Chapter 6

6

THE FUTURE IN-LAWS

Octavia

The sun streams through the window, casting a warm glow on the soft sheets tangled around me. I blink, momentarily disoriented as the events of last night flood my memory. The marking, the raw need that brought Wyatt and me closer than I ever thought possible. He’s still asleep beside me, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, a peaceful look on his face that makes my heart swell.

The smell of something sweet wafts through the air, pulling me from the cocoon of warmth. Curiosity piques, and I slip out of bed, careful not to disturb him. My heart skips as I catch sight of a single purple rose resting on the bedside table, its velvety petals inviting and rich in color. Next to it, a small plate holds chocolate croissants, warm and flaky, their rich aroma mixing delightfully with the rose’s fragrance.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Wyatt’s deep voice rumbles from behind me, drawing my attention. I turn to find him propped up on one elbow, his skin glowing in the morning light, tousled hair falling over his forehead. A smile spreads across his face, and my cheeks flush. “I snuck down to the kitchen to grab breakfast about an hour ago. Thought you might like something sweet to start the day.”

I can’t help but grin at him, the warmth of his presence enveloping me. “You didn’t have to do all this,” I say, my voice still a little raspy from sleep.

Wyatt chuckles, those deep green eyes sparkling with mischief. “I wanted to. Besides, these croissants remind me of how sweet you taste.” The teasing lilt in his voice sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

We eat, enjoying the quiet moment together and Wyatt surprises me with another request. “How about a shower? We could start the day off together, just like last night.”

A wave of nerves washes over me, even after the sensual night that bound us. I nod, trying to play it cool, but I can feel my cheeks burning. “Uh, sure. That sounds great baby.”

The shower is a cascade of warmth and an odd security. We wash away the remnants of sleep, sharing soft touches and lingering glances. I try to focus on the water cascading down my body, but my mind drifts to the mark on my neck, the bond we’ve sealed. Wyatt’s presence is a constant, his hands brushing against my skin as he reaches for the shampoo, the intimacy of it all both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.

After we clean up, I step out, feeling refreshed yet anxious. As I rummage through his closet for something to wear, I can feel Wyatt’s gaze on me, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. I settle on a deep maroon and black plaid shirt of his, layering it over my cream V-neck sweater, paired with my favorite black ripped jeans. Something about wearing his clothes makes my heart race.

Wyatt walks in, still shirtless, and my breath catches. “You look gorgeous, babe,” he says, his voice low and filled with admiration. “It’s hot seeing you in my clothes.”

I laugh softly, trying to mask my shyness. “Well, you don’t look too bad yourself.” My gaze drifts to the tattoos that adorn his body, dark ink against sun-kissed skin. “What do your tattoos mean?” I ask as I trail my fingers over the lines of ink.

He shifts slightly, the muscles in his chest flexing as he speaks. “The crescent moon on my shoulder? It seems to be the perfect frame for your marking bite. The star constellations represent my parents’ birthdays and the day I became alpha. And this wolf,” he gestures to the fierce creature inked over his left pec, “is what my wolf looks like.”

I revel in the intimacy of the moment, feeling the strength of his presence and the softness he shows only to me. “You’re kind of beautiful in this rugged way, you know that?” I murmur, lost in the details of him.

Wyatt’s eyes soften, a hint of vulnerability surfacing. “Only for you,” he replies, and I feel a warmth spread through my chest.

“Are you ready to meet my parents?” he asks, breaking the spell between us. A flutter of nerves hits me, but I push it aside, focusing on the confidence I know I have with him by my side. I nod, putting on a brave face. “Yeah, I can do this.”

As we step into the kitchen, I suddenly feel a rush of warmth and chaos. Wyatt’s mother, Jeanette, bursts in just as we cross the threshold, her excitement palpable. She moves towards me with arms wide open, engulfing me in a hug that feels both overwhelming and welcoming.

“Oh, Octavia! I’m so happy for you two!” she exclaims, pulling back to look at me, her eyes sparkling with joy. “I can’t believe we only have six days to plan the Luna Ceremony. It’s going to be so special!”

Luna Ceremony. The words resonate with me, filling me with a mix of excitement and trepidation. It’s a celebration of our bond, a ritual that would cement my place as Wyatt’s fated mate and future Luna of the Waterton Pack. But as Jeanette begins outlining details, discussing decorations and food options, a gnawing feeling settles in my stomach—a sense that something isn’t right.

I force a smile, trying to shake off the unease. Wyatt’s hand finds mine, squeezing it gently, grounding me in the moment. “It’s going to be amazing, Mom,” he says, his voice steady. “We’ll make sure everything is perfect for my girl.”

As the planning unfolds, I can’t help but feel the weight of the impending day. The laughter and chatter blend into a background hum, but my mind races with shadows of doubt. What if something goes wrong? What if the bond we’ve forged comes under threat? I shake my head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts. I do this. Self sabotaging when things are going great. I need to see the bright side for once. This is our moment — a celebration of love and family.

Yet, as I help Jeanette organize things out of her gigantic three ring binder, I can’t shake the feeling that a storm is brewing just beyond the horizon, and I have to be prepared for whatever it might bring.