It's Never Easy

Chapter 11 - Astor

Arianne and I stay in bed all day and it's glorious. And that's not even because we spend the entire day making out. Although the kisses we do share are incredible. It's because I get to spend the entire day with her, my mate.

I make us breakfast, because my wolf is eager to prove we can provide with her. She looks at the waffles, bacon and maple syrup plate I make for her skeptically, apparently it's not what English people typically have for breakfast. She takes one bite and breaks out in a smile though.

We eat in bed, while watching Friends. Which is the only TV show she will rewatch over and over again and I admit to her that I've never watched it and she's adorably outraged and so I try to pay attention but I can't take my eyes of her and the joy in her eyes as she mouths along to every word and laughs at jokes she's heard a hundred times.

It feels domestic. Normal. Like I could do this every day with her and never get bored. Like it would always feel sacred.

I pushed her yesterday, talking about wanting to be in her mind, to see if there was any flicker of recognition. I was dying for her to acknowledge, in anyway, the bond we shared. But I quickly got over it when she decided to share with me her trauma.

In the back of my mind there was this gnawing guilt because she was starting to trust me but I hadn't told her everything about me. I had every intention to tell her this morning, but then she'd unburdened herself, telling me everything that had happened to her. And it hadn't felt right to tell her something when she was so emotionally vulnerable. She'd been shaking in my arms for godssake, I couldn't unload something like that on her.

But she needed to know, because it would be a big part of her life too.

While she's having a shower that evening I called my Dad to talk things through. As my Dad and my Alpha, he'll be able to give me the best advice. He picked up on the first ring.

"Son, I've been meaning to call you." His tone is clipped, suggesting he's using a lot of effort to reign in his wolf and immediately my wolf is on edge

"Everything okay?" I ask, cautiously.

"Americans," He spat with disgust. "There's a small army amassing on Quebec's south-eastern border."

"Foolish, greedy bastards." I mutter. We always had issues with our southern neighbours, they were never satisfied, always wanted more and didn't care what or who they destroyed to get it.

"I may need you home Son." I couldn't help the growl that tore from the throat. Alpha or not he would have to come to Oxford and tear me away from Arianne himself. "Calm yourself son. I didn't say you have to get on the next flight home. I can squash this small confrontation no problem. But if it's the start of something bigger, a rebellion, a civil war - I will need you home."

"Understood." I said reluctantly.

"How is your mate? I assume she's the reason you called."

"She's incredible. She's strong and beautiful and smart and she's been through so much. But she knows nothing of our world, she feels our connection but she doesn't understand it."

"You need to tell her."

"I know. The only reason I haven't is because of her father."

"Explain." I realised I'd been so pre-occupied with Arianne I hadn't told him about the other wolf I was living with and his warning that her father didn't want her to know about wolves. My wolf growled at the thought, he was not happy that other wolves were keeping his mate from knowing about him. "Talk to her father," He said once I'd explained everything. "Find out his reasons but be respectful, you don't want to get off on the wrong foot with your in-laws. Regardless of what he says though, you need to tell her soon before you lose control of your wolf, he won't stand for being kept from his mate for much longer. While it would be ideal for you to respect her father's wishes it's not practical. You're a future alpha, don't let him push you around. Your wolf needs his mate and the pack needs their future Luna. Just-" My Mum snatched the phone off him before he could finish.

"You said you were going to call every day." She said accusingly. By the time I finally managed to get my Mum off the phone, Arianne was out of the shower, and I could hear her humming in the kitchen. I made my way out to her and when I walked in, I stopped short. She was there, dancing in the kitchen in these little shorts, and one of my sweatshirts. My wolf preened as if he had claimed her himself, by wearing our jumper, she would be coated in our scent, and every male would know she was ours.

"You know I left that on the sofa because it needed to be washed, doesn't it smell?" She spun around at the sound of my voice, quickly looking down at what she was wearing.

"Oh my god." She flushed bright red in embarrassment. "I though it was one of Dion's, he always leaves his clothes lying around..." Her hands went to the hem to take it off but I quickly interjected.

"No, keep it. It looks better on you." Her hands stalled and she seemed frozen for a moment. Thoughts raced through her mind, I could hear them loud and clear, she was questioning whether we were moving too fast, wondering why my shirt smelled so good, hoping the scent would cling to her skin, shocked that that thought had popped up, wondering where it had come from. "What are you making?" I asked, trying to pull her out of her thoughts.

"Just some friend rice."

"So I can add chef to the the already long list of reasons I am fascinated by you."

"Oh yeah, I'm a ready made housewife. Spread the word." She jokes. Spread the word? So other men will see how great she is?

"You know, I don't think I will." She looked up at me, her brows pinched adorably. What a weird thing to say - her thoughts reach me. I smile down at her. "I want to keep you all to myself." I kept my voice light and teasing, and gave her a quick wink to take the edge of the possessiveness of my words. She blushes and turns back to the stove. I want to go up behind her and wrap my arms around her, bury my face in her neck, but I knew today had been a lot for her, and she needed to take it slow still. So I sat at the table and watched her move around the kitchen, revelling in the domestic bliss.