Happy Ever After

※ Chapter Four

Holy shit.

Two words that I could easily use to describe the pack house, or as it should've been more appropriately called: pack mansion.

When Jett had told me that I was going to be following him back to the pack house for safety reasons and because it was 'protocol', I had a visual of a modest two-storey, maybe three-storey, house with a nice backyard. Maybe a pool and a little barbecue area.

What I wasn't expecting was this massive house in front of me. It was a bloody mansion, not a house. It looked massive from the outside and I could only imagine what the interior looked like.

I gathered from the term 'pack house' that members of the pack lived there but were there literally that many people/werewolves in the pack that lived together, instead of living with their families and such?

Jett clears his throat, snapping me out of my reverie. I hadn't even noticed that I had stopped walking in order to gape at the exterior of the house. His lips quirk up into a small, charming smile, hand gesturing me forward and to keep moving.

"Come on," he says, amusement lacing his tone as he rests his hand on the small of my back. "It looks big and scary but it's a normal house instead, I swear," he assures me with an amused glint in his blueish-green eyes.

I really liked his eyes. I really did.

I liked his voice, too. It was so... hypnotising. Like, whenever he spoke, I just felt like I had to listen to what he had to say. He could've been talking about Kirchhoff's Laws and mind you, I hated electrical circuits, but I would want to listen to him speak as though he was retelling some interesting tale involving dinosaurs and dragons and whatever. It was like I fell into a trance whenever he spoke, which was really, really weird. A bit freaky, honestly.

Thankfully though, throughout the walk to the pack house, he hadn't spoken much. All he said was that it was for safety reasons and that he was following 'protocol' by bringing me back, and that was that.

I had glanced at him from the corner of my eye from time-to-time to see him open his mouth more than a few times, only to shut it back - as though he was itching to say something but was too nervous to do so. As a result of that, it was completely silent, apart from the sounds of twigs and leaves crunching and snapping under my shoes.

He did keep his hand placed at the small of my back, though. The whole way.

And the few times that I almost fell, tripping over hidden roots, - I'm a clumsy kid, okay? - he'd been right there, fast to wrap his arms around my waist and steady me back onto my feet before I face-planted the ground. There was always this dumb smirk plastered on his face afterwards, though, but I just rolled my eyes, mumbling a 'thanks' before carrying on my way.

I could've just read his mind to pass the time in the awkwardly silent walk but like I said, it was an intrusion of privacy and I didn't really fancy opening my mind up too often. It gave me migraines.

Plus. You'd be surprised at the amount of weird shit that you can hear from other people even though they were quite a distance away. I've heard things that I wish, every day, I could un-hear.

I followed behind him as he led the way into the house, down a hallways, probably bringing me into the room that was behind the wooden door with the brass doorknob at the end of said hallway.

While walking behind him, I shamelessly checked him out. The way his back muscles tensed when he walked, what with the few glistens of sweat on his skin almost made me shiver in delight. The way he carried himself was a whole other thing. He walked with confidence - back straight and head held up high, proudly - but he didn't seem at all cocky. He smiled at the people who were in the lounge, the kitchen, the wherever we walked past. If there were people and if they did the little bow of their heads, he just nodded back and smiled.