8. Marina

8

MARINA

M arina tried to keep her expression amiable as she pushed open Alfie's former bedroom door. "I hope you'll be comfortable here," she said, stepping aside to let Catrina enter.

The tension radiating from Peter behind them was palpable. Something had happened during their drive from the airport—something that had put that tight, controlled expression on his handsome face.

What had his mother said about her?

"It's nice," Catrina said, scrunching her nose as if she smelled something foul.

Marina tried to ignore that.

After Lusha's comment about harsh cleaning product smells, she'd opened the window and aired the room. If Catrina still had a problem with that, well, too bad .

"The bathroom is through here," Marina said, proud that her voice was remaining steady. "Fresh towels are in the tall cabinet next to the vanity."

Catrina nodded, then turned to her son. "Can you bring my luggage in?"

As Peter moved to comply, his mother's attention shifted back to Marina. "I think I'll unpack and shower. Will you need help setting up for dinner?"

The offer caught Marina completely off guard. "I...thank you, but I have everything under control."

"Are you sure? It's no trouble."

Was this some kind of test? And if it was, what was the required answer?

"I'm sure," she said. "Please, make yourself comfortable. You must be tired after such a long flight."

Catrina smiled indulgently. "I flew first class and had a lie-flat seat. I slept my standard four hours, and I'm good to go. I'll just shower and put on a fresh outfit for dinner. After all, I'm about to meet my in-laws. I want to look presentable." She gave Marina a subtle once-over, her gaze stopping for a moment on the piercing in her left brow.

The female was a master at acting polite and friendly while delivering dozens of subtle but perfectly aimed paper cuts.

"Very well." Marina forced a smile. "I'll leave you to it. I need to run to meet my parents and my best friend at the parking garage. "

"How exciting," Catrina drawled. "I can't wait to meet them."

The moment Marina closed the bedroom door behind her, she shook her head and let out a breath. "I'm going to meet my family," she told Peter. "They should be arriving any minute now."

His expression was apologetic as he touched her cheek. "I'm sorry about?—"

"We'll talk about it later," she cut him off. "I really need to run. Do you want to come with me?"

"I wish I could, but I need to stay in case my mother needs anything. I can't just leave her alone. Not yet."

"Of course." She cast him a weak smile and practically fled the house, grateful for the excuse to escape.

The afternoon sun was warm on her face as she hurried toward the glass pavilion, and being out of the house was a relief.

Her heart lifted at the thought of seeing her parents, but mostly Larissa. Her best friend would know how to handle a situation like this. Larissa had life smarts that many didn't, and she saw through the facades and walls that people put up.

When Marina reached the garage level, they weren't there yet, so she waited a few minutes for the car to arrive.

As soon as the Guardian driving the vehicle parked it, Marina rushed forward to greet them. Her mother emerged first, and Marina threw herself into her arms with more enthusiasm than she'd shown since she was a child.

"Sweetheart!" Her mother hugged her tight. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Marina said quickly—too quickly.

Her father was next, wrapping them both in a bear hug. "There's my girl!"

Larissa emerged last, raising an eyebrow at Marina's unusual display of affection. "Okay, spill it. You've never been this happy to see any of us before. What's going on?"

Marina pulled back from her parents, trying to smile. "Can't I just be excited to see my family?"

"Please." Larissa crossed her arms. "I know that look. Something's up."

Marina glanced around, but other than the Guardian, who was busy with their luggage, they were alone in the parking area. "Peter's mother is here."

"Ah." Her mother's expression turned knowing. "And she's making things difficult?"

"Well, not really. She just arrived, and she hasn't said anything offensive, but she's giving off those subtle hints that are all aimed to show how unworthy I am of her son." Marina wrapped her arms around herself. "I hate how tense it is with her in the house."

"What's her problem?" her father asked.

Marina let out a bitter laugh. "What isn't her problem? I'm not immortal. I didn't go to college. And I'm not royalty. Take your pick."

"Hey." Larissa threaded her arm through hers. "You're amazing, and Peter knows it. Who cares what his mother thinks?"

"Peter cares," Marina said. "And I care that he cares. He looked so upset when they arrived—I don't even want to know what she said to him on the drive here."

Her mother's face hardened. "She has no right to make you feel less than worthy in your own home."

"I wish that was true." Marina blinked back tears. "I'm going to age and die while Peter stays young forever. Any children we have will be human. She's just saying what everyone else is thinking."

"Stop it." Larissa tugged on her arm. "Peter chose you. The clan accepted you. And your aging has slowed down." She tilted her head to look up at Marina. "I need to find me an immortal boyfriend. Any candidates that you can think of?"

Marina laughed. "You know the selection. You saw them on the cruise."

"It's all a blur now. I had my heart set on you know who, and I didn't pay attention to the others."

"What about all the Guardians who served in Safe Haven?" Marina asked .

Larissa shrugged. "They were all good-looking, but none stood out."

"Well, you can browse during the wedding," Marina said.

"Classic possessive mother syndrome," her father murmured under his breath. "She's worried about you taking her place as the most important woman in her son's life. Some women are like that."

"Dad..." Marina hadn't expected such insight from her father.

"He's right," her mother said. "And the immortal thing is just an excuse. If you were immortal, she'd find something else to object to."

"That's..." Marina considered this, "actually very possible."

Larissa nudged her. "Stop doubting yourself. You're about to marry the man you love, who happens to be smart and hot and totally devoted to you. Focus on that."

"And remember," her father added, "you have us in your corner. Always, no matter what."

As Marina led them toward the guest house, she felt some of her anxiety ease. Her father's insight about Catrina's true motivations had helped put things in perspective. And Larissa was right—she needed to focus on her relationship with Peter, not his mother's approval or disapproval of her.