Daddy’s Mail Order Mate (Twilight Meadows Wolves #3)

Chapter 5 - Gwen

There’s a knock at the door— my door, at least for the next two weeks.

“Come in.”

I don’t look, merely working my way through my luggage case to get some of my toiletries out. I’m not planning on fully unpacking. After all, I needed to be ready to go at a moment’s notice if it came down to it.

But even without looking, my neck prickles at the sound of him stepping into the room. That haunting ache pulses in my chest; I’m probably going to have to put up with that this whole time. Seluna truly was an A-grade bitch for making mate bonds work like this. Isn’t getting rejected enough. Why do I need salt to be ground into the wound?

The thought makes me open one of the little travel bags a bit too aggressively that I think I almost break the zipper.

“Hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Gonna make dinner soon.”

I hum faintly in distant comprehension. My appetite will win over my anxiety at some point, but my stomach felt too knotted up to even think about putting anything in it.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Fine with pork loin roast, gravy, broccoli, and roasted potatoes?”

Thorn had always been quiet. And now when he breaks that silence, his voice seems to always rumble in like thunder on the horizon. In spite of myself, I feel my knees go a little weak. After everything that happened and how long it’s been, it’s cruel and miraculous that I still feel ambushed by these sorts of feelings.

I never thought I’d even have the ghost of this sort of sensation ever again. And just from him tersely rattling off tonight’s menu.

“... That’s fine,” I manage to reply in a stoic tone.

He grunts.

I keep unpacking.

… He doesn’t leave.

The room he’s put me in is cozy enough, but with him looming in the doorway like that, I can’t help but feel like it’s suddenly quite cramped.

If he’s going to loiter, I might as well say something.

“Didn’t figure you were the type to cook.”

“Have to be. And I don’t mind doing it. Nutrition is important for performance.”

“And you do plenty of that from the look of things,” I deadpan thoughtlessly.

I straighten up a bit and give the pale blue wall across from me a confused stare. That was definitely not the sort of thing I thought I’d be saying if I somehow got to see him again. What has gotten into me?

He huffs, and I can’t help but glance at him out of the corner of my eyes just in time to see him cross his perfectly sculpted arms across his chest.

“Occupational requirement.”

“You work for the council now, right?”

Thorn grunts in assent.

A muscle-bound agent of the council means he is doing much more than pushing paperwork and showing up for meetings. The office-ready outfit definitely seems like a smokescreen for what he must be capable of. But I suppose council agents are more like the wolf FBI or Interpol, if I had to make some sort of human parallel.

At least one of us has gotten what they want.

“Congrats.”

“What’ve you been doing? Work-wise.”

I shrug one shoulder and pace over to the window to try and crack it open. It’d clearly been a little bit since he’d had someone in the guest room.

And all of a sudden he’s right behind me. My heart leaps up into my throat and all of a sudden I can’t even breathe.

“This window’s a bit broken. Have to force it at the right angle. Been meaning to fix it, but…”

Whatever reasons he might have drag off into a low grumble. And with him standing inches away behind me, I can feel the heat radiating off his body and the waft of his scent starting to settle in around me.

My blood betrays me in several ways. First off, I feel my cheeks begin to burn. And then my heart starts running hot at a breakneck speed. But worst of all is the way it seems to sear away at my nerves and make all of my organs feel too small and too tight in my body. A dizziness presses in between my eyes, and deep in my mind, I feel the violent mourning of my wolf and the broken mate bond rise higher and higher.

I stare at the two veiny hands that brace on the window and watch silently as he slides the pane up with a grinding whine.

“There,” he mutters behind me.

I shiver. And not because of the breeze coming in.

“... Thanks,” I mumble. “It’s like the one you had back in your room, I guess.”

In my mind’s eye, I’m fourteen again.

We’re sat on his bed, knees gently brushing together. One of his hands runs down my neck.

“You’re too warm,” Thorn whispers. “Let me get the window.”

“I’m fine. I’ll get chilly if you do anyways.”

He ignores me and reaches past me, bracing at the wood.

“That thing still broken?”

“My parents think it’s completely broken shut now, since they don’t know how to get it open. But that just means they don’t think I can sneak out.”

I laugh under my breath and reach to stroke affectionately at his side to beckon him back into me.

“Or that I can sneak in.”

“... I guess so,” he replies, whiplashing me back from the memory.

“Did they ever find out?”

There’s an amused gust of nasal breath from him that stirs the top of my hair. My skin tingles from my scalp to my shoulders from that sensation.

“No. I’d bet it’s still broken.”

I chuckle, just a bit.

“You haven’t been back to check? I heard your sister’s the Luna there now. Congrats are in order for her, too.”

“Your brother tell you?”

I hum affirmatively.

He’s quiet for a few moments; that was something that apparently hadn’t changed either. Thorn was always measured and almost glacially patient about speaking. It had been a comfort to me when we were younger, since I could relax from the constant chatter and need to fill the air I’d gotten used to from most people. But with everything still so unresolved between us, I can’t feel entirely at ease in the delay. There’s still so much room for the other shoe to drop here.

“Is he going to be a problem?”

That makes me laugh.

“Not for you.”

Thorn makes a low sound, somewhere between a laugh and a growl. I’m even more grateful that he can’t see my face right now.

“... So,” I say with as much calm as I can muster, “You going to keep me trapped at the window, or are you going to go make dinner?”

He hastens back a few steps. But I still don’t turn, and instead lean down to try and get some of the cool evening air on my cheeks by crossing my arms on the windowsill.

“... Yeah. Dinner,” Thorn answers a bit thickly.

It takes another moment for him to actually leave.

Only when the door shuts after him do I finally let out the big shaking breath I’d been holding back and clutch at my chest.

This might not have been a smart idea after all, if I’m going to be this conflicted around him. He’d rejected me and our mate bond all those years ago, and I have no reason to believe that would ever change. So all these reawakened feelings would do is put me in harm’s way.

But I…

I can’t help but want to stay. Just for two weeks. I can figure out my next move, and maybe finally get some closure.

***

Day two’s been going… Surprisingly well.

It took me ages to get to sleep, and I’d woken up rather abruptly to the sound of the baby at four in the morning. Never did I think I’d be wandering downstairs to find Thorn quietly pacing through the kitchen bottle-feeding a baby, but life really seems determined to throw me constant curveballs these days.

And then after some passing practical conversation and a very early breakfast, we’ve both just been minding our own business for the most part. I still tend to fall on a sliding scale of discomfort to agony around him thanks to the rejected bond, but the lingering looks and strange longing that comes over me somehow manages to counterbalance it enough that I don’t mind sharing the same room as him.

He really does seem to be a dedicated father. His whole day seems to be consumed with tending to his baby and fitting in whatever he can for work and taking care of the house between.

So that’s how I find myself doing the baby’s laundry at three in the afternoon. Thorn had initially made a bit of a fuss about me actually doing chores. I managed to shut that down by reminding him that when this whole arrangement was being made, we agreed that I’d be helping out with childcare and domestic upkeep as part of the terms. And I’m a woman of my word.

I shove the onesies into the dryer a bit too firmly.

“Unlike some people,” I grouse into the lint catcher.

I’m broken out of my spiteful reverie by the abrupt chime of the doorbell.

It better not be Lucas. But knowing him, he’d be practically knocking it off its hinges to get to punch something while he’s here.

I make my way towards the front just in time to see Thorn’s back and the door swinging open.

“Hiiiii!”

Past his frame I see traces of a woman who has to be a grown-up Paige and a man who I can only assume was her mate.

“Shit,” Thorn blurts out.

“Language! You’re holding your little one! His poor delicate ears—”

“If you’re worried about his delicate ears, you shouldn’t shout,” the Portsmill Alpha laughs out. Which earns him a sharp elbow to the ribs, but he just laughs more.

“Rude. Now, where’s your lovely lady? I can’t wait to meet her!”

“I-...”

Paige just bulls her way past him with a gift bag in one hand, grinning ear to ear.

I fully step out into the hallway, even though my heart is racing in my ears.

“Guess you didn’t tell her.”

“Tell me wh—”

Paige stops dead in her tracks and stares at me in a wash of clear shock.

“... Gwen? I-is that you?”

I drape my arms out in an apathetic movement, not even managing a shrug. This isn’t going to go well. Paige was so young when it all happened. I know for a fact this is going to be messier than I’d like.

A quick glance past her to Thorn’s stoically stricken expression lets me know that he’s pretty mortified by the mess he’s put us in.

“Sunshine? What’s going on?”

I take quick stock of the Alpha with a scrutinizing look. By his demeanor, he doesn’t seem too aggressive or volatile. And the gentleness with which he speaks to his mate seems pretty genuine. But you never knew with pack leaders. They have the most skin in the game when it comes to maintaining appearances.

“U-uhm, yeah, she’s…”

Thorn finally manages to seem to remember himself and approaches everyone.

“She knew us when we were still in the Portsmill Pack. You might remember Gwen Mitchell. She’d been… We were together.”

At least he had the decency to not mention the rejected mate bond. I’d already suffered enough embarrassment when he’d denied me in the first place.

“Hello. Hope it wasn’t a difficult drive,” I state with as much politeness as I can.

“Oh my god Gwen, I never thought I’d see you again!”

Paige definitely seems to have done well for herself, with her healthy frame, easy smiles, and seemingly loving husband. She turns to him and casually drops the bag off into his free hand, as he’s apparently also carrying some sort of handled food dish in the other. He doesn’t complain though and just smiles after her as she rushes up to me for a big hug.

It definitely catches me off guard, and I’m not sure what to do with my arms for a second before I carefully pat her back.

“Yeah. Me neither.”

“And you’re—I had no idea it was you! That’s… Wow.”

And then with a sense of veritable whiplash, she releases me and storms right up to her brother without hesitation.

“And why didn’t you tell me anything!! You knew we were coming to meet your new mate today!!”

“I—... Forgot.”

“What? You never forget anything important, Thorn. How could you forget to tell me this? Or that your little sister was coming all this way to see you? You’re so mean!”

I know she doesn’t mean it, but a fresh pang twitches raw in my heart. A miserable thought curls in my mind: I’m not important. I don’t know if it’s just a statement of my own fact or a cruel calculation that I must not be important to him.

But much like Thorn, their bond seems much like it ever was, but also so different. Paige was so much more exuberant than she’d ever been as a kid, but I’d witnessed plenty of conversations that went not too far off from this when we were growing up.

Thorn’s expression cracks slightly.

“I’m sorry. Just… A lot came up.”

“Apparently! Well,” Paige recovers, turning back towards me with an almost manic glee. “We have gifts and dinner! I thought this would be an introduction, but now we can all catch up instead!”

I stare bewildered after her as she takes everything from her husband and traipses into the kitchen with a merry sway to her step.

“I remember you now. And you might remember me? I’m Liam Gates.”

My memory pairs the man in front of me to the boy who’d often been on Paige’s heels.

“Yeah. Guess you grew out of your ‘pull her pigtails’ stage with her eventually, huh?”

Liam chuckles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah. Eventually.”

Paige pops through the doorway with a sway of hair and a smile.

“Thorn, come help me heat this up, would you? I’m not done with you yet.”

For some reason, Thorn and I seem to seek each other’s eyes at the same time. It almost feels like the old intuitive tempo we shared with each other back then slid right back into place.

I give him a silent look, wry and a bit petty. He makes a grumbling sound and approaches the kitchen, but stops short near me.

“Take him?”

I blink in surprise, but extend my arms all the same. It’s the first time he’s let me hold him; honestly, the intensely protective energy he had with his son had made me think he might never let me. Rowan wiggles a little bit in the transfer, big green eyes blinking placidly up at me.

“Well hello,” I greet him softly.

And somehow, that gets him to smile. My lips twitch a bit to mirror.

“He’s a cute kid, isn’t he.”

I hum in agreement and gently cradle the baby into my shoulder.

“Yeah.”

The mother must have been beautiful.

My stomach twinges and twists, and a fresh pulse of agony moves through me.

She must have been plenty of wonderful things, if she’d been together with Thorn long enough to have his kid. He hadn’t said much about the situation over the app, and I don’t know if I was desperate to know or if I wanted to bury my head in the sand about his romantic history.

The atmosphere is pleasant enough as everything gets put together for dinner, but a constant ring of anxiety through my body keeps me on edge. A surprise dinner with an Alpha and Luna was the last thing I wanted or needed. And with the complicated history and unresolved issues, it feels like a meal in a minefield. Apparently Thorn feels much the same; I can tell from the set of his shoulders and the deepening of his tone that he’s far from relaxed as well.

I keep myself quiet with strategically paced bites of Paige’s chicken alfredo and do my best to let the three of them fill the silence. After all, despite the fact I know them all from our youth, they were all practically strangers to me at this point.

“You know, it might be Seluna at work here,” Paige suddenly remarks, smiling with such enthusiasm.

Her husband smiles fondly over at her with a curious lift of a brow.

“Where’s that coming from?”

“This whole thing. You know, Gwen and Thorn being anonymously matched! I always wondered why you two didn’t maybe get back in touch after Thorn left Portsmill. You two were such a sweet couple. And while Portsmill wasn’t the kindest place to any of us, I figured once Thorn got out into the world, you know…”

I feel sick. It takes all my willpower to not just put my fork down, and the bite of food in my mouth suddenly tastes nauseously rich. My chewing slows and I force myself to try to focus on getting it down as calmly as possible.

Everyone is quiet, and I don’t have to look to know Paige is looking around expectantly for someone to pipe up.

“... Thorn, I know you don’t have much to say most of the time,” she goes on, “But don’t you think it’s really lucky too?”

He grunts wordlessly.

Despite my efforts to do so quietly, my fork sounds deafeningly loud when I set it on my plate.

“It’s not. He was looking for a mate—not the one he already rejected.”

My gaze lifts and I stare stonily over to Paige’s increasingly unnerved expression.

“What?”

“Your brother rejected me. It wasn’t just a simple teenaged breakup. We had a true mate bond and he destroyed it. Right in front of your parents, actually.”

The color drains from her face. I might have felt bad for popping her bubble, but I was holding my grief in my hands like a knife at this point. Hearing her cheerily chatter on about my deepest wound wasn’t something I could tolerate silently any longer.

Her mouth wavers briefly, eyes darting between me and her brother.

“Um… Well, maybe,” she attempts to rally with a hopeful curl in her voice, “Maybe that’s an even bigger sign. It’s called a fated bond for a reason—”

Liam loudly clears his throat and reaches over to give his wife an affectionate squeeze on the arm.

“Sunshine, it might be best to leave it there. We came all this way to see them, and that’s not exactly the happy dinner conversation you were so excited about on the drive here. Right?”

She practically squirms in worry, but a little nod seems to settle it between them.

Of course the Alpha wouldn’t care to hear it talked about. It was so shameful , after all. Wolves were so superstitious; if it was supposed to be fate, there must be something very wrong with you if your mate didn’t want you.

He probably pities Thorn for having to deal with his trash wandering back in when he’d been hoping for a new morsel off the meat market.

Paige and her husband try their best to salvage the mood, but the rest of the dinner is stilted and agonizingly awkward. I cut myself some mercy by insisting on doing the dishes afterward. And mercifully, Thorn seems inclined himself to getting them situated off to their room for the night.

“Well,” I mumble under my breath as I get the faucet running, “This is off to a wonderful start.”