in a way I've never seen before.

Her dark hair is swept back in a practical braid, her green eyes alight with warmth as she approaches the man she’s talking to with a frothy mug balanced in her hand.

At first, I’m not really paying attention to anything but her, but then I see that something she says makes the man throw back his head and laugh. Now I wonder what they’re actually talking about…jealously.

“…hasn't said two words to me since I forgot our anniversary last month.”

“How about I bake you a strawberry pie to take home? She’s mentioned to me once that it’s her favorite,” Liana shrugs, picking up the empty mug that was initially in front of him.

“On the house?”

“On the house,” Liana playfully spikes up her brows at him and then he winks at her with a thumbs up, a gesture which I only realize seconds later has put a faint frown on my forehead.

Of course, it disappears the second she turns around and locks eyes with me. But it’s the smile on her face that fades this time around, which is kind of disappointing.

Heads also turn, and conversations pause mid-sentence. I see curious eyes turning to me when I fully step into the room. It almost makes me feel like an intruder disrupting its natural rhythm in this cozy world. But just as quickly as it stopped, the hubbub resumes. There are still a few patrons fixing me with interested stares, but most return to their meals and conversations.

Professionalism suddenly personified, Liana comes to meet me.

"Please follow me.”

She doesn't wait for a response, already pivoting around and heading for a narrow staircase in the corner.

I follow behind her… and her scent, which I can't help smiling at as we climb up the creaky wooden stairs. And my pathetically love-struck self can’t hold back from placing my hand on the banister exactly where hers has touched.

The upstairs hallway is narrow, its walls worn to a faded sheen with wallpaper; dim sconces glow above the several doors lining both sides—most closed.

Except one of the doors which stands slightly ajar. I briefly spot the same weekender bag Liana had with her earlier hanging on a rack inside before she pulls it shut and continues to lead me down to the very end of the corridor like nothing.

We stop at the last door.

Of course, she'd put me as far away as possible.

She pushes a key into the lock, twisting it with perhaps more force than necessary.

"Here you are," she says, sweeping a hand towards the open door.

It’s a modest but clean room. A twin bed, a small dresser, and a chair by the window. It's sparse, but it'll do.

"Thanks, Liana," I say, trying to infuse warmth into my voice.

Her nod is all business regardless.

"You can hand in the key downstairs whenever you have to step out. Also, if you need anything, just let one of the staff know."

"I'll let you know when I need something," I throw in.

Liana's lips twitch into what might generously be called a smile.

"Of course. As long as it's necessary, I'll do my best to help."

She then takes a step back. "I'll leave you to it, then.” Walking away until she disappears down the stairs, and I'm left staring at the empty space.

After unpacking my meager belongings, I decide to head downstairs for a meal. The tavern is quieter now, the dinner rush having subsided. Only a handful of patrons are still here nursing their drinks and engaging in conversations.

I search for Liana with my eyes and am soon stopped by one of the young workers who asks with a friendly but tired-looking smile,

"What can I get for you, sir?"

"What's good tonight?" I ask, still glancing around, hoping Liana might appear.

"We've got a great beef stew. But if you're looking for something lighter, I can whip up a chicken sandwich."

I nod, settling for the stew.

"Is she around?" I quietly ask before the girl can head back in.

I really don’t want to resort to being too obvious about anything, which I’m aware is the last thing Liana would want. I just can’t help it, however.

“You mean my boss?” she asks.

“Yes, her…” I clarify.

"Oh, she stepped out for a bit. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, it's fine. Also, the stew will be great, thanks."

She gestures to an empty table. "Have a seat, please. I'll bring it out soon."

One man in particular keeps glancing my way where I’m seated, although I’m not sure if suspiciously . So I just try to ignore it by focusing instead on tracing the patterns on the tabletop with my fingertips as I await my meal. The stew arrives not long after, steaming and aromatic.

Halfway through my bowl, my heart does a quick leap, not from the extra spice—from Liana walking in. Just as I thought she would, Liana barely spares me a glance before disappearing behind the counter into what I assume is the back room.

Swallowing my pride (and a mouthful of stew), I call out, "Could I get a beer, please?" And I make sure my voice is loud enough to be heard from inside there.

Sure enough, Liana emerges with a frosty mug in hand.

She sets it down without ceremony in front of me, sliding a slip of paper beside it.

"Your tab," she says, already turning away.

A familiar smile tugs at my lips as I examine the bill, not even thinking before pulling out a pen from inside my jacket and twirling it between my fingers. This might be the way to start getting her attention again.

I think of what to write.

But now, my hand hesitates. I can’t write something playful or flirtatious. Back then and now are not the same. I need to rebuild trust before I can even think about rekindling romance.

This note needs to be encouraging rather than cheeky; sincere without being overbearing .

"You've built something really beautiful here."

I finally write, realizing it’s the best thing I can think of for a start.

"Thanks for the meal," I say when I reach the counter.

Handing her the money and the bill face down, I add. "It was delicious."

Liana takes the cash, her fingers brushing mine for the briefest moment, but she doesn't even blink. She neither glances at the bill nor gives any indication that she knows what I've done. Instead, with deliberate slowness and never breaking eye contact, she crumples the paper in her fist. The sound of crinkling paper seems impossibly loud in the quiet tavern. Then, still maintaining that unwavering gaze, she tosses it into the bin beside her and walks away.

My wolf recoils at the sight of that.

"You don't look like you're from around here,” comes a gruff voice behind me.

It’s the man who’s been staring at me earlier, now he’s even looking directly with an unreadable expression that obviously increases my wariness.

But he then breaks into a surprisingly warm smile.

"Yeah, I've been wondering the same thing," another patron chimes in from another corner.

“You've got sharp eyes," I say. "I'm not from around here. I'm actually a distant relative of Liana's, just in town for a visit." —The story Sam and I had agreed on earlier, just to avoid causing unneeded stirs in the pack.

The atmosphere immediately shifts to becoming more welcoming.

“Why didn't you say so earlier?" the first man says, gesturing for me to join them. "Pull up a chair, son. How are you enjoying your stay so far?"

"It's been great," I reply as I sit in a random chair.

"Seeing how well Liana's doing here... I'd say it's a pretty nice place to be."

The men nod in agreement, pride evident in their expressions.

"Although," I add, leaning in conspiratorially. "You know how Liana is. Likes to handle things on her own. She'd never tell me if anything was wrong. How's she really doing here?"

The older man lets out a hearty laugh. "Oh, she's a fine young lady, that one. Strong-minded as they come."

Another man nursing a whiskey adds, "Heard she was having a hard time in her old pack but look at her now. Doing so well for herself, her and her daughter both."

Daughter ?

“She has a daughter?”

A thousand thoughts and possibilities start to zip through my head in milliseconds.

Who's the father? Is the one question that however sticks out the most.

"Yeah, sweet kid, too. Liana's done a great job, especially considering she doesn't have a partner."

No partner…

I want to sigh in relief hearing that, but at the same time, I can’t. I’m still trying to ease out the confusion and conflictions in my head when the man who'd been watching earlier narrows his eyes.

"You're her distant relative but you didn't know she has a daughter?"

I force out a laugh, "Well, last time—“

Then my words trail off and I slowly turn, for some reason, to the foot of the stairs where a little girl with twin braids and a doll clutched around one arm is now standing. She stares directly at me with big and bright green eyes like Liana’s.