Page 73 of Clashing With The Grumpy Wolf

A small smile plays at the corners of her mouth as she raises her coffee to her lips.

"Must be."

I can't resist leaning down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, savoring the taste of coffee on her tongue. When I pull back, her eyes are half-closed, that small smile widened into something that tears my heart to shreds.

"You're very possessive in the morning," she observes, raising an eyebrow. "Should I expect this every day now?"

"Every morning, every night, and most moments in between," I confirm, not bothering to hide my wolf's satisfaction at having her here, in my space, wearing my clothes, carrying my mark.

Julia laughs, the sound soothing something in my soul that I didn’t even know needed soothing.

"I'll have to adjust my schedule to accommodate all this possessiveness."

I'm about to reply when a sharp, distinct knock sounds at my front door. Three firm raps,evenly spaced.

I groan. There is only one person in the world who knocks on a wolf’s door that way, that early in the morning. Meredith Wolfsbane.

Julia turns toward the door. "Are you expecting someone?"

"I’m not, but I know that knock," I say, setting the mug down on the counter. "It’s my mother."

Understanding dawns in Julia's eyes. She glances down at her state of undress, then back at me.

"I should probably go put some clothes on. Make myself scarce for a bit?"

"No." The word comes out more forcefully than I intended. I take her hand, running my thumb over her knuckles. "You are my mate. You have every right to be here. This is your home now. You don't need to hide."

Julia squares her shoulders and nods, though I can sense her nervousness in the slight quickening of her pulse. The knock comes again, more insistent this time.

I cross to the door, Julia trailing slightly behind me. Taking a deep breath, I swing it open to find my mother standing on my front porch, impeccably dressed as always in pressed slacks and a dove-gray blouse despite the early hour. Her silver-streaked hair is pulled back in a neat bun, not a strand out of place.

Her expression betrays nothing as her gaze flicks from me to Julia, then back again, but I can smell her displeasure, the sharp and astringent stench beneath her usual scent of lavender and cedar.

"Good morning, Adrian," she says, her voice perfectly even. "We had a Council meeting scheduled this morning. I was concerned when you didn’t show up."

Shit. The monthly Pack Council meeting. With everything that happened yesterday, the fire at Windfall Manor, bringing Julia here, our mating, it completely slipped my mind.

"I apologize," I say, stepping back to allow her entry. "I should have called."

My mother steps inside, her posture rigid with disapproval. Her eyes scan the cabin, taking in the evidence of our night together, discarded clothing on the floor, tangled blanket on the couch, two coffee mugs on the counter.

"I see you've been otherwise occupied," she says, her gaze settling on Julia, who stands barefoot in my kitchen wearing nothing but my shirt.

Julia steps forward, extending her hand with remarkable poise considering the circumstances.

"Good morning, Mrs. Wolfsbane. May I offer you a cup of coffee?"

My mother hesitates just long enough for me to notice before shaking Julia's hand for a brief moment. Just enough not to be insulting.

"That won’t be necessary, Julia. I won’t be staying long."

Julia withdraws her hand and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I should probably get dressed," she says, glancing between us. "I'll give you two some privacy."

"That won't be necessary," my mother says, her voice suddenly sharp. "If I'm going to speak plainly, you should hear it too."

Julia freezes, caught between the kitchen and the hallway leading to my bedroom. I move to stand beside her, my hand finding the small of her back in silent support.