Sunlight filters through the lush green canopy as the delicate scent of orange blossoms permeates the air. A pair of newly released canaries flit from branch to branch, singing beautiful melodies as they soak up the rays.
"Hard to believe this is the same greenhouse," Mack muses, crouching down by the pond. She sprinkles food for the brightly coloured koi with a smile on her face. "It was such an overgrown weed patch."
I laugh softly at the Guardian's appraisal. To the untrained eye, it was, but I knew with a little love it would come back into a shade of its former glory.
"That's why you're the Guardian and I'm the GARDENER," I tease, turning the last pot for even growth.
"I think we've established you're both," she sasses, her green eyes shining with mischief.
"Maybe," I sigh as I flop down on the love seat. "But I think I'd like to spend some time just being a gardener or something." My hands drop to my ever-growing belly as a smile slips on my lips.
One thing's for sure, things are going to change soon with these two coming onto the scene.
Mack tosses the rest of the fish food in and brushes her hands off on the green Guardian uniform before taking a seat. "If anyone has earned some downtime, it's you," she says with a pointed look.
"Why do I think it's not that simple?" I groan.
Mack tosses her head back, letting out a sharp laugh before regaining control. "Because it's never that simple with you."
"Touché," I drawl, arching a brow.
Suddenly, the bright gold male canary flies down and lands on the coffee table in front of us. He positively glows in the sunlight as he calls over to his shy mate. Mack passes me a little brown bag that I open to see seeds and take out a pinch for them.
"Where'd they come from anyways?" I mumble, entranced by the birds. The male sings, urging her closer and picks up a seed before giving it to her.
Even bird mates like to feed each other...
"A certain old advisor," she trails off, leaning in like she's telling me some scandalous secret.
"Percival?" I gasp.
"The one and only," she confirms. "Shocked feels like an inadequate word, for his reaction when he came in and saw the result of your pruning... after his behaviour."
I can't help but cringe as memories of him yelling at me in front of the mob surface. The shear anger he unleashed left me shaken and thankful I haven't seen much of him since.
"If I had to guess, it's his way of saying sorry... He said something along the lines of a beautiful place deserves beautiful things and something about the queen liking nature?" she recites, furrowing her brows. "Something to that effect."
"They are very fitting," I agree.
Mack straightens and clears her throat, giving the doorway a pointed look. "I'm glad to see you back to normal, looks like your afternoon appointment is here."
I turn and follow her gaze, seeing Peter standing like a tree at the doorway. He looks the same as before, short chestnut hair, dark brown eyes, and a tightly cropped beard but that's where the familiarity ends.
Peter always had a stoic, grounded feel to him, like a unique mix of Jude and Xavier yet completely different. Now he feels like a mountain. He was already a big guy, but I think he's bulked up even more.
"Luna," he greets with a bow as I walk over. "Or is it Your Highness?" He furrows his brows and a frown takes hold as he considers his address.
"Just Jess," I reply, rolling my eyes. "Join me?"
Peter is only too eager to switch topics and walks over to the patio set, taking in the vegetation as he walks. "You did this?" he muses, tapping a budding orange with his fingertips.
"I had help," I reply with a laugh. "Mostly I just let the light in and nature took over."
Peter pauses and tilts his head as he narrows his gaze at me. "Is that the story you're going with? You just nudge things in the right direction and let nature take over?"
His words carry an unspoken accusation as he keeps his skeptical gaze locked on me.
Clearly, he read something else into what I intended.
I take a seat and open the tray sitting on the table, revealing an assortment of mixed fruit. My eyes instantly fall on the bright orange wedges in the center and I laugh at the irony. Peter almost looks amused as I pick up a slice and pass it to him.
"Can I just have my lecture upfront now?" he huffs, dropping down into the seat across from me.
"What lecture?" I ask, arching a brow. While I wait for his answer, I grab a strawberry and take a bite, savouring the tart, sweet flavours.
"Jess," he sighs, caving and eating his orange before grabbing another.
"Seriously, what lecture?"
"The one you called me here for," he deadpans.
"Do you need a lecture?" I counter. Suddenly, the orange slice he holds requires a lot of peeling as he avoids my question. "I missed you at the coronation and meant to invite you to dinner the following night, but I became a wolf kebab and that kind of kiboshed that..."
Peter flashes me a pointed look and shakes his head. "That's not even funny. Your mate is going to go grey in a year with you. I was there though, was a fitting ceremony, pretty and um..."
"Pretty?" I scoff.
"What do you want me to say Jess?" He sighs.
"Why do you think I want this or that? Is something wrong?" I ask, trying to get to the root of the problem.
He's always been so in control, could Lena throw him this far off-kilter?
"Everything's fine," he clips. "The territory is stable, the neighbouring packs have all signed treaties and everyone's doing fine. Pack's even growing some, a couple found mates or had family come, have some pups on the way, it's all fine."
"Say fine one more time," I groan, giving him a pointed look.
"Fuck," Peter groans, palming his forehead and gets up, shifting restlessly. "How'd you find out?!"
His accusation is laced with a strange mix of fear, annoyance, and disbelief. Coming from an Alpha it's peculiar to say the least and takes everything in me to keep from laughing.
"Christ." He sighs, giving me a skeptical look before shaking his head and shifting uneasily.
"Clearly something's bothering you," I say, hoping he'll open up on his own.
"I know you know!" he snaps, gripping the back of his chair so hard his knuckles turn white.
"I know a lot about a great many things," I reply flatly. "The inner workings of your mind is not one of them."
He purses his lips and nods. "That makes two of us... You look good though," he adds, changing the subject.
"I feel good, most days," I admit. "Flashbacks come less and less often and I'm actually looking forward to the future, whatever that might be." Subconsciously I cradle my stomach.
His gaze becomes troubled and filled once more with guilt, a look I remember too well from him. He bears all of the guilt from the war, meanwhile, his sacrifices allowed many to live, and make the best of a shitty situation.
Peter sinks back into his chair, his shoulders slumping as he gets lost in thought. I shift to the edge of my seat and take one of his hands in mine, drawing his attention to me.
"You need to stop beating yourself up about it," I whisper, holding his gaze.
"But I-"
"Need to stop," I say, shaking my head and lay my hand on his chest, over where I know his brand lies; the brand all founding members of Tainted Wolves carry for their role in the war. "You've paid your price, you're doing your penance, it's enough."
"Is it though?" he asks bitterly. "It doesn't feel like it."
"So how long do you plan to beat yourself up then?" I chide. Peter just hangs his head, refusing to answer.
"She's better off without me," he whispers to himself, so quietly that I barely hear it.
"Are you sure about that?" I ask, a warning tone in my voice that draws his attention back to me. "Have you even asked her?"
Peter ticks his jaw, speaking volumes without uttering a single word.
"Maybe I do know a bit about what's going on in that mind of yours after all," I murmur, flashing him a sympathetic smile. "I didn't ask Chris first either."
Peter's eyes go wide as the gravity of my admission registers. "You..."
"Tried to reject him for his own good," I say, cringing at the memory. "I couldn't go through with it... then Chris said something that opened my eyes."
"What'd he say?" Peter whispers, shifting to the edge of his seat.
"That I took away his choice... I had no right to decide what he did or didn't need," I whisper, still feeling guilty. "He was right. I thought he needed someone strong and fearless, not damaged like me."
"Have you met yourself?!" Peter scoffs, looking at me with wide-eyed disbelief.
I laugh at his reaction. "Lump, bumps, and all, Chris has been good for me, I've come a long way, though I've had a lot of help."
"Why do I feel like you're spinning a story on me?" He grumbles.
"When have you ever known me to lie?" I counter. "Even Silas, for as at odds as we were, said I was many things, but a liar wasn't one of them."
Peter reluctantly nods. He knows I'm right, even if he doesn't want to admit it.
"I'm not telling you what to do, just speaking from experience that the decision doesn't just affect you," I reiterate. "Unless I misunderstood?"
"Hmm?" he mumbles, taking the bait.
"Well," I start, pausing for effect. "You are an Alpha now, some might think-"
I don't even finish my sentence before he's on his feet, skin rippling as his temper soars. He locks his darkening gaze on mine in challenge, his face contorted in outrage. "You think I give a fuck what people will think?! I don't give a shit that she's an Omega, she deserves better than me!"
"If you accept her as she is, shouldn't she have the same choice?" I chide, unfazed by his temper tantrum. Instantly, his fire is doused and he regains control.
"I doubt she even wants to see me..." The pain in his eyes makes my stomach twist uncomfortably.
The man has sacrificed so much, he's owed his own happily ever after. Lena could be that for him.
"Don't be so sure," I chirp, earning a raised brow. As if on cue, the greenhouse door creaks open and Lena sticks her head in, locking eyes with me before slipping in and pushing the door shut behind her.
Peter takes in a sharp breath and grips his armrests so tightly they squeak under the pressure. His eyes flicker between medium and dark brown, warning that his wolf is at the surface. Lena has stopped just inside the door and waits, picking imaginary lint off of her floral dress.
Looking at them, I can't tell which one is more nervous, but Lena's raw vulnerability gnaws at me. She's put herself back together from when I saw her at lunch the other day, ready to put her best foot forward. I haul myself off of the seat and hold a hand out for her, urging her over.
Peter stays frozen, staring holes into the fruit platter as she takes trembling steps towards us. Her hands fidget nonstop, first tucking her brown hair behind her ears then straightening her dress. The only signs of life from him is his rapidly rising and falling chest as he practically hyperventilates.
"Lena," I say, giving her a reassuring smile. "It's my pleasure to introduce my dear friend Peter. Peter, the incredibly talented Lena, newly-appointed head chef."
"Hi," she squeaks out, looking up through her dark lashes at him. Peter's mouth opens but no sound comes out as he gazes at her like the world ceases to exist around them. I kick his foot and he snaps out of it.
"Hi," he replies, awestruck. "I'm Peter."
Lena snorts out a small laugh and drops her gaze as her cheeks take on a rosy hue.
"But you already knew that," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm really bad at this..."
"Have you eaten?" I ask, ending the awkward silence. Lena makes a move to sit and Peter moves like lightning, sliding the chair in for her before giving her a plate and napkin.
"Thank you," she replies bashfully.
I smile looking from Peter to Lena, seeing the same look on their faces. Realizing that I barely register, I take my cue and step away.
"Actually, I've got to go see Chris," I mumble, excusing myself as I inch towards the door. Neither person acknowledges me so I slip out without a word, to let them get acquainted without interruptions.
'You busy?' I link, hoping not to interrupt him.
'Never too busy for you,' he links back, making me smile. 'I'm in my office.'
'Be there soon.'
The walk from the greenhouse to the office takes no time at all. Several people nod in respect as I pass them and I can't help but notice the mix of Guardians, palace guards and Kismet warriors stationed throughout the palace.
I knock on his office door even though it's open a bit before walking in. Chris is at his desk with Derek leaning against the wall beside him while Mack and Nell sit talking over on the sofa.
"Is everything okay?" I ask, taking in their serious features. Even the air feels heavy.
Chris frowns slightly and holds out a hand for me. "Come in, close the door behind you."
I do as I'm told and feel my heart begin to race. From their troubled expressions and the gravity hanging in the air, something's wrong...
"What is it?" I ask, my stomach twisting uncomfortably.
"Baby, we need to talk..."