Page 27

I could barely feel my legs as we made our way back toward the house. Aldaine's hand in mine was the only thing keeping me tethered to earth, the warmth of his palm a constant reminder that what had just happened under the oak tree wasn't some fevered dream.

We walked in comfortable silence, both of us seemingly lost in our own thoughts.

I kept stealing glances at him, marveling at the shift I saw there.

The tension that had been a constant thing in his posture had eased.

He looked peaceful. When he caught me looking, the corner of his mouth would lift in a private smile that sent heat rushing through my body all over again.

My free hand kept drifting up to the mark on my neck, fingertips tracing the indentations his teeth had left.

Each time I touched it, a pleasant shiver ran through me, an echo of the overwhelming sensation when he'd first bitten me.

It should have hurt. It should have terrified me.

Instead, it felt like completion, like something I'd been waiting for my entire life without knowing it.

"Does it hurt?" Aldaine asked softly, his eyes following the movement of my hand.

I shook my head. "No. It feels right." The words sounded ridiculous to my own ears, but they were true. "I can't explain it."

His expression softened. "I can," his voice low and intimate. "And I will. Later."

There was a weight to his words that suggested whatever explanation was coming would be significant. I nodded, content for now to exist in this bubble of aftermath, where the world consisted only of us and the way our bodies had joined so perfectly beneath the ancient oak.

My legs still trembled slightly from the intensity of what we'd shared.

Not just the physical release, though that had been unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

No, it was what had happened when his teeth broke my skin, that flash of white-hot connection, the sense of something ancient and powerful locking into place between us.

As we neared the house, reality began to intrude.

I became suddenly, acutely aware of my appearance with my dress rumpled, hair wild from Aldaine's fingers, the unmistakable evidence of what we'd done visible in my flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

And most tellingly, the vivid bite mark on my neck, which I had no hope of hiding without assistance.

"We should probably," I gestured vaguely at myself, heat rising in my cheeks.

Aldaine's eyes darkened as they swept over me, appreciation evident in his gaze. "You look perfect to me," he murmured, voice pitched low enough to send another shiver racing down my spine. "But perhaps not for public consumption. "

We slipped in through a side entrance, thankfully encountering no one as we made our way back to our room. Once inside with the door safely closed behind us, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and gasped.

"Oh my god." The woman staring back at me was a strange.

Wild-eyed, mouth swollen from Aldaine's kisses, skin glowing that I hardly recognized.

And there, stark against the pale column of my throat, was his mark, a perfect crescent of teeth impressions, the skin around it already darkening to purple.

Aldaine appeared behind me in the mirror, his eyes meeting mine in our reflection. The possessive heat in his gaze as he looked at the mark sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through me.

"You're magnificent," his hands coming to rest on my hips.

I leaned back against him, savoring the solid warmth of his chest against my back. "I look thoroughly fucked," I countered, though I couldn't keep the smile from my voice.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear. "Yes," he agreed, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. "You do."

I turned in his arms, rising on tiptoe to press a light kiss to his mouth. "Smug isn't a good look on you," I lied. In truth, the satisfied glint in his eyes was devastatingly attractive.

He caught my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently before releasing it. "Liar."

We stood there for a long moment, foreheads touching, breathing each other's air. I felt drunk on his nearness, on the strange new bond humming between us.

"I should clean up," I murmured eventually, reluctant to break the bubble of intimacy but aware that we couldn't stay locked in our room forever.

Aldaine nodded, releasing me with obvious reluctance. "I'll do the same. "

I headed for the bathroom, conscious of his eyes tracking my every movement.

Under the warm spray of the shower, I let my fingers explore the mark he'd left, the sensation sending echoes of pleasure through me.

It wasn't just the physical evidence of our passion that moved me, it was the commitment behind it.

Something in me recognized the significance of what he'd done, even if my conscious mind didn't yet understand what it meant.

By the time I emerged, wrapped in a fluffy towel, Aldaine had already showered in the bathroom across the way in an empty room and changed into fresh clothes.

The sight of him in crisp dark jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms momentarily robbed me of breath.

"You look," I trailed off, unable to find words to express how he affected me.

His slow smile showed he understood perfectly. "So do you."

I dressed simply in a flowing skirt and soft sweater, but paused when it came to my neck. The mark was too vivid, too unmistakably what it was, to leave exposed among family.

"I need something to cover this," I gestured at my neck with a shy smile.

Aldaine's expression darkened briefly, and I could read the conflict there, pride in his mark warring with practicality.

"Here," finally, he reluctantly pulled a silk scarf from my suitcase.

The deep brown color complemented my sweater perfectly as he arranged it around my neck with careful fingers.

His knuckles brushed against the mark as he adjusted the fabric, sending a spark of awareness through me. Our eyes met, and for a heartbeat, I thought we might end up back in bed. Then a sharp knock at the door broke the moment.

We both jumped slightly, then exchanged sheepish smiles at our reaction. Aldaine moved to answer while I made a final adjustment to the scarf, ensuring the mark was completely covered.

A young man in the estate's staff uniform stood in the hallway. "Miss Thompson? Mr. and Mrs. Thompson request your presence in the library as soon as possible. Your companion is welcome as well," he added with a polite nod toward Aldaine.

Something in his tone set off alarm bells. This wasn't a casual summons to tea.

"Did they say what this is about?" Anxiety began to curl in my stomach.

The young man shook his head. "No, miss. Just that it's important."

After he left, I turned to Aldaine, worry creasing my brow. "That's not normal. Dad and Jan don't usually do joint meetings unless something's wrong."

Aldaine's hand found mine, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against my palm. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together."

The simple promise steadied me more than I cared to admit. This was new territory, having someone firmly in my corner, ready to stand with me against whatever was coming. I squeezed his hand in silent thanks.

We had gone far beyond our contract.

The walk to the library felt both too short and interminable. My mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. Had Stephany complained about me? Had someone seen Aldaine and me in the garden? Was I about to be lectured on proper behavior while a guest in their home?

By the time we reached the heavy oak door of the library, my heart was pounding uncomfortably in my chest. Aldaine squeezed my hand once more before I knocked.

"Come in," my father's voice called from inside.

I pushed the door open, Aldaine a reassuring presence at my back as we stepped into the book-lined room. The library had always been my favorite place in the house, a sanctuary of sorts, but now it felt charged with an uncomfortable energy that made the hair on my arms stand up.

Dad and Jan stood near the massive stone fireplace where a small fire crackled, despite the mild day.

They turned as we entered, and I was immediately struck by how united they appeared, standing close together, a unified front.

But not, I realized with surprise, against me.

There was no hostility in their postures, no disapproval in their expressions.

Instead, they both looked nervous? Uncertain?

Especially Jan. I'd never seen her look quite so unsettled. She was fidgeting with her wedding ring, twisting it around her finger in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety. Her usual perfect composure was nowhere to be seen.

"Rosie," Dad stepped forward slightly before hugging me tightly. "Thank you for coming. And Aldaine," he added with a nod of acknowledgment.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, unable to keep the wariness from my voice. Too many years of experience had taught me to be on guard in situations like this.

Dad and Jan exchanged a look that I couldn't quite interpret. Then, to my complete shock, Jan stepped forward.

"Rosie," she began, and I was struck by how careful her voice sounded. Unsteady, even. Nothing like her usual confident tone. "I owe you an apology. A real one."

I blinked, certain I must have misheard. Jan had never apologized to me for anything in all the years I'd known her. She'd never even acknowledged that there might be something to apologize for.

She took a deep breath, her hands still working restlessly at her wedding ring. "For years, I let Stephany set the tone. I let her jealousy, her spite, shape how I treated you. Because it was easier to side with her than admit my mistakes. Easier to believe you were the problem, not her. "

I stood frozen, hardly daring to breathe, waiting for the other shoe to drop. This couldn't be real. Jan didn't show emotional honesty. She didn't do vulnerability. And she certainly didn't admit failure. Yet here she was, her voice growing increasingly unsteady as she continued.

"But this week, seeing the way she treated you, the way she treated everyone," She shook her head, something like shame crossing her features. "I see it clearly now. And I'm sorry. For all of it."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and I was stunned to see the glint of tears in her eyes. This was not the Jan I knew. Not the polished, perfect woman who had never shown a genuine emotion in all the time I'd known her.

I felt Aldaine's hand at the small of my back, a silent reminder of his presence, his support. I needed it. My legs felt unsteady beneath me as I tried to process what was happening.

Part of me wanted to be suspicious. To look for the trap, the hidden agenda. But as I searched Jan's face, all I could see was raw, genuine emotion. This wasn't a performance. It wasn't a manipulation.

It was real.

"It doesn't erase everything," I admitted finally, my voice quiet but steady. "But..it matters. More than you know."

I was surprised to feel tears pricking at my own eyes. How long had I waited for some acknowledgment from her? Some recognition that the favoritism, the coldness, the subtle cruelties hadn't been my imagination? I'd given up hope of ever hearing anything like this years ago.

Dad stepped closer then, wrapping an arm around Jan's shoulders. His eyes, when they met mine, held a warmth and regret I hadn't seen in a while..

"It's time we act like the family you deserve, not the one you grew up with," he voiced simply.

The words landed like physical blows. I'd spent so many years convincing myself I didn't care what they thought, didn't need their approval or love. That I was fine on my own. The lie of it all crashed down around me as tears spilled over onto my cheeks.

Dad continued, his voice gentle but firm. "Whatever happens next, Rosie, you're not alone. Not anymore."