Chapter 16 - Articus

Articus woke to the soft sound of rain pattering against the window. For a moment, he lay still, savoring the warmth of Wren's body curled against his side.

The events of the previous night played through his mind, bringing a smile to his face. He turned his head slightly, drinking in the sight of her peaceful expression as she slept.

He'd been with women before, but nothing compared to what he'd experienced with Wren. It wasn't just the physical pleasure—although that had been incredible.

There was an emotional connection, a sense of rightness that he'd never felt before. The wolf inside him practically purred with contentment.

Careful not to disturb her, Articus slipped out of bed. He padded quietly to the kitchen, intent on surprising Wren with breakfast in bed. As he worked, whisking eggs and brewing coffee, he found himself humming softly.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this... happy.

The sound of footsteps made him look up. Wren stood in the doorway, wearing one of his t-shirts that hung almost to her knees. Her hair was tousled from sleep, and she blinked at him owlishly, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Good morning," Articus said, his voice warm. "I was going to bring you breakfast in bed or breakfast on the couch."

Wren's smile widened as she padded over to him. "This is nice too," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest.

Articus enfolded her in his embrace, breathing in her scent. They stood like that for a long moment, simply enjoying each other's presence. Finally, Articus pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Hungry?"

They ate at the kitchen island, talking softly about nothing in particular. Articus found himself captivated by the way Wren's eyes crinkled when she laughed, the graceful movement of her hands as she gestured. Every little detail seemed precious.

As they cleared the dishes, Articus broached the subject that had been on his mind. "I was thinking," he began, trying to keep his tone casual, "maybe we could go out tonight? There's a nice restaurant in town I think you'd like."

Wren's eyes lit up. "I'd love that," she said, then hesitated. "But... I don't really have anything to wear to a nice restaurant."

Articus grinned. "Well, I think we can fix that. How about we go shopping this afternoon?"

And so, their first official date was set.

The shopping trip turned out to be an adventure in itself. Articus, used to the efficiency of having his clothes tailored or ordered online, found himself bemused by the process of browsing through racks of dresses. Wren, on the other hand, approached each store with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

"I've never had so many choices before," she admitted as they entered yet another boutique. "It's a little overwhelming."

Articus squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Take your time. We'll find something perfect."

In the end, they settled on a deep green dress that brought out the flecks of gold in Wren's eyes. When she emerged from the dressing room, Articus felt his breath catch in his throat. She looked stunning.

"Well?" Wren asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice as she smoothed down the fabric. "What do you think?"

Articus swallowed hard, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms right there in the store. "You look beautiful," he said simply, his voice rougher than he intended.

A blush crept up Wren's cheeks, and she ducked her head, pleased. "Thank you," she murmured.

As they left the store, Articus couldn't help but notice the admiring glances Wren received. A possessive growl threatened to escape him, but he tamped it down. Wren wasn't a possession to be guarded, he reminded himself. She was her own person, strong and capable.

Yet she was his as well.

That evening, as they sat across from each other in the softly lit restaurant, Articus found himself captivated anew. Wren's eyes sparkled as she took in the elegant decor, the pristine white tablecloths, the crystal glasses catching the light.

"I've never been anywhere like this before," she confessed, her voice low as if sharing a secret.

Articus reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "I'm glad I get to share it with you," he said softly.

As they ate, they talked about everything and nothing. Articus told her about his childhood, growing up as the Alpha's son. "It wasn't all bad," he said, twirling pasta around his fork. "But there was always this awareness that one day, I'd be responsible for the entire pack."

Wren nodded, her expression thoughtful. "That must have been hard."

Articus smiled ruefully. "It was. But it also taught me a lot about duty, about putting others first." He paused, meeting her eyes. "It's part of why I was so careful with you at first. I didn't want you to feel pressured because of who I am."

Wren's gaze softened. She squeezed his hand gently. "I'm glad you were. It gave me time to see the real you, not just the Alpha."

Articus felt a surge of emotion at her words but held back from expressing it fully. Instead, he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

The week that followed was a whirlwind of activity. Articus found himself constantly amazed by Wren—her strength, her resilience, the way she approached each new experience with a mix of caution and wonder.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, balancing Articus's duties as Alpha with their desire to spend time together.

Wren began helping out around the pack, finding her place bit by bit. Articus loved watching her confidence grow, seeing her interact with pack members, and slowly building relationships.

Everything was going smoothly; even the elders seemed to have softened on their pleas for an heir.

The old bags probably think she will provide one.

One sunny afternoon, Articus decided to introduce Wren to one of his favorite pastimes. He led her to a secluded part of the forest, a small bag slung over his shoulder.

"Where are we going?" Wren asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

Articus grinned, squeezing her hand. "You'll see."

They emerged into a small clearing beside a burbling stream. Articus set down the bag and pulled out a set of carved wooden chess pieces and a folding board.

"I didn't know you played chess," Wren said, surprise coloring her tone.

Articus shrugged, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. "It's just a hobby. Something I do to relax." He hesitated, then asked, "Would you like me to teach you?"

Wren's eyes widened, but she nodded. "I'd like that."

As Articus explained the rules and basic strategies, they talked. He learned about Wren's childhood, the good memories she had of her parents before their deaths. In turn, he shared more stories of growing up as the Alpha's son, the pressure and expectations that came with it.

"Chess was actually something my father taught me," Articus said, demonstrating how the knight moved. "He said it was good practice for thinking strategically, for considering all the possible outcomes of a decision."

Wren nodded, her brow furrowed in concentration as she contemplated her next move. "I can see that. It's not just about what's happening now, but what might happen several moves down the line."

"Exactly," Articus said, a note of pride in his voice. "You're catching on quick."

As the game progressed, their conversation deepened. Wren spoke about her life as a rogue, the constant struggle for survival, and the loneliness of never truly belonging anywhere.

"It wasn't all bad," she said, echoing Articus's earlier words. "There's a kind of freedom in not being tied down. But..." She trailed off, her eyes distant.

"But?" Articus prompted gently.

Wren sighed. "But it's exhausting, always being on guard, never knowing who you can trust. I missed having a home, a family."

Articus's heart ached for her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, to promise her that she'd never be alone again. But he held back, unsure if such declarations would be welcome.

Instead, he reached across the board, covering her hand with his. "You have a home now," he said softly. "If you want it."

Wren's eyes met his, a mix of hope and fear swirling in their depths. She didn't respond verbally, but she turned her hand over, lacing her fingers with his.

They sat like that for a long moment, the chess game forgotten, both of them grappling with the intensity of their emotions.

As the days passed, Articus found himself falling more deeply for Wren. They had their disagreements, of course—Wren's independent streak sometimes clashed with Articus's protective instincts, and there were moments when their different backgrounds led to misunderstandings. But they always worked through it, growing closer with each challenge.

One evening, after a particularly tense pack meeting where some of the older members had voiced concerns about integrating more rogues into the pack, Articus found Wren in their bedroom, staring out the window with a troubled expression.

"Hey," he said softly, coming up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Wren leaned back against him, sighing. "I don't know. Hearing them talk like that... it brought back a lot of old feelings."

Articus wrapped his arms around her waist, offering silent comfort. "They'll come around. Change takes time, but you're already winning people over."

Wren turned in his arms, looking up at him with a mix of vulnerability and determination in her eyes. "I want to help," she said. "With integrating rogues, I mean. I know what it's like being on the outside. Maybe I could... I don't know, be a liaison or something?"

Pride surged through Articus. This was the woman he was falling for—strong, compassionate, always looking for ways to make things better. "I think that's a brilliant idea," he said, smiling down at her. "We can talk to the council about it tomorrow."

Wren's face lit up, and she stretched up on her toes to kiss him. What started as a gentle press of lips quickly deepened, months of familiarity allowing them to fall into a passionate rhythm.

Articus lifted Wren, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the bed, their lips never parting. He lowered her onto the soft sheets, his body covering hers as his hands roamed her curves. Wren's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as a soft moan escaped her.

Articus broke the kiss, trailing his lips along her jaw and down her neck. Wren arched into him, her breath coming in short gasps. Her hands slid under his shirt, tracing the hard planes of his back.

"Wren," Articus murmured against her skin, his voice husky with desire. "Are you sure?"

She pulled back, meeting his gaze. Her eyes, dark with passion, held a certainty that made his heart race. "I've never been more sure of anything," she whispered.

Their lips met again, slower this time, savoring every sensation. Clothes were shed between heated kisses and reverent caresses; each garment discarded revealed more of their bare skin to explore. Articus's hands trembled slightly as he removed Wren's last piece of clothing, his eyes roaming her body with awe and adoration.

Wren's cheeks flushed under his intense gaze, but she didn't shy away. Instead, she pulled him close, relishing the feeling of skin against skin. Their bodies moved together in a dance as old as time, finding a rhythm that left them both breathless.

Articus worshipped every inch of her with his hands and lips, drawing soft sighs and whimpers from Wren. She responded in kind, her touches both tender and urgent as passion built between them.

When they finally joined, it was with a shared gasp of pleasure. She let out a soft cry as he buried his length deep inside her wetness. A contented sigh escaped from Articus, the warmth and wetness of Wren waking up something very primitive inside him.

They moved as one, lost in the sensations and emotions coursing through them. His slow, deep thrusts were accompanied by the sweet, inaudible nothings he whispered into her ear.

Wren clung to Articus, her nails lightly scraping his back as waves of pleasure washed over her. Articus buried his face in her neck, overwhelmed by the intensity of their connection.

Their movements grew more urgent, driving them higher and higher. Wren's back arched off the bed as she cried out Articus's name, her release triggering his own. They clung to each other as they rode out the waves of ecstasy, their bodies trembling in the aftermath.

As their breathing slowly returned to normal, Articus rolled to his side, gathering Wren in his arms. She nestled against his chest, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back.

"Fuck," Wren whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “That was… fuck! ”

Articus tightened his arms around her, chuckling softly. "Such eloquence," he teased, pressing another kiss to her hair.

Wren playfully swatted his chest, a smile curving her lips. "You've rendered me speechless. Take the compliment."

"Gladly," Articus murmured, his tone growing serious. "You're incredible, Wren. I've never felt anything like this before."

She lifted her head, meeting his gaze. The vulnerability in his eyes made her heart swell. "Neither have I," she admitted softly. "It's a little terrifying, if I'm being honest."

Articus nodded, understanding etched on his features. "I know. But we're in this together, right?"

"Together," Wren agreed, sealing the promise with a tender kiss.

Afterward, they lay side by side, a small gap between them. Articus stared at the ceiling, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

The physical connection they'd shared was undeniable, but he found himself grappling with the intensity of his feelings. It was too soon, too complicated.

Beside him, Wren shifted, her breath evening out as she drifted toward sleep. Articus turned his head slightly, studying her profile in the dim light.

She looked peaceful, but he couldn't help wondering what was going on behind that calm exterior. Did she feel the same tumult of emotions? The same fear of falling too fast, too hard?

As the minutes ticked by, Articus felt the weight of his responsibilities settling back onto his shoulders. Tomorrow, there would be pack matters to attend to, decisions to make. The brief respite they'd found in each other's arms couldn't change the reality of their situation.

He thought about the council meeting, about Wren's desire to help integrate rogues into the pack. It was a noble idea, but he knew it would face opposition. Change never came easily, especially in a world as steeped in tradition as theirs.

With a quiet sigh, Articus closed his eyes. Sleep eluded him, his mind too full of unanswered questions and unspoken worries. As the night wore on, he found himself no closer to untangling the complex web of emotions that Wren had stirred in him.

The rain that had been threatening all evening finally began to fall, its soft patter against the window a fitting backdrop to his restless thoughts. In the darkness, Articus listened to Wren's steady breathing, finding a strange comfort in its rhythm even as uncertainty gnawed at him.

There was a lot he was uncertain about. But for now, in this quiet moment, he allowed himself to simply be—not the Alpha, not the leader, just a man lying beside the woman who had unexpectedly captured his heart.