Jolene
Lancelot left for his room to shower while I went to mine. His room was on the second floor while mine in the seventh floor. I ran up the stairs, not feeling like waiting for the elevator. If I got into it, I would undoubtedly meet someone I know and have to start friendly conversation. All the Alphas and Betas were still here waiting for the meeting that Lancelot and Aiden had ruined. It was rescheduled for tomorrow at 2:00 PM.
My heart rate was increasing – not because of the physical activity, but because of the thoughts about my mate. Where do we even begin? There are so many things we need to talk about, but we obviously cannot talk about that in a dining room full of nosy werewolves. My foot slipped and I almost fall. I gripped the handrail and steadied myself. Gosh, no more accidents, please. I pushed my thoughts about Lancelot and all that drama to the back of my mind. If I keep worrying, I will die in some stupid and ridiculous accident.
How many floors are there left? I looked at the floor number by the door. Fourth floor. Just three more floors. In moments like this, I would rather be in one of the smaller packs, where the pack houses are two or three floors. Large packs like the Mountain Oasis Pack, the Silver Fang Pack and the Blood River Pack have pack houses so large that they were more like hotels. Finally, the seventh floor. I opened the door.
I dashed through the hall and got into my room. I looked around – Large sash windows in front of me, a king-sized bed to my right, a desktop with a comfortable office chair by the window, and a large sofa to my left. Everything was white with fuchsia accents. Gosh, this room is big. Yet, I like my room in the Blood River Pack better. Council members are required to stay in different packs every few months and we could mind link almost every werewolf except for rogues. It is as if we belonged to every pack but to none of them simultaneously. It was this way so we were as impartial as possible.
My bags were already in the room. I chose some clothes:
Long black pants.
A plain peach shirt.
A navy blue fitted blazer.
The most comfortable high heels I have.
I stared at the clothes on the bed, fighting the urge to put them away and wear a hoodie and leggings. No, Jolene. Anthony is so efficient. Even if you are not working you must follow the council member’s dress code – even if it is annoying.
I walked into the bathroom and removed my clothes, starting with my scarf. The scar across my neck got my attention as I walked by the mirror. I traced it with my fingers. So, ugly. If it hadn’t been made by such a powerful wolf, it would have healed, but now I have this permanent reminder of that night. It honestly looks like part of a Halloween costume. Before leaving with Anthony I had never bothered check myself in the mirror, so I hadn’t noticed how bad it looked. Ignorance is a bliss.
After taking the shower and getting dressed, I opened the bag with my choker, scarf, bandana and neckerchief collections. I chose a gold choker necklace and smiled remembering the day Anthony and Kevin gave me all these things. They are so sweet.
I looked at myself in the mirror while I brushed my hair. As my dad says: “De ahí no das para más.” (You cannot do better than this). I rolled my eyes and giggled. Sweet, I know.
I left my room and took the stairs. Thankfully the dining room is in the eight floor. When I got there, Lancelot was by the door already, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. His head snapped to my side and he gave me a charming smile before walking toward me. He wore jeans, a fitted shirt with folded long sleeves, a tie and a grey waistcoat. The wounds in his face had already healed. My breath hitched. How can someone be so dazzling?
He walked up to me. “Jolene, you look beautiful as always. May I?” He extended his hand.
I tilted my head to the side. What is he doing now? He moved his hand and nodded with expectant eyes. I reluctantly gave him my hand.
He smiled and leaned down to place a lingering kiss on the back of my hand. My heart fluttered in my chest. I am not sure if my poor heart can deal with this.
“Let’s go eat, my precious mate.” He turned around, keeping my hand in his. We laced our fingers together.