My brows lifted, but Eli shrugged. “Alphas welcome the pack through those doors, but it’s still our home too. The public is allowed in only a few rooms.
“And, as we’ve been dealing with the aftermath of your transformation, it’s been easier to be in the office.” He tugged me forward. “I’ll show you around the place.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll wander through it tomorrow.”
He blinked at me. “Are you sure?”
“It’s my home too now, isn’t it?”
His smile appeared, and it was like being hit straight in the solar plexus.
Sweet Kali Sara, he packed a punch with that smile.
I gulped as he whispered, “Of course. Every inch of this place belongs to you now too.”
“Whether you’d want the molding old pile is another matter entirely,” Ethan said drolly, earning himself a glare from Eli.
“We got the mold under control last year, Ethan.”
“We’d know.” Austin elbowed his twin in the side. “We did most of the work.”
“Most of it? All of it.” Ethan rolled his eyes.
“Are you contractors too?” I asked, confused.
“No. We do everything that nobody else will do.”
“Not a lie,” Eli admitted wryly.
“Then why don’t people like you?” I frowned. “That was one of the biggest vibes I picked up on in there.”
Eli tipped his head down to me. “You got a vibe?”
His eagerness was cute. “I’ve been getting them for a while,” I disclosed. “Pretty much since that first day. It’s like I can read a room. I’ve always been good at reading people, their auras, you know?”
“Auras?” Ethan inquired, his brows high and his dubiousness evident.
“Not a believer? When you’re proof that there are weird things in the world that can’t be explained?” I replied softly.
“That’s you, Ethan,” Austin said cheerfully. “One-hundred-percent weird.”
“Thanks.”
My lips twitched. “I didn’t mean it that way, and you know it.”
Ethan’s smile was in his eyes as he murmured, “I know what you meant.”
My cheeks burned. “Anyway, why don’t they like you?”
Austin’s nose crinkled. “That answer needs to be given when we’re all seated.”
Kali Sara, that bad?
Eli guided us down the hall, and my feet sank into the rich, royal blue carpet that offset the cream walls to perfection. Every now and then, there was a console table that was topped with a vase of flowers or a cluster of photo frames that depicted Eli and his parents at random parts of their lives. I liked seeing those pictures. I’d already studied them earlier on in the day.
Since shifting yesterday, I’d done precious little, other than order some clothes, have something to eat, and talk with my mates, but even though they told me stuff, it wasn’t sinking in. Not because I was a dumbass, but because they weren’t telling me what I needed to know.
Which was weird.
How could they be giving me information without it being what I needed to know?
I decided then and there to just pin them down. Ask the questions, get some answers. Piece stuff together.
I’d spent a week in hiding, enjoying being pain free, while also feeling reassured that, in my other, newer form, I was untouchable. It let me get to know them, let me learn them from the inside out with no expectations…
Maybe the lack of passion was my fault.
I’d spent more time as a stinky wolf than as a human, and even in my skin, I’d been stinkier and then sleepy.
Sexy.
Not.
Wincing a little, even though I knew I didn’t stink now, and that I looked quite nice in my clothes—a rich, magenta wrap-around dress that covered me from chest to calf while giving a nice show of cleavage and a pair of stacked wedges that were a shade of gold—I assured myself that I wasn’t letting them down. In the council room, I hadn’t either.
Sure, I was only a carny with a sordid past, while Eli was a rich man, but Ethan and Austin appeared regular. Although, what was regular in this world was probably completely different than mine.
All along the corridor, there were fabulous paintings, all original pieces, no prints, but aside from the photo frames, it felt like a museum. Something that was confirmed when Eli led me into a room that had a roaring fire in the hearth.
Since I’d turned back to this shape, I hadn’t been cold. Once. So I wasn’t sure why the fire was necessary when there wasn’t much of a chill out, but it sure was pretty. Even if this room was like a museum too.
The sofa was high backed, with gold molding around the back and arms. There was ornate oriental stitching that depicted a dragon surging from the water if I was looking at it right, and though it was a three-seater, it was small. Crazy small.
On either side of the sofa, at an angle, there were matching armchairs, but these had wings and they were an azure blue with white and gold stitching, unlike the cream and red sofa. There were accent tables on either side of the sofa, with large lamps on them that flooded the seats with light, and the coffee table, right in front of the seating area, was gold and spindly with a plain marble top.
Opposite, the fire was surrounded by more marble, and the mantelpiece held a carriage clock. The fire was bracketed by console tables that were armed with large vases filled with dry flowers. And behind those vases were huge mirrors, more gilt and molding.
A chandelier hung overhead, crystals suspended and flickering in the firelight, giving it a kind of disco vibe.
Well, circa 1795.
I shook my head at the sight. “This is where you come for comfort?”
Eli shrugged. “My parents were formal.”
Mine weren’t.
Neither was I.
I pulled away from him, turned on my heel, and stared at everything with, I couldn’t deny, horror.
It was pretty, don’t get me wrong. But it sure as hell wasn’t a home.
Uncomfortable, immediately, in this room, and wishing I’d asked to sit in the office, I perched on the edge of the sofa.
It was the kind of room that only invited you to perch. You couldn’t sit back, couldn’t slouch.
AKA, my idea of hell.
Eli cleared his throat. “Would you prefer the council room?”
At least in there, the sofas were comfortable…
I frowned around me, then muttered, “No.”
The council room was for work. This was a conversation that was about us.
And there was an us.
It boggled my mind, but that was the way of it.
Eight days ago, I hadn’t known these men. Eight days ago, I’d been living in a trailer, and I’d been making do with my shitty job while my father hunted me down for besmirching the family honor, while I tried to handle the agony that came from a chronic disease.
Eight days ago, I couldn’t turn into an animal, and I hadn’t known that my fate was going to change.
Was it weird to think that someone’s random attack, something that might have killed me, might be the best thing that had ever happened to me?
I felt bad feeling that way, thinking that way, but it seemed to me to be the truth.
With me having taken a seat, my gentlemen mates decided they could too. Ethan and Austin moved to the armchairs, and Eli sat on the other end of the sofa. He didn’t perch, he slipped an arm along the back of it, propped one ankle over his other knee, and sank back.