Chapter 15 - Wren

A week had passed since Articus showed Wren around White Moon, and she was still trying to process everything she'd seen and learned.

The sense of community, the support systems in place, the way everyone seemed to work together—it was so different from anything she'd ever known.

As a rogue, she'd always been on the outskirts, never truly belonging anywhere. But here, in this pack, she found herself longing for something she never thought she'd want: a home.

And then there is Articus himself.

She was curled up on the window seat in the guest room—her room, she supposed, for now—watching raindrops race down the glass. The soft patter of rain against the windowpane provided a soothing backdrop to her tumultuous thoughts.

Her fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on the cool glass as her mind drifted back to that day, to the warmth of Articus's hand in hers as they sat on that bench, to the way her heart raced when they danced.

The memory of his strong arms around her, guiding her through the steps, sent a shiver down her spine. She could still feel the heat of his body, smell his intoxicating scent—a mix of pine, earth, and something uniquely Articus.

For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to be held by him again, to feel his lips on hers...

But then reality crashed back in, and she remembered how he pulled away when they almost kissed in the marketplace. How careful he'd been to maintain a polite distance ever since.

The ache in her chest intensified as she wondered if she'd imagined the connection between them, if perhaps she was just another responsibility for the Alpha of White Moon.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her brooding. "Wren?" Articus's voice called from the other side, sending her heart into overdrive. "Are you ready?"

Right. Their... date? Was that what this was? Articus had suggested they go for a drive or maybe have a picnic if the weather cleared up.

She'd agreed, but now, faced with the reality of spending more one-on-one with him, she felt a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. What if she said the wrong thing? What if he realized how out of place she was here?

"Coming," she called back, forcing herself to stand on legs that suddenly felt weak. She gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror—jeans, a soft sweater, hair pulled back in a simple braid.

It would have to do. She'd never been one for fancy clothes or elaborate hairstyles, and she refused to start pretending now, even if part of her wished she could transform into someone more... suitable for an Alpha.

When she opened the door, Articus was there, looking unfairly handsome in a navy button-down and dark jeans.

The shirt stretched enticingly across his broad shoulders, and she had to force herself not to stare. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and her traitorous heart skipped a beat.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice warm and rich like honey. "You look nice."

She managed a small smile, fighting the urge to fidget under his gaze. "Thanks. You too."

They headed out to his car, a sleek black SUV that probably cost more than everything she'd ever owned put together. As they drove, Articus kept up a steady stream of conversation, pointing out landmarks and sharing little anecdotes about pack life.

She tried to engage, to show interest, but she couldn't shake the melancholy that had been dogging her for days.

"That's where I had my first shift," he said, gesturing to a clearing they passed. "I was so nervous, but my dad—the previous Alpha— just smiled and told me to trust my instincts." Articus's voice softened with nostalgia. "I'll never forget the feeling of running on four legs for the first time, the wind in my fur..."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her first shift had been a terrifying, lonely experience—no supportive family, no guidance, just pain and confusion and fear. The contrast between their experiences was just another reminder of how different their worlds were.

Eventually, they turned onto a winding road that led up into the mountains. The trees pressed close on either side, their leaves a vibrant tapestry of reds and golds. The beauty of it took her breath away, and for a moment, she forgot her worries, leaning forward to take in the view.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, almost to herself.

Articus glanced at her, a soft smile playing on his lips. "It is. But not as beautiful as—" He cut himself off, clearing his throat.

"I thought we could go to one of my favorite spots," he explained, his cheeks slightly flushed. "There's a great view of the valley from up here. And," he added with a grin that made her heart flutter, "it looks like the rain might hold off after all."

Sure enough, by the time they reached their destination—a small clearing near the edge of a cliff—the clouds had parted, allowing weak sunlight to filter through.

The air was crisp and clean, filled with the scent of damp earth and pine. Articus spread out a blanket and began unpacking a picnic basket she hadn't even noticed he'd brought.

"I wasn't sure what you'd like," he said, laying out an array of sandwiches, fruits, and pastries. "So I got a bit of everything."

The gesture was so thoughtful it made her chest ache. Why was he being so nice to her? Was it just pity? Obligation because of the circumstances that brought her here? She wanted to believe it was more, but years of disappointment and betrayal had taught her to be cautious.

They sat and ate, the view spreading out before them—rolling hills, patches of forest, and, in the distance, the glint of sunlight on water.

It was breathtaking, but she couldn't fully appreciate it. Her mind kept circling back to all the questions and doubts she'd been harboring.

"This sandwich is delicious," she said, trying to break the silence that had fallen between them. "Did you make it?"

Articus chuckled, the sound warm and rich. "I wish I could take credit, but no. There's a little deli in town that makes the best sandwiches. I'll have to take you there sometime."

The casual way he talked about future plans sent a thrill through her, quickly followed by a wave of anxiety. Did he really mean it, or was he just being polite?

"Wren?" Articus's voice broke through her thoughts, concern evident in his tone. "Is everything okay? You seem... I don't know, distant today."

She stared down at her half-eaten sandwich, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm fine," she muttered, hating how unconvincing she sounded even to her own ears.

"Wren." His tone was gentle but firm, reminding her of his authority as an Alpha without being overbearing. "Please. If I've done something to upset you—"

"You haven't," she interrupted, then sighed. "It's not... it's not you. It's me. I just..." She trailed off, unsure how to put her jumbled thoughts into words.

How could she explain that she was terrified of the feelings growing inside her, of the way he made her want things she'd never allowed herself to want before?

Articus was quiet for a moment, and she could feel the weight of his gaze on her. Then, hesitantly, he reached out and placed his hand over hers. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and it took all her willpower not to gasp.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," he said softly. "I want to help if I can. You're part of a pack now, Wren. You don't have to face your troubles alone anymore."

His words, so sincere and full of warmth, broke something open inside her. Before she could stop herself, the question that had been haunting her for days came tumbling out. "Do you... I mean, am I... do you not find me attractive?"

Fuck.

As soon as the words left her lips, she wanted to take them back. She sounded pathetic, needy. This wasn't her. She'd never cared what anyone thought of her before.

So why did Articus's opinion matter so much? She tried to pull her hand away, to retreat into herself, but Articus tightened his grip, keeping her anchored to him.

Articus looked stunned, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "What? Wren, of course, I—why would you think that?"

He didn’t answer.

She pulled her hand away, finally breaking free of his grasp, and wrapped her arms around herself. It was a defensive posture, one she'd adopted countless times in her life as a rogue.

"It's just... you kissed me that night when I was upset, and I understand that I was vulnerable then. But then you pulled away in the market when I was not vulnerable. And you've been so careful not to touch me since then. I thought maybe you regretted it, or..."

"Oh, Wren." Articus's voice was so full of emotion that it made her look up. The expression on his face—a mixture of concern, regret, and something else she couldn't quite name—took her breath away. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way."

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she'd come to recognize as a sign of nervousness. It was oddly comforting to see that even the confident Alpha could be unsure sometimes.

"The truth is, I find you incredibly attractive. Too attractive, maybe. That's why I've been trying to keep some distance."

She blinked, confused. His words didn't make sense. If he found her attractive, why push her away? "I don't understand," she admitted, hating how small her voice sounded.

Articus sighed, his broad shoulders slumping slightly. "When I kissed you that night, you were vulnerable, like you said. I felt like I'd taken advantage of the situation.

“And then in the market, I was afraid of moving too fast, of pressuring you when you're in a difficult situation. I wanted to give you space, to let you adjust to everything without complicating things further."

He paused, his eyes searching her face. "You've been through so much, Wren. You're still adjusting to pack life, to having a place to belong. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you had to... be with me... just because I'm the Alpha. I wanted any relationship between us to develop naturally, without the pressure of pack dynamics."

His words slowly sank in, and she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. All this time, she'd been convinced he was rejecting her when, really, he was trying to protect her.

To give her a choice. It was something she'd rarely been afforded in her life, and the realization made her throat tight with emotion.

"I'm such an idiot," she groaned, burying her face in her hands. She could feel the heat of a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Hey, no." Articus gently pried her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him. His touch was gentle but firm, grounding her and sending tingles down her arm. "You're not an idiot. This is all... complicated. We didn't exactly meet under normal circumstances."

She let out a small laugh at that. "That's an understatement." After all, how many relationships started with one party rescuing the other from kidnappers?

Articus smiled, and her heart did that annoying flip-flop thing again. His thumb traced small circles on the back of her hand, doing things to her she hadn’t known were possible with just a touch.

"Wren," he said softly, his voice low and intense, "I need you to understand something. I care about you—a lot. More than I probably should, given how short a time we've known each other. But I don't want you to feel obligated, or rushed, or—"

She cut him off the only way she could think of—by leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

For a moment, Articus froze, and she worried she'd made a terrible mistake. But then, with a low groan that sent heat pooling in her belly, he pulled her closer, one hand cupping her face while the other slid around her waist.

The kiss deepened, and it was even better than she remembered. Heat spread through her body, and she found herself clutching at his shirt, trying to get closer.

Articus kissed like he did everything else—with passion, skill, and a hint of restrained power. His lips moved against hers with a perfect balance of gentleness and intensity, coaxing rather than demanding.

She felt herself melting into him, all her doubts and fears fading away in the face of this undeniable connection between them.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily. Articus rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, matching the frantic rhythm of her own.

"Wren," he murmured, his breath warm against her lips, "Are you sure about this? Because if you're not ready, or if you need more time—"

"Articus!" she interrupted, surprised by the steadiness in her voice. Her hands came up to frame his face, feeling the slight stubble under her palms. "I'm sure. I want this. I want you."

He opened his eyes, searching her face for any sign of doubt. Whatever he saw there must have convinced him because the next thing she knew, he was kissing her again, with an intensity that made her toes curl.

This kiss was different—deeper, hungrier. It spoke of desire long restrained, of a connection that went beyond the physical.

They lost track of time, trading kisses and soft touches as the sun began to set behind the mountains. Articus's hands roamed her back, tracing the curve of her spine while she explored the solid planes of his chest.

Every touch, every kiss, felt like coming home—like she'd finally found where she belonged.

Eventually, Articus pulled back, his eyes dark with desire. "We should head back," he said, his voice rough in a way that sent shivers down her spine. "Before it gets too dark to drive safely."

She nodded, suddenly shy in the face of the intensity between them. "Okay."

They packed up the remains of their picnic in comfortable silence, stealing glances and fleeting touches. As they walked back to the car, Articus took her hand, lacing their fingers together. The simple gesture filled her with warmth, and she marveled at how natural it felt.

The drive back to Articus's house—their house?—was charged with anticipation. They stole glances at each other, trading small smiles and fleeting touches. By the time they pulled into the driveway, her heart was racing, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through her.

Articus turned off the engine but made no move to get out of the car. Instead, he turned to face her, his expression serious. "Wren," he said softly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "before we go any further, I need you to know something."

She tensed, worried about what he might say. Had he changed his mind? Did he regret what happened at the picnic? "What is it?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "This—us—it's not just physical attraction for me. I know we haven't known each other long, but I... I'm falling for you, Wren. Hard. And if we do this, I need you to understand that I'm all in. No holding back."

His words stunned her. Part of her wanted to run, to protect herself from the vulnerability of caring so deeply for someone else. She'd been hurt before, betrayed by those she thought she could trust.

But a larger part, the part that had been slowly awakening since she came here, wanted to embrace this chance at happiness.

"I'm scared," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands trembled slightly, and Articus took them in his, steadying her. "I've never felt like this before. But... I'm falling for you, too, Articus. And I want to see where this goes."

The smile that spread across his face was radiant like the sun breaking through clouds. He leaned in, kissing her softly. "Then let's go inside," he murmured against her lips. "And see where the night takes us."

As the door to Articus's house closed behind them, the air between Wren and Articus thickened with unspoken tension. Their earlier conversation lingered, the promise of something more hanging between them like a delicate thread waiting to be pulled.

Articus reached out, his hand gently brushing Wren's cheek as he searched her eyes for any sign of hesitation.

When he found none, his thumb grazed her lower lip, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. The heat in his gaze mirrored the desire building within her, a pull she could no longer ignore.

With a soft sigh, Wren stepped closer, the warmth of his body a comfort and a thrill all at once. Articus's hand slipped to the back of her neck, guiding her closer until their lips met in a kiss that was both tender and filled with the weight of all that had been unsaid between them.

Their breaths mingled as the kiss deepened, a slow exploration that spoke of longing and restrained passion. Wren's hands found their way to Articus's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers. The world outside faded, leaving only the two of them wrapped in the warmth of each other.

Wren kissed Articus again, this one bolder, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as she pressed herself against him. The need to be closer, to feel him fully, overwhelmed her, and he responded in kind, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her tight against him.

Slowly, Articus guided her toward the couch, their movements unhurried, savoring every touch, every sigh. They sank down together, the softness of the cushions beneath them contrasting with the growing intensity of their embrace.

Articus's hands roamed her back, exploring the curve of her spine, while Wren's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

We’re in the living room!

Wren was thankful that Edward and the other staff had retired for the weekend so no one would hear them. The room filled with their quiet sounds, the soft rustle of clothing, and the gentle hum of their mingled breaths.

Articus's lips found the sensitive skin of her neck, trailing kisses that made her pulse quicken while his hands mapped the contours of her body, memorizing the feel of her beneath his touch.

Wren's head fell back, a soft moan escaping her as Articus's lips found the hollow of her throat. The sensation of his teeth lightly grazing her skin sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she arched against him, her hands gripping his shoulders.

"Articus," she breathed, her voice filled with a mix of need and uncertainty.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching hers once more. "I want you," he whispered, his voice raw, "but only if you're ready."

Wren met his gaze, seeing the same vulnerability and desire mirrored in his eyes. "I am," she whispered, her voice steady with conviction. "I want you too."

Articus's hands slid beneath the hem of Wren's shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on her bare skin. She shivered at his touch, her own hands working to unbutton his shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against hers.

As clothing was shed, they took moments to appreciate each other, eyes roaming over newly exposed skin. Wren looked down and…

Oh wow!

Articus pressed reverent kisses along Wren's collarbone, down to the swell of her breasts. She arched into his touch, her fingers threading through his hair.

Their movements became more fluid, bodies intertwining as they explored each other with tender curiosity. Wren gasped as Articus's fingers found sensitive spots, her body responding to his touch in ways she never imagined.

She returned the favor, delighting in the way his breath hitched when she traced the contours of his muscles, the way his eyes darkened with desire at her touch.

Articus gently laid Wren back on the couch, positioning himself above her. He paused, drinking in the sight of her beneath him, her hair fanned out on the cushions, her eyes bright with anticipation. "You're beautiful," he murmured.

Wren’s breath caught, a flutter of nervous anticipation tightening in her chest. Articus moved slowly, allowing her time to adjust, his gaze never leaving hers. He kissed her again, this time deeper, more urgent, as he began to push into her.

The initial stretch was foreign, a mix of discomfort and strange pressure, but he paused as soon as he sensed her tensing.

“Breathe, Wren,” he whispered against her lips, his voice a soothing balm as he peppered her face with gentle kisses.

Wren focused on his touch, on the way his fingers laced with hers, grounding her in the moment. Gradually, she felt her body relax, the discomfort giving way to something more pleasurable as he began to move again. Slowly, he filled her, inch by inch, until she took him fully. The sensation was overwhelming, intense, and intimate in a way she’d never known.

Articus watched her closely, his eyes dark with concern and desire. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice thick with restraint as he held himself still, waiting for her to give him a sign.

“Yes,” she breathed, her grip tightening around his shoulders. “You can move.”

He did, pulling back slightly before easing forward again, keeping his movements slow and careful—the friction built gradually, a delicious ache that grew with every thrust. Soon, the initial awkwardness melted away, and their bodies found a rhythm together.

Each movement sent tingles through her limbs, the sensations becoming more intense as they moved in sync. Wren clung to him, her nails digging into his back as pleasure began to build, coiling low in her belly.

She hadn’t expected it to feel like this—so consuming, so full of raw sensation. Articus’s breath grew ragged above her, his control slipping as his pace quickened, driven by the mounting need in both of them.

A soft cry escaped her lips as he shifted slightly, hitting a spot deep inside her that sent a sharp wave of pleasure coursing through her.

“Articus…” Her voice trembled, half moan, half plea.

He groaned in response, dipping his head to nip at her shoulder, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her shiver. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. His hand slid down between them, fingers expertly finding her clit, rubbing slow circles that matched the rhythm of his thrusts.

The added sensation was her undoing. The pressure inside her built rapidly, her body straining toward release, teetering on the edge of something vast and overwhelming. “I can’t—” she gasped, clinging to him as her vision blurred.

“Yes, you can,” he murmured against her ear. “Let go, Wren.”

His words sent her spiraling. The tension snapped, and she was thrown into a wave of pleasure that crashed over her in powerful surges. She cried out his name, arching against him, lost in the storm of sensation that left her trembling and breathless.

Articus followed moments later, his body shuddering as he found his release, a low growl vibrating through his chest as he buried himself deep inside her. He held her tight as he came, as if afraid to let go, his face pressed into the crook of her neck.

For a long time, they stayed tangled together, chests heaving as they came down from the high. Articus finally lifted his head, his gaze soft and tender as he studied her flushed face. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing away the strands of hair sticking to her damp skin.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern, still holding her close.

Wren nodded, though she could feel the burn of embarrassment creeping into her cheeks as the reality of what just happened settled in. “I’m fine… just a little overwhelmed,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Articus smiled softly, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “It’s okay. You were amazing.”

She bit her lip, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “So were you. I’m glad my first time was with you.”

Articus shifted to lie beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her against him. Wren nestled into the crook of his arm, resting her head against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear. A contented silence fell over them, the only sound the faint rustle of the blanket as he covered them both.

As the minutes passed, a chill began to creep into the air. Articus reached down, grabbing a throw blanket from the end of the couch and draping it over their naked forms. The soft fabric against her skin made Wren feel cozy and protected.

"What happens now?" Wren asked softly, voicing the question that had been lingering in her mind.

Articus was quiet for a moment, his hand stroking her hair as he contemplated. "Whatever we want," he finally said.

Wren smiled, letting herself relax into his warmth. At that moment, wrapped in his arms, she felt safe, cherished, and more connected to him than she ever imagined possible. The world outside could wait a little longer.

For now, this was enough.