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I shove those thoughts aside as I head down the hallway toward the great room. Everyone has gathered there to find out what the plan is for today, and I’m already wishing the day was over. Scratch that; I wish that this wholeweekwas over. I should probably do a one-on-one date today, and I know right away who it will be with.
Malia and Ren are the only ones of interest amongst the eight girls. Ren doesn’t seem interested in me at all, and the feeling is mutual, but Malia… as always, she remains a mystery. She has my wolf calming and me excited for the first time in a long time.
My eyes find her right away. She’s standing with Ren a little bit away from the crowd. They’re whispering to each other, both smiling and giggling, and I can’t help but smile when I see her so happy.
A few rays of golden sunlight stream through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the great room, tangling in her white-blonde hair. She glows, her smile as radiant as the sunlight highlighting her curves.
“Attention!” George calls out. Silence falls on the group.
“Hello, everyone!” I call out, raising my voice so that everyone can hear me. “Today will be a single date between Malia and myself,” I announce. “George has set up other activities to be done around the castle, or you’re free to explore on your own.”
A soft murmur starts, and I glance over at Malia. She doesn’t seem that surprised that I picked her for the date, and she gives me a small smile before she turns to say something to Ren.
“So, where are you taking me on our date?” Malia asks me as I walk over to her side.
“I thought I could show you around the grounds,” I say. She smiles, slipping her arm through mine. Something about this feels perfect, like she fits, right here at my side.
“Lead the way,” she says with a playful lilt to her voice. Just being next to her has the stress and tension of the week fading into the background.
We head out of the great room and down the hallway to a side door. My phone buzzes as we head outside, and I apologize as I pull my phone out of my pocket.
It’s Romer. I quickly read the text.
Romer:Snow finally stopped but it will probably be another day before the roads are cleared. I should be there Thursday in time for dinner.
Ryker:Just shift. You would have been here by now.
Romer:No shit. Didn’t want to scare your village and cause problems for you. Any luck finding your mate?
Ryker:No. She’s not here.
Romer:Bummer, man.
Ryker:Maybe your mate will be here.
Romer:Doubt it. See you soon.
I tuckmy phone back into my pocket and turn to Malia to apologize, but she’s wandered a few feet away and is staring excitedly at the rose garden. I take a moment to study her silhouette, drinking in her cute little nose, round cheeks, and brilliant smile. She’s so soft, pretty, and precious.
I’d want her as my mate even if fate didn’t play a hand in it.
The thought slams into me like a runaway train, nearly knocking the wind out of me. I have no idea what to do with that, so I shove it aside, like I’ve had to do all week.
“You like the flowers?” I ask as I join her. I’m still a little shaken by my revelation, but I won’t let it ruin our one-on-one time.
“Yeah, it’s a beautiful garden. Ren and I bounced around group homes in New Mexico, and all that grew there were weeds,” she tells me as we walk along the edge of the garden.
“Group home?” I ask. She looks away, her shoulders curling in as if she’s ashamed of something. “What’s that?”
Green eyes peer up at me, and I’m struck with the vulnerability I see in them. This is important to her, which means it’s important to me. I stop walking, turning her to face me.
“Do you have a foster care system here? For orphans or kids given up for adoption?” I nod, not liking where this is going. “A group home is part of the foster system, but it’s more…” She sighs, looking down at her feet. “A lot of times, kids who have behavioral issues or need special attention end up in group homes. Or, in my case, my social worker couldn’t find a home to place me in, so I was shipped off to the nearest group home with an open bed.”
“Malia,” I whisper, tipping her chin up. A tear threatens to fall down her porcelain cheek, and I catch it on my thumb, hating the fact that she’s crying.
“It’s whatever,” she says dismissively. “I never knew my parents, so it’s not like I miss them.” My heart breaks for this precious woman and all she’s been through. She’s trying to be tough, but I see right through her. “Apparently I was found on the steps of a fire station when I was a week old. The firefighters took me to the police station, and the rest… is history.”
She shrugs, trying to play it off, but I’m not fooled. There’s a deep pain there, and suddenly the only thing I want to do is wrap her up in my arms and tell her she belongs right here with me. I can’t though, can I?
