Chapter 13 Leave Ten Minutes After Me
Emilia’s POV
The kiss was deliberate. Bold. Nothing like the shy little response I’d given him the night before.
When I pulled back, his eyes had that golden glow again. Just for a second. Then it was gone.
"You started this last night," I said softly, my lips still inches from his. "And your parents saw. They’re going to want progress, Sebastian. They’re going to expect us to act like a real mated pair. So unless you feel like explaining why their son suddenly can’t stand to touch his own wife, you’d better get used to it."
His grip tightened. His breathing had gone uneven.
"Don’t," he growled, low and dangerous, "push me."
But I could see it now. The way his pupils blew wide. The way his hands shook, just slightly, against my skin. His body answering me even as the rest of him fought it.
And lower, barely hidden by his pants, the proof of it. He wanted me, and there was no arguing with that.
He caught where my eyes had gone.
His face flushed. Anger, or maybe embarrassment. He let go of me fast and turned away, angling his body from mine.
"Get out," he bit out.
I bit back a grin and headed for the door. But I glanced over my shoulder before I left.
"Breakfast’s downstairs. Whenever you’re... ready."
Then I slipped out and shut the door behind me.
Out in the hall, I let the smirk loose. I’d gotten what I came for. Whatever this pull was, he felt it too.
Sebastian could deny it all he wanted. His body didn’t lie.
---
The table was loaded with food. Golden toast glistening with butter, eggs scrambled soft, crisp bacon on fine china, fresh fruit cut into little shapes. Steam rose from the pot, carrying the scent of expensive Earl Grey.
It was beautiful. Warm. Inviting.
And it made my chest ache so sharply I almost gasped.
My mind dragged me back to the Frostridge Pack, to all those mornings I’d wake early, dress quietly, and slip out the door before anyone else stirred.
Because sitting at their table hurt worse than going hungry. I’d watch Henry read his paper while Dorothy served Linda the best of everything, their easy laughter never once making room for me.
I was the ghost in that house. The stain they pretended not to see.
No one ever asked me to join them. And I refused to beg for scraps of affection, stubborn, prideful fool that I was.
It wasn’t until years later, doubled over in a hospital bed with gastritis so bad the doctor threatened to admit me, that it sank in. Dignity doesn’t fill an empty stomach. Pride doesn’t ease the gnaw of hunger.
No one was going to feel sorry for me. No one ever had.
So I’d learned to swallow all of it. The pain, the loneliness, the desperate ache to belong. Locked away where no one could see.
"Emilia?"
Mila’s gentle voice pulled me back. She was watching me, her brow creased with concern. "Why aren’t you eating? Are you feeling alright?"
"I’m fine." The lie came out smooth. I grabbed the nearest fork and made myself take a bite.
The food was delicious. Warm, perfectly seasoned, melting on my tongue.
It tasted like everything I’d never had. Family dinners and childhood mornings and a mother who cared whether you ate.
My throat tightened.
Mila turned to her son, her face brightening. "You’ll go with Emilia to visit her family today. I’ve already had the butler prepare gifts to bring over."
I nearly choked on my toast.
"I don’t have time." Sebastian’s refusal was immediate, cold.
Titus’s fork clattered against his plate. "Being busy is no excuse to ignore basic courtesy!"
"Dad, this is my seventh marriage." Sebastian’s voice dripped with mockery. "We don’t need to follow every tradition like it’s the first time, do we? If she wants to see her family, she can go herself. What’s the big deal?"
The temperature in the room dropped.
"You." Titus shot to his feet, his face flushing. "This is Emilia’s first marriage! How dare you treat her this way!"
Oh, Goddess. Panic flared in my chest. The last thing I needed was a rift between Sebastian and his father on my very first morning here.
"Dad, it’s fine." I jumped in, keeping my voice light and pleasant. "My family won’t mind. Really. Besides, I have to get to work anyway."
That stopped the argument cold.
Mila blinked at me, surprised. "Work? What do you do, dear?"
My stomach dropped.
In my rush to defuse things, I’d forgotten the rules. The expectations. Wealthy pack families had very particular ideas about what their Luna should and shouldn’t do. Working outside the pack house might not fly at all.
I should have gotten our story straight with Sebastian first.
But there was no taking it back now. All I could do was tell the truth and hope.
"I’m an executive assistant at a company," I said quietly.
Mila’s face lit with genuine delight. "An assistant! Oh, how wonderful. That explains why you’re so thoughtful and organized."
Relief crashed through me so hard I felt dizzy. "It’s nothing special, really."
"Which company?" Mila asked warmly. "Sebastian can drive you after breakfast."
"That’s too much trouble," Sebastian cut in, his face carved from ice. "I’d have to go out of my way."
Mila rounded on him. "How would you know? She hasn’t even said where it is yet!"
"Doesn’t matter," Sebastian said, jaw set. "Wherever it is, it’ll be a hassle."
Before Mila could fire back, Titus set his cup down with a quiet finality.
"Then she’ll take your car," he said. It wasn’t a suggestion. His eyes moved to me, and they warmed. "The driver’s at your disposal from now on, Emilia. You’re the Luna of this pack. Getting yourself to work is the least this family can do for you."
Something in my chest pulled tight. A car and driver of my own, handed over like it was nothing. Like I’d always been owed it.
"Thank you," I said.
Sebastian’s eyes cut to me, hard, but he didn’t argue with his father.
Gratitude washed over me, warm and unexpected. They were trying so hard to take care of me. To make me feel welcome. Valued.
My purpose in marrying Sebastian...
After breakfast, I followed Sebastian out, my bag over my shoulder.
He stopped short on the front steps and turned to face me, arms crossing over his chest, his expression cold.
"Next time, leave ten minutes after me," he said flatly. "I’m not used to someone trailing around after me."
I blinked at him. "Are you upset that I’m still working? Even after marrying you?"
His laugh was sharp, humorless. "Don’t flatter yourself."
But his gaze had already dropped. To my mouth. And it lingered.
I bit back a smile and tilted my head. "See something you like? Or are you just remembering how it tasted?"
His eyes snapped back up.
He stepped closer, green eyes boring into mine. "Careful, wife. You weren’t nearly this bold with the man you spent years with. Where’d all that nerve come from?"
My stomach jolted. He knew about that. Of course he’d dug into my past. But I kept my face smooth. Nice try. He wanted me rattled. I wasn’t about to hand him the satisfaction.
He leaned in. "Whatever you did with your pathetic little life before means nothing to me. Work, quit, waste your days doing nothing. I don’t care." His hand came up, one finger grazing the ring on my hand. "But if you so much as look at another man while you’re wearing this, I will burn down everything you’ve ever loved. Are we clear?"
I smiled.
"Loud and clear." I reached up and patted his chest, light, almost fond. "Good hearing runs in the family, apparently. You should try listening as well as you threaten."
His jaw ticked. Before he could get a word out, I stepped around him and walked straight to the black car idling at the bottom of the steps.
The driver already had the back door open, waiting.
I slid in and settled against the leather.
Through the tinted glass, I caught his face.
"Get out of my car," he ordered.
"Dad gave me the right to it," I said, smiling sweetly.
I lifted two fingers off the window in a lazy little wave. "The office, please," I told the driver, and let the smile stretch wide as we pulled away, Sebastian shrinking smaller in the side mirror.