A lingering heat settled on my lower back, a subtle warmth left by Derick's gentle guidance as we moved towards the parking lot, his Beta faithfully leading the way. The air around the venue buzzed with the presence of countless families and mated pairs, and as we passed, a hush fell, heads turning our way. I wasn't sure if the scrutiny was for me, the Alpha's Daughter, or for Derick and his mask. Whatever the reason, I kept my gaze fixed downwards, the unwelcome attention prickling my skin and making me feel unnervingly exposed. A quick glance up at Derick, who seemed utterly unfazed, brought a wave of relief.
"Here we are," Matt announced, gesturing towards a particularly forlorn sight. My gaze followed his, and I felt a sudden tension radiate from Derick. In the designated parking spot sat a battered blue car, its paint marred by rust stains, looking as though it were barely clinging to life. His pack must be struggling, but that thought barely registered. As long as Derick stood beside me, I felt a fierce desire to help him through anything.
I reached for the car door, but Matt straightened abruptly, a nervous laugh escaping him. "Haha, just kidding!" he exclaimed, his eyes flitting between me and Derick. I sensed a complex mix of emotions from Derick – anger, perhaps embarrassment, it was difficult to pinpoint.
Turning back to Matt, I met his gaze with a questioning tilt of my head. "Is this not your car?" I asked, looking from him to Derick. It felt as though a silent conversation, a mind-link, was unfolding between them. Was Derick embarrassed by the car? Was he afraid I wouldn't accept him because of it?
Derick gave a small cough, his eyes flicking to mine. "Just my beta playing a joke," he said, his voice a little strained. He then fixed Matt with a stern look. "Right, Beta?"
"Of course," Matt chimed in immediately, already pulling out his phone. "We have a driver, he's just running a little behind. Let me just ring him." He then practically bolted into the parking lot, his phone conversation a rapid-fire affair.
My gut feeling told me there was no driver. Derick, I suspected, was trying to hide his lack of funds. But the idea of him shelling out for a car right now, when I knew how tight things were, and on a day when it would cost a fortune, felt wrong.
I turned fully back to Derick, clasping both his hands in mine. He looked surprised, but he held onto them. "Honestly, this car is fine," I said, trying to convey my sincerity. "Getting a driver out here right now, on a day like this, would be a real challenge."
Derick gripped my hands, his voice soft. "It really is no issue," he began, but I cut him off. "The longer we wait for a driver, the less time we'll have before the ball tonight," I explained, trying to reassure him once more. He was silent for a moment, and I assumed he was considering my words. Finally, he let out a quiet sigh and nodded.
"My lodging isn't far from here," Derick said, his tone gentle, "and I promise to have a much better ride for the ball." With that, he turned to open the car door. Matt reappeared instantly, phone already pocketed, and slid into the driver's seat.
Derick held the door open for me, gesturing me in. I felt a faint blush creep up my neck as he bent down to carefully gather my dress, helping me ease into the car. Every attentive gesture he made seemed to quicken my heartbeat. Once I was settled, Derick reached down and gently smoothed out my gown. I wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary, especially considering the state of my dress, but I held my tongue and let him be.
Derick reached across me, and the proximity sent a flush creeping up my neck, his chest a breath away. His scent was potent, stirring a deep, contented purr from my wolf. A traitorous warmth bloomed between my legs, an urge for release I had to forcefully quell. A sudden click of a seatbelt made me recoil, then Derick's head collided with the car's ceiling.
"Are you okay?" My earlier sensations vanished, replaced by a surge of worry for Derick. He was already out, a blur of motion as he exited the vehicle. But he bypassed my side, instead yanking open the driver's door.
"Out," Derick commanded Matt, who scrambled to unbuckle his belt and clamber out. Derick slid into the driver's seat and turned back to Matt. "Keys." Matt fumbled them from his pocket and tossed them over. With a decisive slam of the door, Derick started the engine, leaving Matt stranded.
"Um..." I managed, the word a shaky breath. "Is everything okay?" I asked again, my gaze fixed on the back of Derick's head, his hair pulled into a messy bun.
A dark blush crept up his neck, and my own face felt like it was about to ignite. "Yes... Just... uh," he began, then blurted out, "I smelled you." The quick confession sent a fresh wave of heat through me, and I instinctively buried my face in my hands, mortified. This was utterly new. Josh had pressed himself against me before, countless times, but all I'd felt was a sickening revulsion. Never desire. Never want. Yet, Derick's scent had been enough. Was this… normal?
"I'm sorry," I mumbled into my palms, the sting of embarrassment already pricking at my eyes. "This has never happened before," I tried to explain, my voice muffled.
A soft chuckle drifted from him. "Well, I hope not." I peeked through my fingers, watching him. "But I am glad you felt that way about me." His voice deepened, and an uncomfortable silence settled between us until the car finally eased to a stop in front of a house.
"You have your own home?" The question slipped out, laced with a genuine curiosity. It seemed peculiar for a pack facing financial hardship to possess a dwelling so far from their own territories.
"Just a rental," Derick offered with a casual shrug, already climbing out of the car.
The house itself was small, a simple one-story structure with a white door and charming little planters beneath the window. A cheerful line of flowers led the way up the sidewalk to the entrance. I had anticipated a hotel, the typical lodging for visitors attending the Ceremony.
Derick reached my door before I could even attempt to open it, swinging it wide. Just as I was about to step out, he reached in, lifting me into his arms in a bridal carry. My head settled against his chest, a fresh wave of blush washing over my face as I nuzzled into his embrace.
Derick opened the door, his arms a steady cradle as he carried me inside. He set me down on the couch, a surprisingly gentle movement. Before I could even formulate a word, he was already bending, his focus shifting to my feet. He tugged at the hem of my dress, and I felt a flush creep up my neck at my sneakers, decidedly *not* the heels he seemed to anticipate, were revealed. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he met my gaze. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as his fingers worked the laces, slipping the shoes off with an almost hesitant efficiency.
"You… you really don't have to do that for me," I managed, the words feeling a bit small and unsure. I was still trying to piece together why he was being so attentive, so… careful. Derick offered no verbal reply, simply placing my sneakers neatly to the side before straightening up.
Now standing, his full height cast a shadow that made me feel even smaller on the plush cushions. I watched him, really watched him, and noticed the subtle shift in his posture. His hands, I realized, were working in a quiet, nervous rhythm – flexing in and out of loose fists, a silent tell of something unsettled beneath the surface.
"Cassy," his voice was a soft caress, a sound so gentle it sent a tremor through me. My gaze snapped up, meeting the unwavering, determined depths of his eyes. A frantic flutter erupted in my stomach, a chaotic dance of apprehension. *Would he claim me now? Finally reveal himself? Or worse... reject me outright?* The thought was a cold dread, a tightening in my chest.
I swallowed, forcing down the churning unease that threatened to betray me. With a shaky, yet hopefully convincing, smile, I managed, "Yes, Derick?" The words felt fragile, barely escaping my lips. I watched, my heart hammering against my ribs, as he let out a drawn-out sigh and began to pace, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us.
"Cassy," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through me. He stopped directly in front of me, the sudden proximity making my breath catch. My gaze flickered to his hands as they moved to the back of his head, fumbling with the clasps of the mask. A silent, desperate resolve solidified within me: no matter what lay beneath, I would not react. A burn, a disfiguring scar, or even a face utterly lacking in conventional attractiveness – I would meet it all with an impassive facade. He was my mate, and I refused to taint the beginning of our bond with the slightest hint of disrespect.
Then, with a deliberate slowness, Derick removed the mask. He set the intricate piece of craftsmanship onto the counter behind him and turned to face me fully. My carefully constructed composure, my silent vow, dissolved into nothingness the very instant his face was revealed. My jaw slackened, my mouth falling open in a silent, astonished gasp. Before me stood not some disfigured stranger, a fate I had braced myself for, but something infinitely more disarming: the one and only Crown Prince Derick Silvermoon. The man who had, until this very moment, remained a distant, almost mythical figure, was now impossibly real, his features etched not with the expected imperfections, but with a regal handsomeness that stole my breath and rattled my very soul.